We arrived in Havana airport with tonnes of time to spare before our flight was scheduled to leave. As we had no interest in buying any Ché merchandise we quickly joined the incredibly long check-in line. When, after more than an hour, we eventually got to the front of the queue the check-in lady asked us to show our onward journey ticket from Ecuador. We showed her our ticket from Brazil back to Europe at the end of October. No, no this is not good enough she said excitedly. You need a ticket out of Ecuador. We tried to assure her that our ticket out of South America would be sufficient proof that we were not planning to settle down in Ecuador and raise a family. Not convinced, she led us to a back room where her infectious worry and excitability quickly took over everyone else in the room and they explained that they wouldn’t let us board unless we bought a plane ticket out of Ecuador then and there. Faced with the prospect of having to stay in Cuba, possibly forever (I get a tad dramatic in tense situations) we both got weak in the knees and my Newfie (who has a masters in International Diplomacy) put on his best persuasive and charming voice and did his best to woo the room of excitable, yet powerful, airport staff. In his most calm and authoritative voice, he informed them that he had contacted the embassy beforehand and was assured that there would be no problem. Still not budging they told us we would have to buy onward flights then and there.
Seeing the look of absolute terror that was spreading across our faces they then calmly asked my Newfie where he was from. Upon hearing that he was in fact Canadian and not a dreaded American they relaxed and even flashed a smile and helpfully told us they could print us out a fake reservation which we could take with us just in case we ran into any problems in Quito. Overcome with relief we almost hugged the people that only minutes earlier we had hated so much and raced to catch our flight.
It’s no wonder that Americans put Canadian flags on their backpacks to fool people. In Cuba things are so bad that if your bank has any connection with an American bank your card will spat back out at you in seconds at an ATM. But then you can kind of see why. These people can’t even buy soap for themselves. On numerous occasions women asked us if we had any soap or shampoo we could give them. We had brought exercise books and pens for school kids but had not thought of anything for adults. And this was absolutely nothing like begging I’ve experienced in Asia. It was not that they couldn’t afford these items particularly they just weren’t even available to buy or save up for them. Is this the Cubans’ fault or because of the American’s embargo? I’m pretty sure it is both. The Americans seemed to make things unnecessarily difficult for these unfortunate people while their own government doesn’t seem to care much for its nation.
Fortunately everyone loves Canadians and I learned that it’s ever so useful having one with you while travelling. Especially when they can so easily sweet talk people out of difficult situations. Now if only I wasn’t so powerless to these charms myself…