by Oliver Hill
Narration
It is not technically illegal to visit Cuba, but thanks to the 41-year-old trade embargo, the United States prohibits its citizens from spending money there. I pushed this policy to the back my mind when I visited Cuba for six months to study percussion in 1999. Still I was a bit nervous and chose a round about itinerary to get there: by plane from New York to Puerto Rico; then by ferry to the Dominican Republic, and finally on to Havana in an old Russian plane with psychedelic pea-green upholstery.
The Cuban customs officials could have cared less about my country's travel regulations, and they welcomed me and my greenbacks with open arms.
Once outside the Jose Marti airport, it quickly became clear that while tourist dollars may indeed be propping up Castro's regime, they have little visible effect on the cold war landscape where infrastructure remains in a state of disrepair.
Visitors to Cuba are restricted to hotels and guesthouses licensed by the government. But like many foreigners, I stayed with unlicensed families who charged half as much.
This necessitated frequent moves to avoid local immigration officials who impose heavy fines on Cubans illegally harboring visitors.
Before long, I found a man to teach me how to play Bata, the hourglass shaped drums used in Santeria ceremonies. But my instructor didn't have a set himself, so I had to buy one. This was far more complicated than going to Sam Ash. First I had to find someone to carve the wooden bodies. Then I had to find cowhide for the heads. Finally, I needed nickel plated steel for the fixtures, a metal in short supply and only available to medical professionals. I found a doctor who had some and bought it from him before taking it to a welder with my specifications. After another two weeks I finally had my drums. By that time I had been in Cuba for nearly two months, the maximum stay permitted with my tourist visa.
So I had to leave the country and obtain a new visa upon my return. My percussion lessons would have to wait. I flew home for Christmas through Montreal, taking two boxes of cigars with me. When I took a train across the border Cuba was never mentioned. I sold the cigars to a rich gas executive in Boston for 1300 dollars, and returned to Cuba in January to finally let the learning begin.
A few months later I took another cigar-laden trip to renew my visa, this time to Mexico. I had become an international cigar dealer to support my studies in a forbidden country. Upon my return to Havana, I spent another two months at the drums before running out of money.
When I returned to the States, again, flying through Montreal, I was detained at the U.S. - Canadian border where my insistence that I'd been to Montreal for the weekend was betrayed by four large suitcases and a bicycle.
"When was the last time you were in Cuba?" asked the customs officer. "Yesterday," I replied. This prompted a thorough search of my luggage while my fellow travelers looked on with mounting impatience from the bus. I convinced the Customs agent that I had made the drums myself in New Hampshire and not supported the enemy by purchasing them in Cuba. "Don't worry," said the Customs agent, "as long as you're not smuggling cigars, we don't really care that you've been to Cuba."
When both the house and the senate voted to abandon travel restrictions in 2003, President Bush threatened a veto, and the reform was dropped from the bill. Bush then vowed to prosecute travelers who violate the policy with the maximum 55,000-dollar fine.
While there have been cases where fines were levied for traveling to Cuba without a license, the travel restriction is more of an inconvenience than a real threat.
Yet, as demonstrated by the 2000 presidential election, Florida's Cuban exiles form a crucial constituency in securing the oval office, and their close relationship to the Bush family upholds the status quo.
If Kerry should win the presidency in November, perhaps he will side with congress and finally end the embargo. Until then, the thrill of defying U.S. policy will continue to lure Americans to the forbidden island just off our shores. For Columbia Radio News, I'm Oliver Hill.