I’ve touched Cuba. I’ve smoked Cuba: Part 2

Land of Ironies…too bad you can’t export that!

I soon noticed that this nation is ironically nothing but an indirect host for the insufferable parasitoid Capitalisthia Materialismus. And man, was I getting ill. Here, a pseudo-socialist, who I learned was actually never much of a communist until he glued his lips to a once thick iron ass, has attempted to create a society so equal, yet, relatively speaking, deplorable, on physiological and safety levels, that Maslow’s pyramid, had he shaped it based on contemporary Cuba, would’ve been somewhat of a fat upright egg. A fucking egg! Can you believe the mockery?

I went to a free Calle 13 concert on el malécon, the seafront boulevard, at José Martí Anti-Imperialist Plaza, with, I would estimate, a million 200,000 other youngins. Cool, right?

“Young Habaneros, we love you so much, and are so supportive of a free world, we’re giving you free music, inviting a band based out of none other than a U.S. territory…iiin front of the U.S. Special Interest section, wheeere we’ve kind of blocked your view of the electronic billboard international ‘news’ (read: propaganda) ticker. Don’t care? Ah yes, right, right, we’ve conditioned you in an egg. Now remember, the Bucanero you’re getting smashed on was made with the collective grease of your Cuban elbows!”

This was where I got the biggest culture shock. As I tried my best to appreciate the irritating harmony of reggaeton – yeah, yeah, honorable lyrics…I didn’t, and unfortunately still don’t, understand very much Spanish – I was in awe with my surroundings. I wouldn’t have fathomed that so many designer brands actually exist, not to mention that there’s a market for their knock-offs. Who knew that attaining and showing off bling was top priority for people who can’t really even access the internet? Reflecting on this, and considering that I now recognized Ed Hardy shirts on anyone and everyone, heard beefcakes’ dogged machismo whistles, hoots, and hollers, and curvy, somewhat servile, responses, and saw more iPhones than books *ahem* exaggeration *ahem*, while toothbrushes and toothpaste were mainly sold privately in vestibules, I could draw just one logical conclusion. Well, that is after I discussed these observations with foreign friends who were studying abroad at la Universidad de la Habana.

Mostly equal in the sense that everyone receives the same level of education, the same meager salary for working aimless jobs half the week, and spending three days a week on a stoop watching shuffling feet in the heat, Cubans have not only found a way to get what they need, but also what they don’t need – and this is, unfortunately, their principal method, as in most of the developed world, of social competition. But, its prevalence is so much more obvious and distressing here. Even though there are establishments serving illegal bandwidth to and from the foreign world, there seemed to be more of an interest in the carnal. Maybe that’s why abortions are free there. But all kinds of connections to the outside do exist. Stepping into a hotel (where Cubans are technically not allowed to go freely) is like entering another world. Food that can’t be found anywhere else, international publications and television news, high-speed internet, and plain interactions with foreigners are a way for the average Cuban to connect to the rest of us. And did I mention that if, as a Cuban, you don’t have a relative that lives abroad, your close friend most likely does? These are but a few examples of how Cuba is not as isolated as we think – rather, as I thought. Yet, disappointingly, visitors bring with them commercials, rather than cultures. Fidel has, more than likely inadvertently, managed to stifle his people in such a manner, yet given them just enough to quietly continue the revolution rather than evolve it, that the only way they can survive is by being (often illicitly) innovative, an experience making you ripe and ready for capitalism…and apparently rampant materialism.

I romanticized Cuba. I was hoping for the living manifestation of the Buena Vista Social Club sound. Expecting to find a rich culture and fresh breathe of socialist air, I was being disappointed.

…to be continued.