Malecón has already filled with teenagers, families, and lovers, all strolling along the seaside beneath a velvety, starlit sky. Romance is a huge theme in Havana. Besides the local lovers embracing and kissing at any hour of the day on the Malecón, love for sale is also a long-standing— and legal—tradition in Cuba. But, as Pablo later elaborated, pimping is not legal. I thought this was a rather interesting distinction. After all, no matter your moral viewpoint on prostitution, the fact that male and female prostitutes are legally allowed to ply their trade yet keep all their earnings—not having to pay a pimp or a madam a generous cut and not paying government taxes—is rather revolutionary. As far as Cuba’s poverty is concerned, those in power are continuously working to develop a new, stronger economy. After the USSR fell and Moscow stopped subsidies in the early 1990s, the island plunged into
crisis. To combat the financial emergency, Cuba’s government threw open her shores and began heavily marketing to the tourist trade. The money, thankfully, began to flow in. Pablo told us that the government’s eventual plan is to develop Cuba into a biomedical manufacturing center like Singapore. Pablo admitted that he quit teaching college for the financial benefits of working in the tourism industry. With the tips he collects from tours, he has been able to afford his own private home and comfortable lifestyle. His official salary is around twenty dollars per month, but with tips, he makes that many times over. And, as Pablo later elaborated, any money earned by a Cuban citizen via the tourist trade, including tips, fully belong to the citizen—no taxes whatsoever. Even with such poverty, the crime rate in Cuba is very low. Once, while touring historical downtown Havana with the group, I became separated and was
lost for several hours. I wandered alone through the side streets and alleyways toting one of Tommy’s huge and obviously very expensive cameras. If ever there was a golden opportunity for someone to mug me, that probably would’ve been the time. But everyone in the busy street responded to me in a friendly manner, politely going about their own business. Danny, the private tour guide that we hired later in the week, explained the reason for the low crime. “It’s because you never know who is watching,” he said, with a gesture that implied possible hidden cameras. He told us there were still plain-clothed government officials among the population, keeping tabs on everyone. Clearly, Castro had learned a thing or two from the former KGB. Late on Wednesday evening, Tommy arranged to go out with Danny. They were going to search for a very specific shot to photograph: a beautiful woman dancing—a real spirited and fiery cubanita. Sadly, I