Comrades in Competition...

Seeing tourists stepping off a bus into a Cuban city somewhat resembles a Hollywood movie premiere.

As a set of old white Westerners dragging their wives and weary eyes are suddenly plunged into unwanted celebrity, mobbed by jineteros offering everything under the sun in exchange for but a pittance of these aliens’ perceived wealth. Jineteros are those natives on the streets so intent upon illicitly offering their accommodation, restaurants and, in fact, anything to travellers. These are your average adults trying to make a living with what little entrepreneurial capacity they have. These are people learning how to make money …

Of course, things are different in Cuba. They have long been a communist country, built upon the foundations of Fidel and Che’s victory against all odds, for the equality and prosperity of the nation’s people in defiance of the US’s imperialism. Us against them. Patria o muerte. Indeed, the bottom line of communism is that of unity; whereas capitalism leads to competition – wouldn’t you agree? But this is where the lines blur, as walking along Cuban streets will poke and pester you into seeing how Cubans are now fumbling among themselves between communism and capitalism. And they are leaning from the left to the latter ...

Cuba is still bearing a heavy hangover from the 1990s’ período especial with the collapse of their Soviet support system and their fallen sugar and coffee industries compounded by countless embargoes that have devastated the country’s trading. Shops’ shelves were left bare, restaurants were rationed supplies, resources and technology were doomed to the 20^th century and employment plummeted as factories folded by the dozens. And for those who have clung on their jobs, their work ethic is markedly oppressed by their pitifully low incomes and the sheer lack of any prospects in pursuing a promotion or career. At least the guerrillas’ aims have been realised in ensuring a level playing field for all, except that strategic errors have left their comrades deep in the trenches, desperately fighting their way out.

And the only feasible way of getting out is by their unintentional harassment of tourists. Cuba opened its doors to the world at the turn of the millennium – effectively dangling the carrot of capitalism to its people, who duly began biting the hands off these tourists. Households tidied up a room to become hospitable casas particulares, and worthy state-owned restaurants became paladares in feeding foreigners un-rationed food. This initial taste sparked a nationwide hunger for Western wealth, as comrades morphed into jineteros, creating a peculiar paradox of unity and competition between themselves ...

It becomes a tribal turf war, with mini-cartels of friends and family competing against one another, armed with sneaky sales talk and the odd outrageous lie in chasing your pesos, advising you that “your booked stay at Señora García’s won’t happen as she recently passed away, and her business now comes to our casa”. It’s the same when asking for directions around town, with the jineteros spotting an opportunity to intercept your custom for their own. However, this quickly breeds a deep sense of distrust, as the tourist becomes weary of the hustlers’ tireless talk and bleached white lies.

And this is all before you step into one of Havana’s nightclubs, where you have never felt so irresistible a man as when a flock of beautiful cubanas greet your entrance by pulling your arms in different directions for a cheeky dance. That’s until you click that they’re prostitutes, pretty women with a price, seeking a ‘financial gift’ in return for their services. And you also discover this isn’t a brothel. It’s just that sex tourism has boomed in Havana, and prostitutes make themselves seen within the bar scene, mojito in hand ready to fulfil withering old Western men’s sexual dreams. Although their clients may not be handsome, their pay certainly is, as a good week’s clientele reportedly brings in twice as many pesos as a Cuban doctor earns in a month.

And there lies the disparity – both health and sex tourism are booming in Cuba, but the money only reaches those who are at the very front line in serving the tourists. And the front line’s hopefuls are tugging at each other’s sleeves in their collective struggle to live, everyday guerrillas against Fidel’s outdated communist ideals. But with the Castros aging and the Cuban streets hustling, the nation hangs in the balance, awaiting their new revolution …