Category: Translator: Regina Anavy

In the year 2000, in a long, narrow cubicle of the National Capitol, the present seat of the Ministry of Science, Technology and Environment, an Internet service at 5 dollars per hour was authorized. At that time 5 dollars was a little more than half the minimum wage in Cuba. The service was agonizingly slow. Its main use was for email. If you were lucky, you could get some world news.

Sending photos was a real pain. Beginning in 2008, all Cuban citizens could log onto the Internet from Havana hotels for a fee ranging from 6 convertible pesos (CUC), about 8 dollars, to 10 CUC (12 dollars) for one hour of navigation.

The connection is still slow but better than that of the Capitol building. Now, with the arrival in February 2011 of the famous underwater cable linking Cuba with Venezuela, Ecuador and Bolivia, in a bizarre digital entente that people in the street called Alba.net, the speed of data transmission has improved qualitatively.

But it’s nothing to write home about. In an hour you can transfer photos and some small video that does not exceed 40 megabytes. Anyway, before you upload photos and videos, you must compress them on your computer at home because you run the risk of using up your hour of connection time without being able to upload the material.

That is, by paying in hard currency you can get on the information highway. That’s the good news. Let’s look at the bad. Virtually speaking, Cuba is an island split in two. Outside Havana, Cubans are not allowed to connect to the Internet in tourist facilities that have that service.

You have to show your passport. Just ask the troop of hard-working independent journalists from the central and eastern provinces about the difficulties they have in posting their stories and articles. In Santiago de Cuba, you can get into the Hotel Santiago, although at times the hotel security makes it impossible. People who live in Havana are “privileged.”

The other major problem is the high cost, which makes it practically impossible for most reporters and bloggers without an office. Not all independent reporters earn money for their writings in Cuba. And those who do receive between 25 and 100 convertible pesos per month, barely enough to let them survive.

Most connect to the Internet once a week in one of the two places provided in the United States Interests Section (USIS), next to the Havana seawall. A service that not only is offered to dissidents: intellectuals sympathetic to the regime also connect from there. Other dissidents do so in western embassies like the Netherlands, Sweden, Poland or the Czech Republic, which offer two hours a week free.

Connecting to the Internet is the biggest problem with alternative reporting in Cuba. And from what I can see, it’s going to get worse. The picture doesn’t look good.

According to reliable information, a crippled Internet service is being designed, scheduled for commercialization in late 2011. A kind of Intranet, where users can access only local sites and others that the government considers not harmful to its interests. This one would have access to international mail like Yahoo or Gmail.

There is talk that the installation of a DSL line by ETECSA would cost 150 convertible pesos (170 dollars), and the transmission rate would be more than 120 kilobytes, nearly double the current one. The amount would be paid monthly, according to the number of hours. It’s a feasibility study.

We’ll see what the leaders decide. The tide of events in north Africa keeps them on tenterhooks. The Castros recognize the mobilizing force of the Internet and the social networks. And they fear it. It would not be unrealistic to think that when the Internet – or the Intranet – is commercialized on the island, the virtual police will come later, in the style of China. The same or worse.

The other issue of concern, big concern, is an information law that the ideological Talibans have kept in the drawer. If implemented, it would be an appendix to Law 88, the gag law, the same that led to the imprisonment of 75 dissidents in the spring of 2003. It has been leaked that said law will regulate and penalize the use of the Internet. Tools like Facebook or Twitter, or any use that the Castro government does not consider appropriate, could lead to a criminal penalty. Let’s hope they won’t lower the boom.

The fears of the regime and the restrictions, in addition to restricting a handful of civil and political liberties, are dynamiting the future of a generation that also was born in Cuba under the domination of the @.

Some hotels and prices

In the Hotel Saratoga an hour costs 10 CUC (12 dollars). For two hours you pay 15 CUC, more advantageous. You have Wi-Fi for 24 hours. Three PCs offer service from 8 am to 5 pm. If you go with your laptop and a card previously purchased from the hotel, you can connect at any time.

In the Central Park Hotel one hour costs 8 CUC (10 dollars). Five hours cost 35 CU (40 dollars), which comes out to 7 CUC an hour. The connection is between 60 and 80 kilobytes.

The fastest connection is in the Melia Cohiba. The speed can reach 120 kilobytes. One hour costs 10 CUC if you use the terminal in the hotel. If you want Wi-Fi, you have to pay 12 CUC (15 dollars).

