Don’t worry, this post will be not about the typical Cuba journey, the so called “the authentic Cuba”, or at least not about what most of the people see as the authentic Cuba. Instead I’ll show and write about the Cuba I have seen, in the last 3 days of our almost 3 weeks trip.
Couple of months ago, in January to be exact, we’ve travelled for the first time to Cuba.
We’ve travelled for almost 3 weeks through Cuba. It was great. Great this and great that. How great it was you can read in many other posts throughout the Internet. Just google it.
On our way back home from Trinidad we had to stay in Havana for another 3 nights before boarding the plane.
Throught the whole journey we haven’t pre-booked any accommodation, maybe wrote down some addresses to knock on. It all worked out so far, there was no sleepless night on the street or something similar. We’ve always managed to find a Casa-Particulare and a cozy bed, or a less cozy bed – let’s stay with just a bed.
As we arrived in Havana it was already late, around 10pm. It was dark. We had couple of Casa Particulare in the same neighborhood on our list. After wondering around for 2 hours through the old town and knocking on several doors, we still did not have any bed to sleep in.
One last address was on list, that’s it. The Casa was right at this beautiful Plaza Vieja.
Picture source: https://www.expedia.de/Plaza-Vieja-Havanna.d6099350.POI
Isn’t it beautiful? As authentic as it can be, right?
We entered the apartment been wowed. The place was beautiful. Big, tidy and full of antique furniture and dishes and other objects every antique dealer would get a heart attack on.
Unfortunately we could not stay. It was booked out. Of course – I already was surprised why a Casa Particulare with best reviews on Trip Adviser would have a free room, especially during the main season.
But luckily the old lady was nice enough and called a friend. A friend with Casa Particulare around the corner. Maybe 5 minutes away.
While waiting for her friend, I’ve been looking at all the shiny things there. Gold, chrome, christal glass, silver, porcelain and other great little things. 10 minutes after she made a call, a young man picked us up and took to his apartment. The lady did not lie, her friends place was right around the corner. 5 minutes by foot.
As we arrived at his apartment, we had a different reaction as from the previous one. Slightly different. The moment I entered the apartment I started to understand that most of the tourist, and I am not talking the resort tourists, instead the ones that come to Cuba to see the authentic Cuba, live in a fucking bubble. Sorry for my language. Authentic Cuba is not about vintage us-cars, or cheap lobsters, or La Floridita, or Daiquirries in the sunset, or whatever bulls**t we see on the pictures and dream of.
It was an old, very old building. A staircase without banisters and broken windows, that you could easily fall through by just making a wrong step. The apartment itself had two bed rooms and a couch-sized living room. No kitchen so far. One of the two rooms was rented out to us. Who ever else lived in the apartment, they all had to stay in another room.
Our room had a bed, a small fridge filled with water and some beers, a night stand, a self-made bathroom with a little shower in it. And a window - no glass, just wooden window blinds.
Let’s be honest, first night was not nice. Based on the view from our balcony, we had a reason not to be very comfortable.
Next morning it was clear. We are not staying here. Especially not because the room costs $30 (US Dollars, of course). We left the room to see what’s the apartment is about. There must be a kitchen or something similar, right?
As I opened our bedroom door the guy, the one picked us up, was standing before us, smiling.
“Good morning. You breakfast, si? Sinco Dollars a persona.” – he asked.
To see him in such a good mood, all smiling and stuff, offering us a breakfast after bringing us here was a bit of a surprise. We smiled, but declined. We have to go – we said. After this short conversation the guy left us alone. Now we were, on our balcony enjoying the view of the most authentic Cuba i’ve experienced so far:
After taking view pictures and celebrating life, I’ve noticed some toys in the corner. Kids toys. Some kids clothing was also drying on the corner, a bit aside from the balcony, in the kitchen. Couple of minutes later we saw young woman entering the kitchen for a second. She also smiled at us and said good morning.
It must be a young family living here. Probably freshly married young couple and a small kid. I saw a very cute 3-4 years old girl leaving the “other bed room”, spotting us and immediately running back in.
It was a strange moment. I was ashamed. Ashamed of judging to fast without know the whole story. Ashamed of being on the hunt for the authentic Cuba experience and freak out the minute I’ve experienced how some people live, right around the corner from the shiny-bright-and-colorful plaza. Ashamed of not to understand that all the shiny vintage cars, nice buildings, apartments full of antique furniture, lobsters and giant shrimps, fu**ing Daiquiris for $8 is what we want and dream to see. Yes, even if you don't stay in a resort and try to back pack around the country it is still not the reality. Its an illusion perfectly camouflaged with an authentic story.
As we saw the guy a minute later pulling his kid back into the bed room, we asked him if its still not to late for a breakfast. We are very hungry and would be happy to order a breakfast.
Guys, you should have seen his face. He enlightened immediately, got even a bigger smile on his face and was within seconds in the kitchen doing some fried eggs. While singing some Spanish song – yes, singing.
While staying in his kitchen and enjoying our breakfast we started to see more and more from this family life. One side of the kitchen was full with some construction material. The walls seemed to be not finished yet, but on the way there. Our bath room was small, but very nicely done. Some of the walls were painted in nice pastel colors. Stuff like that. That family tried with all the power they had to make the best out of it. Maybe I am also wrong. I don’t know their reasons and their goals. What I know is that I saw a young family trying.
We diced to leave our stuff in the room and come back after a walk and then finally decide if we leave or stay.
2 hours later we were back and asked the guy if we could stay our last 2 nights in Havana in his apartment, but with a discount. $25 instead of $30. Think whatever you want, but money is money and the room is not a $30 room, but $20 – maybe $25.
His wife came in and he told her that we would like to stay. They had a conversation in a very fast Spanish, which we could not understand at all. A moment later:
- You told the old lady too? – he asked us.
- What old lady?
- Old lady, our friend.
- No, we said only for 1 night.
Back to conversation in Spanish with his wife. We didn’t understand a word. 30 second later, smile on his face, smile on her face. Smile on our face – just for the company.
We were a bit confused what happened now and asked him why the old lady matters so much. The story is simple - the old lady takes commission, since she handed us to him. After paying his taxes to the government and the commission to the old lady, they make only $5 per night from a $30 room.
WHAT???
Yes, $5 per night. But since the old lady would only get commission for 1 night and not 3, they would make much more per night than usual. So they were OK with our discount request.
"Why are you not getting your own clients thru AirBnB or Booking.com or such? This is how the old lady does it. She is on both platforms." - we asked the couple in broken Spanish. They smiled and said they don't have family aside Cuba, so they have no chance.
I felt bad. F**k, I felt really bad for being such a cheap-arse and asking for a discount.
(Sounds confusing, right? Well they told us that the most money they make is through the old lady. They also explained what the whole AirBnB, Booking and Internet in general is about. Its completely different story. Maybe i'll make a post abut it one day)
The last 2 nights and days were easy. We slept, we ate (also the breakfast), we visited Havana. We also emptied the little fridge in our room and payed for each drink according to their price list. At the end we he also ordered cab to the airport and he probably made some commission on his end.
Point of the story is, in the last two days in Cuba I learned how spoiled and hypocritical I am. Maybe we all are. The authenticity we are so keen on to experience is just a illusion and most probably not the same what it really is. Wow, what a smart-arse I am.
I wish I could go back to Cuba to visit this young family and apologize for being such a judgmental d*ck. Also ask their names.