Havana -- politics and economics

You've gotta be an architecture freak to get the most out of Havana, I think. Even the mandatory government guides allocated to each tour bus spends most of every talk describing each and every building we pass, how old it is, what state of disrepair it's in, what the government are trying to do to get the money to pay for refurbishments, and which American companies owned it before it was confiscated during the Revolution. In fact, the whole of Havana looks like the result of a time storm in a cheap science fiction movie. Century-old, weather-worn colonial wrecks sit side by side with freshly painted renovations. I gather from a trusted "local source" that the government is finding it a bit of a problem. Having appropriated all the property owned by the rich capitalists and donated it to the poor people of Cuba in the middle of TwenCen, they are in something of a quandary in finding the money in the 21st to pay for upkeep and replenishment (not to mention completely fresh infrastructure). If this was socialist Europe it would be a simple case of taxing the rich or borrowing uncontrollably from the IMF or the Bundesbank. There is only so much you can leach from UNESCO claiming "world heritage site". And thereby we start to see the start of the changes in Cuba.

It's hard to describe this place without some reference to politics or political economics as it underpins everything. The State is in complete control of everything. Our hotel, although a quite modern glass structure built in partnership with international investors, is actually run by civil servants in the Ministry of Defence. As are all the tour buses. Nobody owns property. Nobody can even afford to rent property. My "trusted source" says that the population of Cuba has dropped from 13 million to 11 million because no one can afford to marry, find a home and have babies. Many have escaped to capitalist Miami (and move money back to the old country). In the meantime, tourism has just reached an unprecedented 4 million. Unfortunate, because there's no money to build new hotels and the old ones are struggling to keep up with the harsh expectancies of TripAdvisor-educated world tourism.

The local people are putting on pressure for, and starting to see, changes in the rules about ownership. Recently, it has become legal to be able to rent your own home out to tourists and set your home up as a private restaurant. The downside for these nascent entrepreneurs is a hefty tax to pay for all the state workers. But still, a lot of people are taking advantage of it. What next? Private tour companies and guides? My "trusted source" says she earns a good wage of 18 kooks a month. Consider what I was saying in an earlier post about tips; if every fellow lout gives a 1 kook tip for a good tour . . . well, you can do the maths. Apparently, Cuba has a very good health service (sound familiar?) and exports doctors to all over the Americas. Because of that doctors can earn 25 kooks a month's rising to 45 kooks if you are a treasured specialist. Going back to the original question . . . how much do we tip?

Never mind the waiters and room maids. I have discovered a new terror: the peripatetic mariachi band. Look, I'm serious here. If the going rate is a one kook coin for any form of tip then the overwhelming problem for us louts is obtaining a sufficient number of the bastards. One for the barman, one for the waiter, one for the cleaning lady in the toilets (seriously; I was turned way from one because I didn't have change), one for the waitress who serves the midday free cocktail on a Saga tour (it's always Cocktail O'Clock over here, especially if you invoke the name "Hemingway"), and so on. What the tour experts never warned us about was the omni-present mariachi band. No matter where you fancy a drink, or even a sit down -- those cobbled streets are hard on ancient bony feet -- a band will materialise right in front of you and sing ever-so cheerfully. And then, and this where they've got it off pat, present you with a copy of their new CD and ask for a donation. It doesn't matter if you haven't got the required number of kooks (and you won't because you've given every precious one to all the previous people on list) because the whole band stands there like inhumanly patient mannequins smiling expectantly. It becomes a battle of wills in the end and, of course, you lose and pay them the equivalent of a doctor's cost for heart surgery. As my "trusted source" says; "this Cuba; I love it". (I think she's being ironic because she told Linda once that a portrait on the side of a building was Osama Bin Laden, but you can never be sure.)

Economics aside, this is a lively place. Ever so complicated if you dare think about it. But lively.