In almost all the hotels in Havana the price fluctuates between 8 and 10 CUC per hour for the Internet. The speed has improved. But not enough to upload large files or videos.

In Old Havana there are hotels where cards cost 6 CUC an hour, but the connection is very bad. They also use a software called Avila, which is rumored to be a spyware program that copies your email account or the password for your blog.

Translated by Regina Anavy

May 9 2011

After preparing a very cold tamarind juice, she sits on the sofa. “Go play, I want to talk about things a little girl shouldn’t hear,” she tells her 11-year-old daughter.

An enormous cat, old and almost blind, by instinct, with one jump makes itself comfortable on its owner’s lap. While she strokes the feline, Yolanda, 46, begins to tell her story about being a hardened whore.

“In the mid-’80’s, after quitting school after an abortion for an unwanted pregnancy, I went with a group of friends to hang out on the malecón. We used to bring a bottle of rum, and several of us decided to get dollars from the tourists.”

It was precisely in that epoch that the term “jinetero” (“jockey”, literally) was born. The first “jineteros” of Fidel Castro’s revolution were young people in search of the dollar, then prohibited by Cuban law.

“Our business was to get fulas (dollars). Later, Africans who were studying in Cuba got us a lot of stuff. Jeans, tennis shoes and shorts, that we sold on the black market. A good business. Earnings tripled, but it was risky. If the police caught you, you could spend four years behind bars.”

At that time, she was a curvy mulatta who could stop traffic. “When I walked by, all the men would turn their heads and foreigners would proposition me. I just wanted to have fun, dance and eat in restaurants forbidden to Cubans. Having hard currency was prohibited by law, the same as staying in or hanging around tourist hotels,” remembers Yolanda.

“The first time I went to bed with a gringo (foreigner) I was 21. He asked me how much it would cost for the night and I told him to give me whatever he wanted. After making love we went to the hotel shop, and the man, a Canadian tourist, bought me clothes, cosmetics and electrical appliances.”

The Canadian put two 100-dollar bills between her breasts. After that night, Yolanda was determined to make money from her well-shaped body. “I liked to fuck (screw), and besides, at the end of the day I made good money. It was worth the trouble to take up prostitution.”

In a worn book she has listed the names of all the foreigners with whom she had sexual relations. “There are more than 100 men and some 50 women. Those were the days, parties, drugs and loads of sex,” she recalls as she strokes the old cat.

Her advantage, she explains, was in hooking for herself. Never in a group. Nor did she work for any pimp. “I invested the money in buying a house and helping my mother. I was married twice. The first time to a Mexican, the second to a Belgian. But I never got used to being away from my people. I missed them a lot. From the malecón to the flirtatious comments in the streets.”

She always returned to Havana. When the men no longer turned their heads at her passing, she knew she had to hang up her shingle. And she got together with a harmless, affectionate master baker who treats her like a queen.

Of that period only memories remain. “In those times of need, given the number of women in search of money, girls of 12 and 13 years were induced to go to bed with guys who could have been their grandfathers, for 20 or 30 dollars. Previously, a high-class hooker would not fuck for less than 100 dollars.”

The cat, bored and hungry, jumps from her lap and goes off to a corner of the patio. Yolanda follows it with her eyes and sums up her existence.

“I had a good time. I went places I never could have gone if I had been a simple worker. I traveled to different countries. I tried good cocaine and shopped in expensive stores. I have three daughters, but I don’t want them to be hookers. I want them to study and be good professionals,” she says, and she gets up to prepare the family dinner. She has no regrets. “I was a party girl. And life took away the party.”
Translated by Regina Anavy

April 30 2011

Yuliesky, a high school student, doesn’t have the slightest concern about examination week. Certainly his scholarly learning is zero. Swinging nights at discotheques and hot parties are a substitute for studying.

But at zero hour, his parents give money discretely to certain teachers, and they let him blow off the exams. Either way, Yuliesky has an extensive bag of tricks to pass the exams.

“It’s true that you can’t bribe all the teachers with a 20-CUC bill (=19 dollars). So I use other tricks. I record the possible answers in an Mp3 file and copy them onto a cellphone. Another technique is that a colleague who finishes first sends me the exam answers by SMS. Only I have to be careful that the teacher doesn’t see me. And I’m an expert at that,” brags Yuliesky.

If in high school and university there are frequent, shocking cases of academic fraud, imagine what happens in night schools, where those who work or have left school try to get into 9th or 12th grade.

