Casas Particulares: Experiencing the "Real" Cuba

I step off the Viazul tourist bus in Trinidad, relieved to see an old man standing just outside the hot dusty bus station holding a sign on which my name is announced.  I am the first, and only American, among many other foreign travelers from Western Europe, Canada, and Australia to grab my oversized backpack from underneath the bus.  I wipe the sweat dripping off my forehead, say my farewells to the other travelers I met on our bus ride from Cienfuegos, throw my heavy backpack onto my shoulders, and walk to my Cuban host. 

Smiling, "Hola señor! Soy Marko," I graciously say in Spanish.  "Hola! Soy Tito. Vamos," replies the tall slender slouched-over man with a full head of white hair. 

He looks down at every step and limps as we slowly pass by the crowd of younger locals pitching their suggestions to other travelers asking for accommodation.  Tito leads me down several weathered cobble-stoned streets lined with sturdy Spanish colonial buildings. 

Originally owned by his wife Giselle's grandmother, their 19th-century home is painted yellow on the outside with a large dark brown door made of wood.  This house is my home for the next few days. 

While Tito unlocks the door, I look up, and notice the official blue Casa Particular (Cuban Bed & Breakfast) logo located just above our heads.

Casas Particulares (simply referred to as "casas") and their humble hosts provide a unique opportunity for foreign travelers seeking alternative and authentic experiences that are not written about in some guidebook or advertised as a backpacker tour in hostels.

For most Western travelers on a budget, Cuba and its casas offer the unexplored--an experience that differs from the hosteling environment so many budget travelers are increasingly accustomed to throughout the world.  In fact, there are no hostels in Cuba.  More mainstream tourists opting for resort-style hotels will only find these lavish accommodations at beachside resorts outside Havana--such as in Veradero--or in only a few other Cuban cities that cater to mainstream tourists.

I spent 30 days--as part of a cultural research project--to try and understand why foreigners, particularly budget travelers backpacking through Central America, detour to travel in Cuba.  I was curious to know how these travelers receive information on what to do and see while traveling in this seemingly closed off country (especially from an American's point of view).  I traveled from the gritty hard-nosed, yet welcoming, city of Havana where Hemingway was inspired to write his novel To Have and Have Not, to the eastern region of the country locals call, El Oriente.  

Outside Havana, I first encountered the lush growth of dark green vegetation in Viñales, surrounded by limestone mountains and caves--a place to be one with nature--and of course, tasted organic tobacco grown in the region's dark red-orange soil.

I then experienced the French-flavored city of Cienfuegos, known as the "Pearl of the South," and the Spanish colonial gem, Trinidad, where horse-drawn carriages share the cobble-stoned roads with 1950s Chevys and Fords. 

  

I then detoured to the labyrinth center of Camagüey where I wandered the streets, easily got lost, and unexpectedly discovered the emerald-eyed woman on a bicycle.  I finally made it to Carnival in Santiago de Cuba where non-stop partying and dancing filled the hot steamy streets in the local neighborhood of Sueño.  

Realizing mid-way through the Carnival week that I yearned to escape to a much more relaxing place and give my well-traveled body a rest, I fled the Caribbean fiesta early.  In Baracoa, the oldest Cuban city at the eastern tip of El Oriente, I found peace and tranquility along the bay.  Beyond my upstairs bedroom window, the morning sunrise illuminated the sky with a platinum light that reflected off the rusted tin roofs of the dilapidated houses and stunning Atlantic waters.

Throughout the country, the Viazul is the mandatory tourist bus that, unfortunately, separates foreign travelers from locals.  Like many tourists in Cuba, I felt this transportation mode confining at times.  Although a few daring locals managed to hitch a ride on the Viazul, only if they could negotiate with or knew the bus driver, most of my interactions on the bus were with other foreign travelers.  It was during bus rides when I first gained insight as to why foreigners chose Cuba in which to travel.

According to Pete, the 35-year old British geologist, he really wanted "to see Cuba before it changes."  This trip was his first in Cuba, but he felt that: "You can sense Cuba is already changing, especially with the increase in tourism."  Morgan, the 21-year old energetic Australian with a knack for striking up conversations expressed: "I'm bummed that the Che mausoleum is closed now for renovation.  That was on the top of my 'to see' list while traveling Cuba.  But at least I was able to find a three peso [Cuban national money] bill and coin with the image of Che on it."  Heidi, the 32-year old Finish woman living in Oslo initially traveled solo to Cuba to hear live salsa music and feel the dancing pulse of Cubans.  As time went on, she found herself more interested in touring as much of the country as possible during her four-week holiday.  Bill, Morgan's 56-year old father, took a step back in time and was fascinated by the 1950s American Chevys and Fords that roam the streets and highways.  He also enjoyed the casual slow-paced shopping environment inside the one-room department stores where women employees stand behind glass counters filing their nails, watching novelas on a small television.  Perusing these stores reminded Bill of what shopping was like when he was a child.

