On the Street in Havana, Music to Our Ears Via NY Transfer News * All the News That Doesn't Fit The Washington Post - May 12, 2002 http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A3901-2002May10.html Gaviota [Tourism] is a branch of Cuba's armed forces, and at $5 per tourist, by showing off our naval base to some 5,000 visitors a year, Cuba actually collects far more than it would earn if it cashed the lease check. On the Street in Havana, Music to Our Ears By Tom Miller When Jimmy Carter and his retinue arrive in Cuba on Sunday for a five-day visit, they'll see a country quite different from the one that befuddled him and his administration 25 years ago. While George W. Bush, the 10th U.S. president during Fidel Castro's reign, has done his best to freeze relations in their current unfortunate position, Americans by the planeful are traveling to Cuba, many of them legally, with Treasury Department permission. They are finding a country far from their expectations and, in some ways, surprisingly close to their hearts. In their dealings with each other, Washington is obstinate, Havana unyielding. But beyond the governments' hard-boiled and anachronistic stances, there is the "real" Cuba, in which ordinary peoples' attitudes toward and curiosity about the United States have never been more open. To see what I mean, start at the best grand hotel in Havana, the Parque Central, where the Stars and Stripes proudly hangs in front, all 50 stars of it, along with the flags of the other countries its guests hail from. On any given morning, you can find a sign in the lobby with the day's activities for some U.S. group or other -- alumni from Stanford, art curators from Chicago, museum members from New York, academics from the South. I've bumped into more friends at the Parque Central's breakfast buffet than I have at my local coffee house in Tucson. When I lived in Havana 12 years ago, if I heard English in a restaurant I would turn around to see who was speaking. Now I do the same when I hear Spanish in the city's tourist restaurants. Americans on the streets of the capital are so common these days that innocently curious Cubans and street hustlers alike show little surprise on learning where we're from; instead they're more likely to brag to Yankees about an uncle who's a success in Hialeah, Fla., or a cousin who found work in Union City, N.J. With its natural appeal, Cuba has always attracted outsiders. Cuba's first overseas visitor was said to be Christopher Columbus, who, enchanted by the island, declared it the most beautiful land he had seen, peopled by natives "gentle and always laughing." Cubans have a name for that attitude among today's foreigners who act as if they have discovered the country and gush ad nauseam about its charm. They call it the Columbus syndrome. Although the changes taking place were increasingly obvious, I was still struck that so many Cubans seemed genuinely moved by the events of Sept. 11. Just weeks after the attacks, I dined with a touring American group at El Patio, an upscale restaurant at Havana's Plaza de la Catedral where the only Cubans I've ever seen were the guests of foreigners. In the corner, a nicely turned out pianist named Oscar in his early thirties played Broadway show tunes. Suddenly, a hush fell over the room. Oscar was playing "America the Beautiful," which of course garnered great applause from us visiting Americans. Sensing the moment, Oscar then played "The Star-Spangled Banner," which prompted us to rise. I must say, in 15 years of enjoying just about every weird social and cultural contradiction Cuba has to offer, hearing our national anthem in public was about the strangest. I whispered to a nearby waiter, suggesting that he ask Oscar to play "La Bayamesa," Cuba's national anthem, next. (He did, and he did.) Later in this evening of bi-national patriotism, I asked Oscar if he played "The Star-Spangled Banner" for all visiting American groups. "No," he replied. "This is the first time I've done it. It was out of respect for what happened last month." About the same time, an American businessman of my acquaintance was traveling through Cuba on his own for two weeks. So struck was he by the warmth and kindnesses bestowed upon him wherever he went -- the Columbus syndrome, if you will -- that on his return to the states he wanted to repay Cuba in the most practical way possible. He made a substantial donation -- twice the average Cuban's annual salary of about $250 -- to a senior citizens' center in Havana, cash that bought much-needed clothing, bedding and supplies. With acts of civility such as this anonymous gift, the heartfelt playing of our anthem, there is a sense of a wall being bypassed, a wall built of intransigence and government bluster, such as the U.S. accusation last week that Cuba is developing biological weapons. While Cuban baseball with its nationalism, passion and defections is well-known here as an American cultural touchstone, I was still surprised by one recent game. On a Sunday afternoon, at a private residence in the colonial city of Trinidad, I watched the nationally televised Cuban All-Star game from Holguín, eager for the contest to begin. Pre-game activity included a base-running competition and a home run derby. Yet what struck me most was the music. As each of Cuba's best players was introduced and trotted onto the field, he was accompanied by the stadium's PA system blaring out the U.S. Marine Corps hymn. Surely this was unintentional, but still, this seemed a milestone moment in U.S.