Bienvenido a Cuba!

I’m putting my faith in the gods of Cuban wifi and hoping I can upload a quick post to let everyone know how things are going here. If they really smile upon me, there may even be a photo or two for your viewing pleasure. (Success!)

My first few days have been, above all, an exercise in patience. Those of you who know me well are probably aware that patience isn’t exactly one of greatest virtues. However, after much time spent in Mexico and Central America, I’ve learned to just roll with the punches. Cuba has been particularly challenging, but that hasn’t exactly come as a surprise.

On my first full day in Havana, the power went out at the guesthouse shortly after I woke up. After a few delays, I made my way to the Instituto de Historia de Cuba (IHC), the main archive where I was planning to work, in order to do the necessary paperwork for my academic visa. As promised, the administrator with whom I’ve been in contact, a woman named Belkis, is an absolute delight. I was thrilled when she told me that I could have use of internet at the IHC…until I actually attempted to get online. Not only was the connection slower than 90s dial-up (as expected), but I discovered that I was unable to access either of my two Gmail accounts. Now, this would be a problem at any time, but given the fact that I’m currently trying to secure a Mexican residence visa, I was particularly bothered by this development.

The other main hurdle to come my way at the IHC was the official confirmation of what I already knew: all of the documents are locked away for construction. The IHC is located in a beautiful old 19^th century building called the Palacio de Aldama, which is currently crumbling to the ground. A massive restoration project is underway, which is great—though not for me. All the materials I had hoped to see will be unavailable for the entirety of the restoration…which is estimated to last anywhere from five to ten years (which, at this rate, may still be less time than it takes me to write my dissertation). Fortunately there are other archives for me to visit, so all is not lost.

I returned to the casa that afternoon to get settled in and acquaint myself a bit with the area. The power stayed out for the rest of the day, seemingly the result of a massive public works project in the neighborhood. They bury the power lines under the street here, so in order to do repairs, all of the streets were being dug up for about a five-block radius. According to my hosts, the workers probably broke a line during repairs. To everyone’s relief, the lights came on at 9 pm, as did the air conditioning.

The next morning I made my way to the IHC to officially begin my research in their library, the one place that isn’t closed during construction. As I bid good morning to the security guards, I was greeted with a phrase that has already become too familiar: “No hay corriente.” No electricity. I had already been informed that the library would be closed for a meeting that afternoon, so it seemed the gods of productivity were sending me a message loud and clear: there would be no research that day.

I decided instead to go in search of wifi, which is an interesting process in Cuba. Wifi can be found at a handful of parks and hotels. You know you’ve found it when you see dozens of Cubans huddled around using their cell phones, a sight that is noticeably absent elsewhere, for those of us used to seeing people constantly staring at their phones. In order to use the wifi, you buy a card for about $3—a high price by western standards that is nothing short of outrageous for people earning Cuban pesos. The card gives you a login code and a password that gives you access to one hour of wifi. $3 (US) for one hour.

I bought a card, logged in, and was promptly informed by Google Chrome that there was no way the app was going to let me use such a ridiculously insecure signal, in more or less those words. I was determined to check my email (and maintained hope that the public wifi would give me access not permitted by the IHC servers), so I went back to the casa and picked up my computer. I was more than a little apprehensive about opening up my mac book in a public park, but was assured by multiple people that this isn’t a problem. In fact, Havana is remarkably safe. It’s one of the perks of being a police state, I suppose. As I arrived back at the park, I realized there were, in fact, multiple people working on computers. I logged on once again and was this time blessed with a surprisingly fast and efficient connection—for five minutes, after which the signal died a horrible death, never to return. I waited for about half an hour before moving to another site, only to come up empty-handed there as well. On the upside, I learned in the short time I had that I would be able to access my email…just not at that moment. I spent the rest of my day wandering the streets and periodically returning to the park to look for a signal, but it never came back.

I woke up on day three hopeful that I might actually be able to work. I made my way to the IHC where the power had fortunately come back on, but when I popped into the library I was informed that the staff was in a meeting until noon. Of course they were. After speaking to Belkis about my visa (which I could pick up on Tuesday) and another contact I needed to meet with at the IHC (who would be there Monday), I decided to again try my luck with the wifi. This time I was finally able to connect and managed to access my email. All is well and I’ve made contact with the outside world. When I returned to the IHC after lunch, I was even able to start my research. It was Friday afternoon and things were finally underway.

Now it’s Saturday and I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to upload this post. There’s a chance I may head to the beach with my host and some of his German friends later today, where I’ve been assured there are copious amounts of lobster and beer to be consumed. Tomorrow I’ve been invited to the home of one of the guesthouse employees, the lovely Elisabel, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite people and who is apparently dying to cook me dinner and show me some proper Cuban hospitality. All is well in Havana.