If you have money, you’re assured of passing all the exams. It’s easy. You pay 5 “chavitos” (4 dollars), and the teacher will pass you on the exam,” pointed out Eddy, a second-semester student at a school located in Lawton, on the outskirts of Havana.

Fraud in Cuban schools is a deep evil, almost endemic. And on a greater or lesser scale it’s been happening since 1970. The massive fraud scandal involving teachers from the René O. Reiné college-prep school in the Havana neighborhood of La Vibora still lives on in memory.

In primary and secondary schools, students don’t have to be looking for a teacher’s inattention to copy the exam from their desk-mate. “Several times a teacher would enter the classroom and whisper the answer to you,” remembers Fernando.

According to Anselmo, a professor who is now a hotel porter, “There was enormous pressure on teachers to meet the parameters dictated by the Ministry of Education. If you had many students who repeated a grade it was not seen well. Teacher quality was measured by the percent of students who passed the grade and by high scores. These were the foundations of what came later. We lived the motto of having the best education in the world. And for the sake of everyone having a high educational level, fraud was not combated. On the contrary.”

For 40 years, academic fraud has been a virus that exists throughout the island, even in the universities. “But to a lesser extent. There is more rigor and better teachers. I remember that a teacher caught me copying and said, ‘What does it solve? You will have a title, but you will be a mediocre professional all your life. It was a lesson,” remembers David, an architect.

In general, students who systematically cheat or bribe their teachers to pass exams don’t reach the university. And if they do, they drop out.

Like Rosa, who left a career in philosophy in her second year. Used to copying and paying for exams, the difficulty of a university degree was too much for her. Nor was she able to retain the new information. Now, while she waits outside the Habana Libre for a Canadian tourist who will pay her 50 dollars for sex, she regrets it.

Translated by Regina Anavy

April 2 2011

The contractor Alan Gross, 61, remains in jail. Raúl Castro’s government definitively sentenced him to 15 years. The Gross case was shrouded in mystery and uncertainty. And it brought back the Cold War era.

After 15 months in a cell and in legal limbo, the judge handed down the sentence. Something similar happens to other foreign prisoners in Cuba, like the Spanish businessman Sebastián Martínez. In Cuba, it’s “normal” to come before a court one year after the day of your detention. Or more.

Some analysts thought that the criminal penalty of the American Jew, accused of creating parallel computer networks without the regime’s authorization, would be a few years. Many even bet that he could be on a Boeing headed home.

But the Castro brothers have a large collection of tricks up their sleeve. They are unpredictable. And they usually always do just the opposite of what logic dictates. Anyway, the case of the gringo contractor can be read in different ways.

The good news for the Gross family is that there’s no need to panic. Cuban prosecutors can easily condemn you to a torrent of years, but then, from international pressure, rationality and political negotiations behind the scenes, you can return to your country a few months after being condemned.

Alan Gross is a useful piece in this new game of political chess with the United States. He always has been. The anti-Castro fighters who fought in the Bay of Pigs and the CIA’s spies were exchangeable products.

In 1961, after the 72-hour victory at the Bay of Pigs, Fidel Castro exchanged most of the captured enemy combatants for baby food and powdered mashed potatoes.

Something similar happened with certain spies of the U.S. special services. Even the mortal remains of the U-2 pilot shot down during the tense days of the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962 were a war trophy to be traded for political gain.

The Castros are more interested in imposing fear on local opponents and condemning them for many years than in outside adversaries. Yet, in the case of internal dissidence. they will haggle with Western powers if they see political gains in return.

Gross will be behind bars until a good proposal appears from the White House. The brothers are always open to listening to offers. Let’s make some.

A major political carrot would be to exchange Gross for the five spies from the 11 members of the Wasp network who were captured in 1998, considered “national heroes” by the regime. It has been a public pledge that Fidel Castro has failed to accomplish. Now time passes, and death subtly lurks around the comandante.

Gross was like an angel fallen from heaven. If Obama and Clinton have a real interest in the contractor, they could consent to exchange him for the 5 spies; this is more or less the logic of Castro I. You can also negotiate with new measures of economic flexibility for Cuba. And since the elder Castro often plays hardball, why not exchange him for their star spy, Ana Belén Montes, who infiltrated the CIA and was sentenced to 25 years?

