Piracy and Human Ingenuity: Life Outside the System

Anyone who thinks there's no free enterprise in Cuba has obviously never been here, or has never figured out how much of the movement of business is actually outside the laws and the system. There is an entire world of illegal business here, and Cuba is living testimony that humans will always find a way to live better, regardless of how tightly any system tries to control them. Just ask yourself how 1950s Chevys could still be running under an embargo that has kept out all replacement parts for almost 50 years, and it becomes clear that Cubans are imaginative, resourceful people. No system on earth can crush that; as an old friend in Costa Rica used to tell me, necessity breeds extraordinary levels of creativity.

Every Cuban wants and needs divisa, the currency most markets run on now. With state salaries in Cuban pesos and with an average salary of 350 c.p. per month in most fields ($14), making money outside of official jobs becomes a necessity, not a luxury. Certainly some Cubans are more fortunate, receiving part of their salaries in divisa or having significantly higher salaries over all, and those who receive help from family abroad do significantly better. But most Cubans simply can't provide for themselves or their families within the system, much less enjoy an evening out or travel within their own country for pleasure. For example, my friend Consuelo made quite a decent salary as a 9th grade teacher, and after 40 years that salary reached 850 c.p. monthly ($34). Combined with her husband's salary as a university professor, they did pretty well. But after her husband died four years ago and the state demanded that teachers teach across all disciplines through 9th grade, she retired to a pension of 230 c.p. (just over $9). When I asked why she didn't take private students, she began by citing the laws against it--and then admitted that the real problem was having too big a heart to charge students who are just as poor as she is.

But most Cubans have little difficulty finding ways to make money outside their official salaries without hurting anyone but the state itself. A lot of people take second and third illegal jobs; an electrician might work for the state during the week but spend his weekends repairing wiring in private homes for money under the table. Farmers sell some of their produce to the state, but sell the rest illegally along the highways. