Cuba is dryer than I had expected. It is only 90 miles from Florida, so I thought it should be more tropical. In fact, the countryside looks more like Southern California. There is a six month dry season, from January through June. Havana and its surrounds are a little less arid than the interior and the east. And along the north coast in at least some places there are mangroves. I don't know how wet it is in the summer and fall, but the flora is more desert than jungle. (As I revise this I have just been caught in a good sized thunderstorm - a downpour which flooded some streets - this during the "dry" season? Now, the next day, the wind has freshened and the temperature declined from 85º to 82º. This was a winter cold front.)
The farther east we went, the hotter it got. Santiago de Cuba was the worst. Even locals advised visiting downtown either early in the morning or late in the afternoon. I plan to do some climatological research to see if our experience was anomalous.
The Cuban people are a happy people. Most believe fervently in the rightness of their socialist government, much as I believe about our democracy. Everyone we asked was willing to speak about their life, their family, their job, and their expectations - apparently openly. They seem well educated, with universal literacy and plenty of college education. We asked, and learned, about health care and aging and personal economics.
We saw no evidence that Cuba is in any sense a "police state." Rather, it is a socialist state with a faltering economy - more like Northern Europe without the wealth than like the USSR. Castro nationalized all the businesses in the 60s, and collectivized most of the agriculture. In the last decade or two some small businesses have been allowed and even encouraged. Tourism has become a significant part of the economy. Incentive pay is offered to factory workers: e.g. in the cigar factory for rolling cigars in excess of the daily minimum. Paladares are privately owned and operated restaurants that provide more varied, and usually pricier, meals.
Instead of hotels, we stayed in "casas particulares" throughout Cuba. More like home-stays than Airbnbs, these are homes in which the owners will rent out rooms to visitors, with breakfast and sometimes other meals on request. Our accommodations ranged from very modest to penthouse, but our hosts were invariably glad to have us and willing to chat with us as much as we wanted. Our travel company chose the casas as much for their hosts (and/or hostesses) as for the quality and location of the rooms. We stayed with an architect, a pediatrician, a retired soldier, and a taxi driver's wife, among others. Some spoke English well, and some almost not at all. In every case we figured out how to communicate, and were soon able to turn the conversation to serious topics. We spoke about health care and how the aging are treated. We asked about the Cuban economy and how the system of incentive pay works. We learned about their attitudes and beliefs about the United States. We kept an open mind and were frequently surprised.
In the 1990s the Cubans suffered a decade of privation. When the Soviet Union fell, Cuba suddenly lost the benefit of their primary trading partner and source of supporting. Their economy collapsed, and many went hungry. They refer to this time as the "special period." It was worst in the cities, because in the countryside they were more able to forage, hunt, and plant. This is a subject about which they are generally more reluctant to speak.
The government guarantees each person enough food that she will not starve. This comes in the form of a ration card. Like our food stamps, but it can only be used for staples, not snacks and sodas. I am told that the government guarantees housing for all, as well. I am less clear on just how this works. Most people