The U.S. government, equally adept at business and political trade-offs, considers its options. The ball is in the White House’s court. It’s up to Obama to move it.

Translated by Regina Anavy

March 16 2011

The saga of espionage used by the government of Cuba against U.S. contractor Alan Gross, 61, could end in the coming days when the prosecutor announces the final penalty.

Gross’s trial, with the prosecution asking for 20 years in prison, was adjourned pending sentencing on Saturday, March 5, at the 10th of October Court of Justice, situated in Havana’s most populous municipality.

The official press released a simple statement which reported that “U.S. citizen Alan Gross acknowledged that he had brought into the country computer equipment and satellite dishes to form parallel networks, which are not authorized by the government. ”

It said that Gross was provided all the legal safeguards stated in the Cuban Constitution and that he admitted having been deceived by the company he works for, Development Alternatives, contracted by the State Department, and by the Department of State itself.

According to the report released by the Cuban state media, the contractor complained of economic losses and family hardship during his 15 months of imprisonment on the island.

In parallel with the case of the Jewish contractor, State television announced on Monday, March 7, a new chapter of denunciations of actions by the U.S. against Cuba, and that on this occasion it will stress the satellite communications, precisely what happened to Gross, and will provide “hard evidence” of Washington’s interference.

Anyway, despite the regime’s gibberish about the Gross case, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think that the penalty could be waived or greatly reduced from the 20 years requested by the prosecutor.

While the fate of a gringo, old and sick, and according to him, deceived, depends on the good will of the government of Raúl Castro, in the back room a new wave of spies is being cooked up. In addition to submitting photos and videos of the American’s activities in Cuba, they will take the opportunity to try to discredit to the utmost the opposition, independent journalists and the local blogosphere.

A threatened and even more discredited dissidence would make it nonviable as a catalyst for future popular unrest.

The real enemy of the Castros is not Gross. The American is nothing more than a good currency of exchange. It’s not bad for negotiating with the Yankees. Or as a political show. Little more.

Translated by Regina Anavy

March 8 2011

Like a soap opera, the marches and riots in Tunisia and Egypt were followed in Cuba by people committed to the future of their country, like the opposition, independent journalists and bloggers. Those citizens wishing for political and economic changes saw on TV the biased opinions of local experts, and they listened on short-wave radio to the news coming from Cairo.

In the halls of power, leaders analyzed the reports with growing concern and long faces. They took note. Another autocracy was going under. Without the mass media or military strategists to bail them out. The central role of events in Egypt was played by the people, made desperate by poverty and demanding freedom. A disturbing message for the Creole leaders.

Spontaneous popular movements have unpredictable effects. The Castros know this better than anyone. They have an efficient intelligence apparatus that gives them daily reports on the state of popular opinion in the island, which is certainly very tense. But still, they have room to maneuver.

For a number of Cubans, what happened in Egypt was a distant symphony. Mired in that vicious circle of getting food or repairing the roof before hurricane season arrives, they paid little attention to the Egyptian drama and its hundreds of dead and wounded.

When they think about the future, that part of the population doesn’t see itself protesting in a public square. The future, they say, is to live in a decent house, to have breakfast, lunch and dinner every day. And if they don’t connect with a US visa, to be able to travel to other countries.

Now, with the carrot of expanding self-employment held out by the government, they believe they may have an opportunity to change their fate. Of course, when it comes time to protest, they weigh fear, logic and the human factor, receiving a broadside of punches by riot troops or a bullet ending their lives. The spark that could ignite a possible revolt on the island has yet to be struck.

The Castros know that the situation in Cuba has all the ingredients for mass protests. There are similarities that scare them. The same desperation that drove millions of Egyptians to march to Tahrir Square is something that Cubans experience firsthand.

When will change arrive? In what form will it come? Popular revolts, or a slow and controlled transition from power? Predicting the future is complicated. Havana is not Cairo.

But in Cuba, definitely, democratic reform will happen. When a majority decides it. Meanwhile, uproars are seen only about buying potatoes or beer in bulk.

Translated by Regina Anavy

February 16, 2011

The half-empty pockets, the threat of unemployment and lack of a future don’t prevent Cubans from celebrating “sacred” events on the national calendar, like Mother’s Day, the second Sunday of May. Or the Day of Lovers, on February 14.

“You always ‘invent’ (find a solution), even though you have little money. You have only one life, and you have to try to enjoy it,” says René, 43, a waiter. You always break open the piggy bank on Valentine’s Day, and the celebration depends on your savings. “Last year I took my wife to dinner at a restaurant, and then we made love in one of those private homes that are rented out to couples.”

