Havana – First Impressions

I arrived in Havana International Airport just in time for a huge thunderstorm. The rain was slamming down, it was noisy and hot. Everyone was tired, grumpy and unhelpful. Not a good way to start a trip!

You can tell a lot about a country by the people you meet in the immigration process. In Singapore, you barely see anyone in the airport, because they arrive, get their bags and leave in a really short period of time. Not in Cuba. This is obviously the land of bureaucracy and details if the queue is anything to go by.

There was a massive amount of people waiting to get processed. When I arrived, they all look tired, cranky and were craning their necks to see what was happening at the front of the line. It was organised into about twenty separate booths, with twenty separate lines, but none of them seemed to be moving. What a pain.

I eventually got to the front of the line and I worked out why it was taking so long. The nice lady had to fill out a lot of forms, take my photo with a digital camera and do a lot of stamping. She was very friendly and nice about it, but it did take a long time.

I then came across some Cuban oddness. As I was walking to the luggage carousel, some ladies at a desk summoned me over. They were wearing nurses outfits, which was a bit freaky. Having learnt my lessons in Mexico, I said loudly “Hello”, just to make sure that there was no way I was going to try to speak in Spanglish to them. They got the point. They said “Sorry Sir, not you” and I was on my way. I obviously looked Cuban! I hate to think what they had in mind for me if I was a local! As I would find out later, there’s a big difference between how locals and tourists are treated in the country.

Next, I jumped in a cab. Hang on. There’s another guy in my taxi. Next, a guy opens my door and demands a tip. What for? Oh – he was the guy who dragged my bag the three metres from the curb side to the boot of the car. He wanted a dollar tip. In a country where the average income is about $4 a month, this was a bit much. What a sneaky bastard!

I eventually worked out the guy in the taxi was being dropped off five minutes down the road, but the rapidity in which I was sucked into the cab was a bit annoying. Whilst it wasn’t a scam, it was just annoying. Give me an orderly queue any day.

Driving into the city, I was amazed at the number of socialist banners painted on the walls. They were mostly about Fidel and Che, but there were a lot of them. I thought they were kind of cool. What wasn’t cool though, was the severe poverty I saw everywhere and the extremely dodgy looking cars being driven around.

Due to the US embargoes, it’s impossible to import anything from the US. Combine this with the poverty of the people and you get a shortage of car imports. As a result, it’s in everyone’s interest to keep the old jalopies running. Driving around, it’s like a vintage car enthusiasts dream. Most of them look like they’re about to fall into tiny pieces, but they’re everywhere.

After checking in, I went for a bit of a walk. Straight out of the hotel, I was harassed by about ten different people. It was the usual “Hello Sir” and “Where are you from”. The usual calling card for people looking to bother tourists. I eventually shook them off, but it wasn’t fun.

I then tried to find a shop to buy some water and a drink. I realised there wouldn’t be a 7-eleven or McDonalds, but I wasn’t ready for the poverty around. The only place I could find to get a drink was in a shop that looked like a Stalinist bunker. It was manned by about five people, all grey and dour looking. They were securely behind glass, bars and other security. They were guarding their cold water with their lives. Peeking over there counter, there didn’t seem to be much stock either. They were obviously rationing out what they had.

This was all a bit much. Combined with the oppressive heat and the hassling people, I headed back to my hotel for a lie down. This place was pretty intense and was definitely not going to be an easy holiday.