Young Cubans Yearn for More Material Comforts, Less Propaganda

By VANESSA ARRINGTON
Associated Press Writer

November 11, 2006

Cuba says Fidel Castro's revolution will last forever.

But the aging cadre of leaders who devoted their lives to building a communist utopia on this Caribbean island must eventually turn things over to new generations - and Cuba's young people don't seem to share their revolutionary zeal.

There is a profound disconnect between the world of this younger generation and the ideology they see in state media. After 47 years of rule by Fidel, many youths say that they are tired of politics, and that the official rhetoric doesn't match their reality.

They dream of less propaganda and more material comforts.

"We really hope things get better - it can't be like this forever," Israel Cuesta, 24, said of the country's economic situation.

Whether the handful of leaders filling in for the ailing 80-year-old Castro can surmount this apathy is among many questions facing Cuba.

Many young Cubans certainly embrace the current system, actively participating in the Communist Youth Union and responding to efforts by the government to nurture a new generation of leaders.

But others resist the formula. Free speech limits are among their sore points. Restricted Internet access generally is only available through government centers and universities, and Cubans risk fines and confiscation of equipment if they wire up illegal satellite dishes to watch MTV or CNN.

"I feel blind, and manipulated," said a 30-year-old who would identify himself only as Luis for fear of losing his job at a state-run art institute.

Cuba's focus on social equality and autonomy from the U.S. remains genuinely popular among youths. They appreciate the safety net that prevents most Cubans from going hungry or becoming homeless, as well as a sociable environment where strangers constantly interact and help each other. And they've inherited their parents' and grandparents' deep pride in being Cuban.

But what they want most seems to be change.

"I want more technology, to be somewhere that feels more advanced," said Tony, a 20-year-old music producer with long, gelled hair and a black leather bracelet with studs.

Like many young Cubans, he wouldn't reveal his last name, fearing retribution for speaking candidly. "I want to open my mind," he said.

While the elderly generation equates Castro's revolution with opportunity, younger people feel they lack options - and can't see how they will be able to make enough money to live well.

Younger Cubans can go to college for free, get full health care coverage and listen to world-class music concerts at tiny cost. But they also have little chance of renting or buying their own apartments, getting a car, or making more than $15 a month.

Cuesta, a dishwasher at a fancy Havana tourist hotel, vividly remembers the dramatic poverty of the island's "special period" in the 1990s, when the collapse of the Soviet Union and end to its subsidies plunged Cuba into economic crisis.

Bicycles replaced cars and Cubans became increasingly skinny as gasoline and food started to disappear. Salaries lost their value overnight. Power blackouts up to 16 hours a day were common.

"There was nothing," Cuesta said. "A lot of people just started falling apart financially. They were no longer the same."

The period translated into a "frustration of expectations" for Cuba's young people, said Damian Fernandez, a Cuban-American who heads the Cuban Research Institute at Miami's Florida International University. "The economic shortage, and that closure of opportunity, have clearly scarred this generation."

Cuesta said things are improving, but many of his friends have left Cuba anyway. "They want to acquire more things that are hard to come by here: like a color television, a DVD," he said.

Those fleeing reflect Cuba's generational split - 28 percent of the 2,150 Cubans repatriated in 2005 after being intercepted at sea were under 25 and the majority were aged 25-45, according to the U.S. Interests Section in Havana. Just 6 percent were older than 45.

"We all want to go to La Yuma," said 15-year-old Eduardo, using Cuban slang for the United States. "It's better there," he said, citing everything from higher pay to more amusement parks.

Younger Cubans have been increasingly exposed to the world's material cultures and alternative lifestyles since Cuba begrudgingly opened its doors to foreign tourists to pull the island out of its 1990s slump. Economic divisions also deepened on the island of 11 million people as tourism replaced sugar as Cuba's primary source of foreign income.

Now, while poorer youths play guitar near the Malecon seawall and dance reggaeton for hours in parks, others wear brand-name clothes and go to trendy music parties costing $5 - a third of the average monthly salary. These "Mickies" - a play on Mickey Mouse and superficiality - may be part of Cuba's small privileged class, or get money from foreigners or Cuban-American relatives.

More "alternative" groups gather on city streets or in nightclubs that charge $1. Their style includes mohawks, tattoos and body piercing, though plenty of expensive American sneakers and even a sleeveless David Beckham soccer jersey were seen recently at a basement techno music spot.

"Here you can really disconnect from all the pressure outside," said Luis, who has eyebrow piercings and bleached blond hair swooped up in a spike. "There's a lot of tolerance here in this basement."

Luis said he frequently gets harassed by police, but he also acknowledged that his rebellious peers can gather openly - a real change from decades past when long hair brought public rebukes and Cubans were sent to labor camps for being gay.

Still, Cuba has a long way to go, he said.

"We want freedom of expression, freedom to do what we want," he said. "And we want dollars."

Those dollars often come illegally, through working under the table and "jineterismo" - a Cuban term that translates as jockeying but can mean everything from getting a foreigner to buy you lunch to sleeping with one for money or gifts.

Prostitution and the exodus of young people concern the revolution's aging "true believers."

"They want whatever they feel they can't get here - if they have five, they want 10," said Reinalda Diaz Rojas, 83. "Old people, well we're more content with what we have. And we feel we have our country to thank."

Those who remember life under dictator Fulgencio Batista have more vivid fears about a return to capitalism. Diaz Rojas, a woman from a coastal village, credits Castro for opening doors that were closed before the 1959 revolution, allowing her to study in the capital and become a schoolteacher.

Many middle-age Cubans also hold faith in the current government model, partly because they experienced how good life could be in the 1980s when wages were more than sufficient under the rich support of the Soviet Union.

With Castro sidelined by illness, the possibility of change is in the air. Young Cubans say they hope the current collective leadership led by Castro's brother Raul will bring fewer rules and a more vibrant economy.

Those who want to stay on the island say they would be happy with even minor improvements.

"We just want to be more free," said Yoansy Herbaz, 21.

"And," he added with a smile, "for prices for the discotheques to go down."