In 2011, the small change from René’s savings will reach only far enough to take his wife to a paladar and then to a nightclub. Still, he’s luckier than Luis Orlando, 18, a student. “I just connected with a jevita (girl), and all I can give her is some perfume, a bottle that was a gift to my mother, who didn’t like the scent and gave it to me.”

Perfumes and colognes figure among the most popular gifts on the island for the Day of Lovers. Also soaps, talcum powders and creams. “A Cuban can skimp on food, but he’s got to have soap, deodorant and lotion to put on after a bath,” says Emelina, 62, a homemaker.

This is a long-standing habit. Before 1959, branches of famous brands like Revlon, Max Factor, Avon and Helena Rubinstein were established in Cuba. And there were two large businesses that made beauty and home products, Crusellas and Sabatés. Later,the revolution clumped together the production of cosmetics, perfumes and toiletries in the Suchel firm, which today is part of Suchel-Camacho, a joint venture with Spain

“Once my husband appeared with a pressure cooker and I almost threw it at his head,” says Marina, 35, a clerk. “And I don’t like it either when they give me underwear. The best gift a man can give a woman that day is a box of chocolates or a bouquet of flowers.”

Philip, 46, a businessman, is romantic like that. He has hired an actor and a pianist, for a mini-recital in the living room of his large residence. “It will be a surprise for my wife. The reading of poems to music will last one hour. Then there will be a catering service that I hired, with a buffet first. And dinner with a bottle of Spanish wine.”

For those who can’t afford these luxuries, there’s always the wall of the Malecón. It’s free, on the Day of Lovers. And every day of the year.

Translated by Regina Anavy

February 13 2011

You already see hundreds of stalls selling CDs and videos. Good-natured, calm señoras who offer a wide range of religious articles and, in any Havana doorway, from one day to the next, a snack bar with fast food emerges.

When in October 2010 they authorized the expansion of self-employment, people took their time.

There were — and still are — doubts, because of the typical ups and downs of the orthodox policies of the government of the Castro brothers, who, when they feel the rope tightening around their necks, open their hands; but when they can breathe a little political and economic oxygen, they vigorously pursue those who engage in private business.

It’s not ancient history. In 1994, Fidel Castro reluctantly allowed people to work for themselves, following some advice discreetly whispered in his ear by the Spanish adviser Carlos Solchaga, sent in haste by Felipe González to stop the meteoric fall of an economy that had lost 35% of its gross domestic product. Then thousands of small private businesses appeared on the island.

It was the plank that saved Cuba from sinking back into the Stone Age. It’s enough to recall that in the ’90’s, blackouts lasted 12 hours a day. Due to malnutrition, exotic diseases such as optic neuropathy and beriberi emerged.

At that time, a dollar was exchanged for 120 pesos. A pack of cigarettes cost 100 pesos. A pound of rice, 80 pesos or more. An avocado could be as much as 120. And an awful bottle of rum, in order to get drunk and forget the hardships, was 150 pesos.

Those were hard years, with real hunger, when many people lost a lot of weight and even teeth. To stop the impending famine, along with military strategists, the State designed the zero option: huge pots, where trucks with armed guards would hand out rations for each block.

But blood did not flow to the river. Thanks, among other factors, to the stampede of 120,000 people who threw themselves into the sea in 1994, after having instigated, on August 5, a resounding popular protest for the authorization of the exodus, which permitted the pressure-cooker, on the point of exploding, to find some relief.

The other factor was the opening up of self-employment. Gradually, from 1994 to 2000, nearly 200,000 workers took out licenses, and businesses of all kinds sprouted. From opening a quality paladar (private restaurant) like La Guarida, where Queen Sofia of Spain dined, to rescuing smaller businesses like selling punch, repairing shoes or renting out clothing for quinceañeras and weddings.

Another determining factor was the emergence of more than 200 businesses with mixed capital. These pockets of capitalism led to the advent of new technologies and innovative methods of accounting and business administration.

Most significantly, what allowed that flowering was the legalization of the U.S. dollar in July 1993. Every year, remittances enter the government coffers of over a billion dollars, becoming the first industry of the country in terms of profits. Remittances, along with the development of tourism, allowed Fidel Castro to stay afloat.