For the Dutch couple, in addition to Pete, and most other foreign travelers in Cuba, they came to see the workings of a small-scale socialist system surviving in the shadows of a global capitalist economy.  Mike, a soft spoken German, explained: "This country really is the last true successful socialist country in the world.  I'm glad I get to see it now before things really change."  

Although many of my travel mates' experiences in Cuba occurred while wandering the streets, most of them, including myself, valued the comfort staying in casas and learning from Cuban hosts.  As a welcome change from most budget travelers' experiences staying in hostels, casa hosts provide travelers with a unique opportunity to speak with them directly in their homes about their country, culture, history, family, and simple way of life. 

"Living with families is a nice change from being surrounded by travelers who frequent hostels," expressed Camille, the free-spirited school teacher from France.

As Tito opens the door and welcomes me into his home, he kindly says, "Mi casa es tu casa."  I cannot help but be astonished by the size of my new home and its many rooms.  He walks me through a formal sitting room with 20-foot high ceilings and into the living room where old family photos hang on the walls.  We walk past three dimly lit spacious bedrooms, through the dining room, and into a damp narrow hallway cluttered with antiques.  We walk past a fourth bedroom, into the kitchen where I smell congri (black beans and rice) simmering in a large pot, and through an adjacent study room full of dusty books about the first Cuban revolutionary, Jose Martí.  We finally reach my bedroom, which looks out into a small courtyard where an old Peugeot sits retired.  Beyond my bedroom and the study area is the backyard with a small patio where I eat my eggs, fresh fruit, and toast each morning and enormous Cuban dinners during the evenings.

Having just started reading Gabriel García Márquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude, my mind is full of wonder and I begin to imagine the many stories that have been created in the casa de Giselle y Tito.  I feel at times as a 19th-century privileged criollo (Cuban-born person of full Spanish descent) cared for by my grandparents, and, simultaneously, as a 1950s revolutionary passing through town taken in by encouraging and supportive locals of the revolution.  Tito and Giselle cater to all my needs, jump at every opportunity to speak with me in "Spanglish," and provide me with guidance in their city.

While living with Tito and Giselle, I found that all the experiences foreign travelers sought in Cuba stemmed right inside their casas.  I spoke with Tito and Giselle about Cuba, Trinidad, our families, Che (who believe it or not once rode in the retired Peugeot sitting outside my bedroom door), the old American cars, the simple Cuban way of life, and their country's slow-paced society built by a revolution now struggling to adapt to our fast-paced world.  By speaking with travelers, I realized that they too experienced the "real" Cuba, and found what they were initially searching for in their travels, by living with locals in their casas. 

Just about the only experience that Tito and Giselle could not offer me during my stay within the casa was live Cuban salsa, the national music and dance.  Tito and Giselle suggested I visit the Casa de La Trova (Cuban music house) in Trinidad, as well as the outside steps next to the main cathedral where I found live Cuban salsa.  Listening each night to the Afro-Caribbean sounds of drums, guitars, and trumpets, with locals and fellow travelers intermingling over bottles of Havana Club rum, truly summed up my travel experiences. 

It was during those nights experiencing live salsa in Trinidad when travelers welcomed the chance to share their travel stories among each other and with locals--stories that developed simply by staying in casas throughout the country.  We were looking for, and found, our own special moments in Cuba--those very moments I was able to share with not only fellow travelers, but with Tito and Giselle.  Through foreign travelers' stories, I found some answers as to why they decided to detour from Central America to Cuba, and how they receive information about what to do and see in this intriguing, social, country.

Back at my casa, sitting out on the back patio reading my book in solitude with a cup of strong black coffee and a hand rolled-cigar in hand, I had the opportunity to further think about what makes Cuba so unique through the eyes of a foreign traveler.  My understanding of other travelers' experiences in Cuba came to fruition not only by speaking with them during my trek east, and dancing with them on the steps, but while interacting and learning from casa hosts along the way.  Many of the casas and their hosts throughout Cuba offer more than what foreigners had initially hoped to find.  

I sit on the patio in Trinidad, my final evening, glancing out into the garden where the mango and avocado trees intertwine their roots beneath the earth, and experience my special moment--an authentic moment available, only to me, in Cuba, in Trinidad, and specifically in the backyard of the casa de Giselle y Tito.