-Cuban relations. No one says so out loud, but many Cubans privately acknowledge that the economic embargo, odious as it is, has had its benefits. The tsunami of American culture that has saturated daily life in so many other Latin American countries has not yet drenched Cuba's lifestyle, and its music, art and idle conversation develop relatively free of the more beguiling qualities of our own. It is a land without Burger King, Jerry Springer and One Hour Martinizing. Still, the "inexorable reciprocity" linking the two countries, about which historian Louis A.Pérez Jr. has written, often seems top-heavy with American influence. My wife, who is Cuban, and I are godparents to a recently born Cuban girl whom we've had the good fortune to visit a few times in her eight months. "Ah, yes," a knowing Havana friend said when I told him about the little girl. "It's very fashionable these days for a Cuban baby to have American godparents." T-shirts with American flags are, despite occasional government admonitions, de rigueur. Jerseys for the Miami Marlins and the Chicago Bulls are common, but most coveted is New York Yankees' attire. On occasion, though, Cuba gets the upper hand. If former president Carter and his delegation have the chance, they should head east to Oriente, where the air, the land and even the Spanish are different. If they take the highway from Santiago de Cuba east to the city of Guantanamo, then continue a bit more past desert land with cactus and agave, they'll see a turn-off that leads into a military zone where Cuba's border brigade trains. The poorly maintained road twists and winds uphill past a rifle range and athletic fields, eventually reaching El Mirador, a lookout perch more than 1,000 feet above sea level on a hill called Malones. Frank Bosch, who works for Gaviota, a state tourist agency, greets visitors, holding a tray of drinks, and leads them to a platform topped with a trellis of vines and rope. From there you can see the U.S. naval base about two miles away. Bosch sets down his tray and adjusts the viewer on the American-made telescope and focuses on Camp X-Ray, with its Taliban and al Qaeda prisoners. Tourists pay $5 a head -- in U.S. currency -- to line up for what must be Cuba's most unusual tourist attraction. Bi-national circumstances have become so wonderfully twisted that we are now paying the Cubans for the privilege of spying on our own military. Twice this year I've been there with visiting American groups, both times feeling as if at the vortex of two of the most consequential news stories of our time, the shrinking of communism and the rise of terrorism. On neither visit did any of us actually see prisoners, but the jails and the nearby guard encampment were clearly in view. We recognized a couple of the U.S. watch towers on the base perimeter with Marine guards looking back at us through their binoculars. Far in the distance we could see the small Cuban pueblos of Caimanera andBoquerón along Guantanamo Bay, and the salt flats beyond. Finally we walked a few steps from the lookout perch to a modest restaurant and bar, likewise a Gaviota installation. More than 10 years ago, about the time El Mirador opened to the public, a Cuban colonel led me underground into a solid-looking and well-equipped bunker in a nearby mountain. There the Cuban army had a war room to plan military strategy if the need occurred, and an extraordinarily detailed relief map of the nearby naval base, down to every street corner and building. The United States sends a check for $4,085 annually to Cuba to lease the Navy land -- a figure derived from a 1903 formula based on the value of gold -- but Cuba never cashes it, for doing so would acknowledge the base's legitimacy. Back upstairs, the tourists I accompanied finished their box lunches, and we lumbered back into our air-conditioned coaches to continue traveling through Oriente. While most of the visitors at El Mirador are European, enough Americans come to make things interesting, Bosch said with a grin. His employer, Gaviota, is a branch of Cuba's armed forces, and at $5 per tourist, by showing off our naval base to some 5,000 visitors a year, Cuba actually collects far more than it would earn if it cashed the lease check. Such anecdotes can be far more telling than Cuba's political dealings. These days, a keen observer of all things Cuban would do well to wear bifocals. Tom Miller, author of "Trading with the Enemy: A Yankee Travels Through Castro's Cuba" (Basic Books), is an adjunct research associate at the Latin American Area Center of the University of Arizona. ================================================================= NY Transfer News Collective * A Service of Blythe Systems Since 1985 - Information for the Rest of Us 339 Lafayette St., New York, NY 10012 http://www.blythe.org e-mail: nyt@blythe.org ================================================================= nytact-05.14.02-02:13:01-5785