Another plank of salvation was the emergence of an important character for Cuba: Hugo Chávez. The Bolivarian comandante became a godsend for Castro. By bartering oil for doctors or sports trainers, he sold black gold to the island at bargain prices.

This allowed the old guerrilla to return to fantasizing about the Latin American revolution and the fall of the “Yankee empire.” Evo Morales, Rafael Correa, Daniel Ortega and Lula da Silva, from a safe distance, joined the red orchestra. From that point on, Castro didn’t need entrepreneurial types who would make money on their own.

Living without state supervision creates a spirit of political and economic liberty that really bothers the spheres of power. Hundreds of controls, sanctions and excessive taxes were established to discourage self-employment.

And it worked. By 2008, the number of self-employed had declined to 50,000. Castro I made a miscalculation. Before handing over power to his brother in 2006, he failed to discern that despite the Venezuelan oil and entente with fellow revolutionary compañeros in Latin America, Cuba’s economic crisis still was not out of the woods, due to a system that barely functions.

On top of that, the experts’ numbers were not reliable. Apparently, the Cuban economy grew each year like an Asian tiger. And Castro thought he had won the battle. He sent a group of foreign investors back home and tried to recover the monolithic power he always liked to exercise.

But the numbers lied. Cuba was shipwrecked, and the global crisis which appeared in 2009 made it evident. Now General Raúl Castro must put out the fire while trying to establish new rules of the game. Trying to win over distrustful capitalists, with some backward investment laws, which don’t provide sufficient guarantees. Losing money is not welcome in times of trouble.

Unclenching the fist and allowing people to go into business was necessary to cushion the blow of more than 1,000,000 workers sent into unemployment. Many Cubans on the street were suspicious. At first they measured their steps. Given the urgent need to raise cash and try to live better, they jumped into the ring.

The owners of the private restaurants, those who rent rooms and private drivers, among others, gripe about exorbitant taxes. But they know that it will always be better to work for themselves than to work for the government at a ridiculous salary.

Relatives abroad, mostly in the United States, have come forward to help with the private businesses. Most of the owners of new private restaurants have received monetary support from their families in other countries, in order to open a business that requires a minimum investment of $5,000.

In this tenuous winter of 2011 in Cuba, those who invest in small private businesses continue to have doubts and fears about how the government will react when they start to make money.

They hope that Raúl Castro will be different from his brother.

If he isn’t, they are praying they can recover the money invested before the General decides to change policy. Like a mouse dodging the cat.

Translated by Regina Anavy

February 4 2011

John, 49, is a clever womanizer from Marseilles, who, besides fucking as many hookers as he can, always keeps an eye out for business. Several times he’s tried to start a little business in Cuba.

But he always ends up splitting hairs. The lengthy and incomprehensible legal procedures and limited legal safeguards end up discouraging him. The Frenchman, an habitual vegetarian, usually spends from three to four months in Havana, fleeing his country’s cold and stress.

While he examines possibilities for investing money, he has a blast, although he gripes about the lack of nightlife in the city, the loads of shortages and the absurd laws. Every day he’s irritated by the expense of an Internet connection and the poor quality of the wine on sale in the habanero markets. On the other hand, he appreciates the hospitality of the Cubans, “something that has been lost in France, where neighbors don’t even say hello.”

Every night, for just $35, he puts a young woman with hard flesh in his bedroom. Then he lounges around as much as possible. In 2011 he would like to set up a small company that would give him certain benefits and a good excuse to spend more time making love in the tropics, drinking rum and knowing people who aspire to live in a different society.

Alberto also flees the harsh winter in Europe. He’s 35, from Madrid, and is taking his first steps in cinema. He also is fascinated by the Cubans and the island’s climate. This Spaniard is not traveling in search of whores, or to bask in the warm sun of Varadero.

Alberto is an idealist and a freethinker, convinced that Cuba deserves better luck. He hates Fidel Castro because of Franco in Spain. “Fuck, we know what a dictatorship is like.” He hopes to make several documentaries. While preparing the script, he gets to know people and reads about local history.

They are two sides of one coin. John thinks only about going to bed with black women and doing profitable business with the Castro brothers’ government. And Alberto, who’s particularly fond of the island, is more interested in its democratic future.

Where the Gallic hedonist and the Spanish altruist agree is that they both touch down in Havana, trying to avoid the harsh European winter. Once on the island, each goes about his business.

Translated by Regina Anavy

February 9 2011