Young Cubans want the Yankee dollar

ERIC’s wrists are heavy with gold watches — but he’d swap the pair of them in a flash for one that worked. He drives his battered crimson Daewoo with pride, as well he might given that Cuba’s import taxes meant it cost $16 000 (about R192 000).

But he would dearly love, one day, to upgrade to a new Peugeot, currently for sale in Havana at $200 000. “A red one,” he says, flashing his gold teeth. “Girls like red cars.”

Eric, 37, is part of a new generation of Cubans hungry for change. His parents’ generation, for the most part, remain loyal to the 1959 revolution and grateful for free housing, education and healthcare.

But millions of young Cubans like Eric are resolute that they must be able to work and earn a living — even if they are not, yet, calling for an end to Cuba’s socialist model and its replacement with outright capitalism.

At last, perhaps, they will get their way. On Friday, Cuban President Raúl Castro met his US counterpart, Barack Obama, at the Summit of the Americas in Panama— the first such meeting in more than 50 years — as part of a move to end Cold War-era hostility.

The embargo remains in place — and can be removed only by Congress, which is currently Republican and hostile towards Havana.

But since December the situation has evolved rapidly: Cubans can export and Americans can import certain goods; internet access is being rolled out; and Americans can visit Cuba without express government permission — for cultural, educational and family visits, for instance.

Friday’s meeting was seen as a milestone in the months of discussions on the reopening of embassies, the launch of new flights to the island, and the re-establishment of banking systems.

“We need investment,” said Josefina Vidal, chief negotiator for Havana. “We have been studying what a small country like Singapore has been doing. But in summary, it’s going to be a Cuban model.”

For those like Eric — gold dealer, taxi driver, wheelerdealer — that cannot come quickly enough. “Cuba’s messed up,” he says. “We just want to earn a living, like everyone else.”

On the Malecon, Havana’s famous seafront, Eric points out where his friends set off for Miami in flimsy rafts.

The exodus had four main peaks: immediately after the revolution; in the late 1960s, as Fidel Castro’s grip tightened; in 1980, with the Mariel boat lift; and under Bill Clinton, from 1993 to 1995. And it continues to this day: last year nearly 4 000 Cuban made the treacherous sea trip to the US.

“My friend wanted me to go with him about six months ago,” says Eric. “But I have my wife and kid and car, and I said no. He rang me from Miami a few days later, though — he made it. He’s got a job now, the Cuban American Foundation helped him.”

As a taxi driver in Havana, Eric can make $10 a day, almost half the monthly state salary for some people. A gastroenterologist, for instance, says she earns $36 a month.

Cuba’s GDP per capita of about $6 000 makes its citizens slightly wealthier than those of Peru or the Dominican Republic, and slightly poorer than Serbians and Colombians. Neighbouring Haiti is the poorest country in the western hemisphere, with an annual GDP per capita of about $900.

Since 2011 Cubans are allowed in some cases to be self-employed — they may run their own restaurants, or hairdressing salons, for instance. They may also open B&Bs, renting rooms for $20 a night, provided they pay a hefty tax for doing so.

But despite Obama-era reforms, the embargo still means that, in practice, economic activity is limited.

The former president, now 88, was last seen in March and no longer wields political power. Yet his influence remains strong.

“I don’t think Fidel objects to us talking to the Yanks now,” says Eric. “He’s said that we need to modernise our economy, and the US will help that. He did say he didn’t trust them, though.

“We’re really looking forward to Americans coming here. It’ll liven the place up no end.”—

Cuba’s messed up. We just want to earn a living like everyone else