Havana, Cuba --
This country does not have a great car museum. It is a
great car museum.
It's still illegal for Americans to visit Cuba. But it's easy
enough to
sneak in illegally or to come here by taking advantage of the
large
loopholes covering "humanitarian" and other group ventures.
Some of the "don't dos," I quickly found, are to stay in a regular
hotel
(too expensive). Opt instead for one of the many homes that Cuban
Premier
Fidel Castro has allowed to be licensed for visitors in an obvious
effort to
bolster the sagging economy.
Our group of four shared two bedrooms in a large house owned by a
retired
economics professor. We were treated like a royal extension of the
family,
and as a bonus took part in many candid political discussions.
Cubans are extremely friendly to Americans and our dollars, of
course. They
only express dislike of our government and its short-sighted
policies. But
still it's not a good idea to draw attention to yourself by taking
out a
notebook, which I did.
Luckily, one of my traveling companions warned me. He was a good
source
because he was here as an Associated Press Correspondent when
Fidel Castro
first took over in 1959.
Don't try to buy any Cuban cigars here, either. Perhaps the most
unreliable
street salesmen (and there are many) are the cigar peddlers who
all share
the same story: their grandmother works at a factory and gets
seconds.
Another don't: renting cars. If you get in an accident, insurance
poses a
ticklish issue. And there aren't a lot of cars to rent.
Instead, hire a guide. They are cheap and readily available.
Cuba is still
an exotic country, and that's a major incentive
alone to come here. But it quickly dawned on me that there's
another
compelling reason: the country's amazing cars, and the culture
associated
with it.
European cars are not unheard of here, and you'll new Mercedes and
BMW's.
You also find Cuban streets clogged with Russian Ladas, so
unreliable the
joke is that "you don't have a car, you have a Lada."
But the real stars of the streets that turned our heads throughout
a
week-long-stay were the American cars. A popular sport for
Cuba-goers, in
fact, is to debate the various makes and models, much as
bird-watchers try
to identify particular species.
There are an estimated 250,000 vintage American vehicles within
Cuba, the
largest island in the Caribbean and home to 11 million people.
Some vehicles
are relics rusting in the streets, but most continue to rumble
along, a
testimonial both to American manufacturing know-how and Cuban
inventiveness.
"Why buy anything but an American car?" observed one Cuban
car-owner, Jorge
Cabrera. "Look how long they lasted."
Cubans who make an average of $25 a month like our engineer guide
can often
not afford cars, however, much less pay the $4 a gallon for
gasoline. Some
or perhaps even many of the American cars that often come from the
1950s era
have been passed down repeatedly from family members.
Many of the American cars may look like they have been re-done
with house
paint, and rumble more than roar down the street, but they are a
point of
pride for Cubans. Cubans say they view cars with the reverence the
French
have for four-star restaurants.
Prior to the revolution, Cuba was the largest importer of American
cars in
the Caribbean. And even today, cars are regarded as the most
valuable luxury
item in the country.
"These cars are like old friends," said Alberto Ibarra, a doorman
at the
still-luxurious Hotel Nacional. "People love them so they will do
anything
to keep them alive."
Car mechanics are valued enough to be among the highest paid
workers in
Cuba, said Dan Heller, a San Francisco-based photographer who
sells Cuban
photos.
"Owning a car is at the top of the food chain in social and
economic
attitudes," Heller said. The family Sunday drives that used to
characterize
America remain common in today's Cuba.
When a car breaks down in Cuba, there's no AAA-style auto service
to call
for help.
Cubans are known as very friendly people, however, and that's
evident when
strangers frequently stop to help others with mechanical problems.
Still, visitors such as myself have to wonder: With a
long-standing American
embargo on trade and without easy access to American parts, how do
the
Cubans keep these cars running?
The answer is simple. The ingenuity of Cubans can be found
everywhere. For
example, women dress up in fancy costumes and worm their way into
pictures,
then ask $1 posing fees.
Similarly, Cubans have learned to adapt foreign parts from Russian
cars to
work in American vehicles. Another repair technique is to smuggle
in parts
illegally. Car parts are also bought through black market
operators who
offer many other products not openly sold here.
But even more
common perhaps is for machine shops to re-make
existing parts to fit American vehicles. Creative mechanics have
twisted and
milled odd scraps of metal to keep motors, bodies and suspensions
together.
A Cuban antique car owner who asked that his name not be used
cites his own
1953 Oldsmobile as an example. The car runs with the help of a
used and
modified generator from a Soviet Lada. The auto's transmission is
a 1956
Olds model. It's differential is from a 1954 Buick. Finally,
there's an
oversized battery in the trunk that comes from a boat.
