By George H. Wittman on 8.19.11 @ 6:07AM
To lure a Cuban into actually telling you what he thinks requires
something akin to a blood relationship, so it's hard to know how the
average citizen feels about his country or the direction in which it's
headed. The view of the illegal taxi driver in Santiago de Cuba on the
eastern tip of the island is quite different from that of his worldly
counterpart in Havana. But one thing is consistent: No matter his
political stance or economic status, the ordinary Cuban always believes
his country is at the center of global affairs. Cuban girls are
prettier, jazz is more original, dance is more imaginative and baseball
players are better than anywhere else -- except maybe for a few
Dominican shortstops. These viewpoints ring increasingly false. It
should be clear to everyone by now that Cuba is a failing country, and
that the Cuban Revolution was a failed experiment.
About one hundred thousand Cuban Americans are said to make their way to
and from Cuba each year, though some say that figure is much higher. The
economic impact (even beyond the amounts of money brought into Cuba
clandestinely) is immense, as each traveler is now authorized by the
American government to legally bring into Cuba $3,000 in cash. This
comes in addition to the $500 quarterly allowed for U.S. residents to
send to even extended family members in Cuba. Religious organizations
can receive unlimited remittances, and those really add up.
Despite some initial disagreement, there now seems to be a consensus
around the figure of a minimum of $1.2 billion as the amount remitted
yearly from Cuban Americans to their relatives in Cuba. Of this, the
Cuban government assesses about 20 percent in various fees. If Cuban
expatriates and their now adult children had not fled to the U.S. and
elsewhere, the economy of Cuba would be in far worse shape than it is
today. That's one of the many ironies of the Cuban Revolution.
Meanwhile, one of the more tragic scenes of contemporary Cuba plays out
each day along the ramshackle streets of Cuban communities. There are
laws that control any business designed to make individual profit.
Gratuities in hard currency or convertible pesos from tourists is one of
the exceptions, as is money made by clandestine taxi operators in their
ancient and dilapidated vehicles running on stolen gasoline. So
professionals, such as teachers and lawyers, vie for part-time
employment as waiters to earn foreign currency tips.
Although the Cuban Government under Raul Castro's leadership recently
loosened the restrictions on small private businesses, the ordinary
citizen still doesn't enjoy forking over license and operating fees to
officialdom. Individuals eking out an income often revert to a certain
device that Cuban soldiers brought back from their tour in Angola during
the 1970s and 1980s.
In Africa's poorer urban environs, women set out on the ground each day
a selection of what they have acquired to sell -- from fruits and
vegetables to private possessions such as clothes and household
supplies. In Cuba this form of marketing has become known as candongas,
which is a play on words meaning "trickery." Instead of placing the
goods for sale on the ground, the Cuban peddler lines it all up on a cot
or some other homemade platform. Here private possessions of everything
from auto parts to used shirts and pants are sold -- but without
government licenses or taxation.
Paladares, the unlicensed neighborhood restaurant, is another way
ambitious entrepreneurs get around government regulations. As many
chairs as possible are jammed around a few tables. The comparatively
cheap food can range from edible to not-so edible, but that doesn't
inhibit the crush of clientele. It's a real moneymaker for the
proprietor, but these untaxed, unlicensed establishments last only about
a year at best. Nonetheless the fly-by-night system works. Many
lower-level officials eat at the paladares.
For people who know their way around or know people who know someone who
knows his way around, everything needed can be purchased in Havana.
Computers, videos, Harley Davidson sweat shirts -- they're all available
for a price. The Ministry of Interior has a vast operation aimed at
controlling this strictly illegal trade. It fails regularly -- except
when it doesn't want to. That's why there is a regular roundup of
sellers and buyers.
August 11 was Fidel's eighty-fifth birthday. One wonders what he
possibly could have celebrated -- other than still being alive. He and
Raul have been around for a long time, but as revolutions go, Cuba's is
put-putting along like the decrepit American cars that now -- more than
anything else -- are the still living symbols of 1959.
http://spectator.org/archives/2011/08/19/an-old-mans-island#
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