[PAPAROACH]

My last visit to this socialist Caribbean island two years ago had been emotionally draining. It had forced me to examine my own beliefs and values.
I remember being so overwhelmed by the sheer humanity of the place that I had spent months afterwards questioning the meaning of my own life. Everything and everyone there had touched a part of my soul. Cuba does that to you, and I was not ready for another assault on my psyche.

So when I decided to accept the offer, I told myself that I would try to remain neutral, to keep my distance. I didn’t want to be seduced again.

Of course, with Cubans that is virtually impossible. At the Cuban embassy in Nairobi, the Cuban woman who handed me my visa put her arm around me and almost hugged me as if we were long-lost friends. (If you are a Kenyan who has applied for a visa, especially to Europe or the US, this warmth can be a bit unnerving because we are so used to being humiliated and ignored.)

Cubans are not afraid to touch or look you in the eye. There is no reserve, no emotional distance, no holding back. As travel writer Christopher B. Baker notes, "Cubans lack the social caste system that makes so many Europeans walk on eggshells." There are no signs of deference or subservience either. In which other country would a hotel doorman offer a guest half of the chocolate he was eating? Well, it happened to me.

Cuba also lacks the racial tension that is so prevalent in countries that were built on slavery. Racism seems inappropriate in a country that is 51 per cent multiracial and 11 per cent black. Also, by replacing the social structures that allowed racism to exist, Fidel Castro’s revolution has made it impossible for any group to be relegated to racial servitude. In fact, Afro-Cubans are far healthier, better educated and more skilled than most blacks in Brazil, Colombia, Panama, Jamaica or the US.

The problem with Cuba is that it defies all stereotypes. Many of my fellow bursary recipients who had no sympathy for socialism or for Cuba before the trip left the country puzzled. "I thought Cuba would be like former communist countries in Europe," said the Ghanaian architect who had studied in the former Soviet Union and now worked in South Africa. "All grey and dull, people not smiling or laughing. I didn’t expect this."

First-time visitors to Cuba are often amazed at the gaiety and sense of humour of the Cuban people. There is none of that stoic seriousness of once communist countries in Eastern Europe or Russia. Physical beauty is revered and both Cuban men and women flaunt theirs without appearing vain or self-conscious.

Four decades of socialism has not affected the chutzpah or sensuality of the people. As a character in Pico Lyer’s novel Cuba and the Night remarked, "If there is anywhere that’s crazy and passionate and reckless enough to make a revolution work, it is here."

Havana lacks the stateliness of capital cities. Although it has many unique architectural treasures, there are no statues of Castro dominating the streets. The only heroes that are allowed to be worshipped are the dead ones, such as the Argentinean revolutionary Che Guevara or Jose Marti, Cuba’s independence hero.

Salsa music with its lyrics of passion, love and longing, permeates the hot and humid air. Cubans love to be in love. The Malecon, the city’s picturesque seafront promenade, becomes a lovers’ rendezvous every evening. Couples of all ages are to found here, hugging, kissing, enjoying the sea breeze.

Although organised religion is not encouraged, most Cubans follow a unique blend of African animist beliefs and Catholicism known as Santeria, in which both Catholic saints and Yoruba deities are worshipped.

Because of its apparent contradictions, it is hard to tell whether Cuba is Cuba because of the revolution or despite it.

On the eve of the 1959 revolution, Cuba was a semi-developed country with huge social and economic disparities. Under the leadership of Fulgencio Batista, a right-wing military dictator, the Cuban economy was placed largely in the hands of foreigners, mainly US transnationals. Cuba’s sandy beaches and cities such as Havana were the playing grounds of American and European millionaires. The peasantry in the countryside remained semi-literate and poor. Only 2 per cent of the rural population had piped water. Almost half the population had never been to school.

The revolution, led by Fidel Castro, Che Guevara and a handful of guerrillas, significantly improved the living conditions of millions of Cubans. Castro introduced agrarian reform and distributed agricultural land to the peasants. Urban shantytowns disappeared. The state ensured that everyone had access to housing. Health care and education were made available to all for free. Every Cuban, from the doctor to the waiter, became a civil servant. Even musicians received a monthly salary from the state. All foreign companies were nationalised. Free enterprise was abolished.

As Madame Mitterand, widow of the late French President, remarked, Castro succeeded in creating a society free of "the dictatorship of money." These policies led the US to impose a trade embargo on the country, which is in force even today.

Cuba, a country with few natural resources apart from sugar and tobacco, turned to the Soviet Union to sustain its revolution. With Soviet assistance, Cuba became one of the most egalitarian societies on earth. Free education and health care made it one of the most literate and healthy countries in the region – a place once described by former US Attorney General Ramsey Clark, as "a model that the rest of the world needs desperately."

Cuba’s ambitions of creating a "heaven on earth" began to suffer major setbacks after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1989. Export earnings dropped by 60 per cent, imports by 70 per cent. The government was forced to introduce tight rationing of food, energy and consumer goods. Some economic controls were relaxed. Tourism received a new impetus and joint ventures were established with European companies.

However, signs of the US trade embargo and withdrawal of Soviet aid are beginning to show. Many buildings are dilapidated and there is an acute scarcity of imported goods. Rationing means that Cuba’s 11 million citizens have access to only the basics.

Despite their isolation, most Cubans are acutely aware that things are not the way they should be. That their perfect society is beginning to crumble. A Cuban I met described his country as "salsa," (which means sauce or gravy in Spanish) – a superficial society that hides its true contents underneath.

When I asked him if he was aware that many nations in the world, particularly in Africa, looked up to Cuba, he quipped, "Everyone loves Cuba – from a distance. It’s fashionable. But no-one wants to live here and pay the price of being Cuban."

But many Cubans will defend their way of life as being the most just and humane society in the world, despite the Western world’s obsession with its lack of press freedom and its recent execution of hijackers. And they are probably right. Silvia, an architect whose father had returned to Cuba from Chicago in the 1960s, told me that she felt that it was the best decision he had made. "In the States, my father was just a slave, a hot dog vendor," she said.

"He came back to Cuba because he knew he would have a chance at a decent life. Look at me. I don’t have a car or a personal computer. I don’t have many things. But I have security. I have an education and even my teeth are taken care of by the government. What else do I need?"

Murmurs of Castro’s downfall are rife in Cuba. Castro’s mortality is an issue, considering he is 77 years old.

Some feel that the Cuban revolution has done its time and there is a need to move on. Others feel that without the charisma and devotion of Castro, Cuba will be tempted to join the global market economy.