Cuba '91: One is the loneliest number

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10 SOCIALIST ACTION JANUARY 1992 Returning to Cuba after a six-year absence, one is transfixed by a country caught in the grip of a "special period in time of peace," as Fidel Castro has called the present. Cuba, still an inspiration to revolutionaries the world over, and especially the Third World, is slowly being strangled by the 30-year old U.S economic embargo and the recent cut-off of Soviet and Eastern European trade. Until two years ago, this trade accounted for 85 percent of Cuba's foreign exchange.

Cuba is first and foremost a revolutionary, socialist country, and walking down any Cuban street one sees billboards saying "Revolución Si!, Venceremos!" ("We Will Overcome!"), "Yo Me Quedo!" ('I'm Staying!"). And taped to people's windows all over the island is the slogan of the recently completed 4th Communist Party Congress: "To Save the Country, the Revolution, and Socialism."

But change is also evident. Cuba is set to import one-half million bicycles from China this year to make up for the shortfall in oil that they are supposed to receive from the Soviet Union. The Malecón, Havana's beautiful bayfront boulevard that used to have six traffic lanes, now has two reserved for bicycles.

Instead of cars, exemplary workers are awarded bicycles, and of the cars one sees on the streets, many are 40, 50, even 60years old.

Bus service has been cut from 32,000 to 20,000 trips per day, and 10 percent water is being added to diesel fuel as an experiment. According to Cubans I talked to who didn't own bicycles, three hour waits for a bus are not uncommon.

In the countryside, 100,000 oxen have replaced tractors, and horse-drawn buses are being used to augment motorized ones.

As of Sept. 30, Cuba had received only 38 percent of the goods contracted for from the Soviet Union this year, and 76 percent of that was in oil. Everything, from soap and cigarettes to gasoline and food, is now rationed. The parallel market, where Cubans could formerly buy things not rationed, is shut down.

Even in Havana's El Presidente Hotel, where conditions were no doubt better than in most of the country, there were times when there was no electricity, no telephones, no water, and no elevators.

"Food is difficult. Transportation is difficult. People are having a hard time," said Miguel Alfonso, of the Institute of International Relations. "People are complaining, but not about the system."

Despite these setbacks, Cuba remains head and shoulders above any other Third World country in terms of standard of living, which is measured by the UN Commission on Human Rights, not in terms of cars, but in terms of life expectancy, infant mortality, and literacy. Cuba's life expectancy is now 76 years, compared to 50 in the rest of the Third World.

Infant mortality is 10.7 per 1000 live births, compared to 21 in Washington, D.C., U.S.A.! Literacy is 98 percent.

There are no homeless, no unemployed, and in spite of rationing, everyone is guaranteed 2950 calories and 89 grams of protein per day.

Education is free through college, medical care is free your whole life, and children Joyce Stoller italist mode of production, and that under socialism a nuke is not inherently dangerous. But Cuba, more than any other country in the world, is treating 10,000 children from the Chernobyl disaster, so they are obviously aware of the danger. They just don't see that they have any choice.

In its scramble for dollars, Cuba is, for the first time, promoting foreign investThere are tourist hotels, tourist restaurants, tourist stores, tourist discos, even tourist taxis that only take dollars, and which Cubans cannot use. And then there is the peso economy marked by long lines, empty shelves, and overwhelming scarcity.

Walking down any Cuban street, it is impossible not to be accosted by Cubans wanting to change pesos into dollars at the rate of 20 pesos for 1 dollar. (The official exchange rate is 1:1.)

Gino Jansson, 22, who speaks five languages and works as a travel guide, told me, "When I'm a translator with a tour, I can't go into the same restaurants the tourists can go in because I don't have dollars."

Malcolm Ahmed, 20, a student in computers added, "We very much like the fashions from the United States. But we can't go into tourist stores to buy it." (U.S. products sold in tourist stores are brought into Cuba through other countries.)

I will never forget the stabbing I felt in my stomach when I excused myself to have dinner in my hotel, knowing that my friends couldn't come with me. "We're hungry," said Malcolm. "Could you buy us some crackers?" He was referring to the tourist store in the hotel where they only take dollars.

Both Malcolm and Gino consider themselves revolutionaries and take for granted the free healthcare, education, and low-cost housing with which they have grown up. As Malcolm said, "I want capital, not capitalism in Cuba."

Fifty-three percent of Cuba's population is under 25 years old, and this generation, raised with egalitarian principles, now feels a keen sense of resentment against "tourist apartheid." They see foreigners buying things they can't buy, and feel, consequent-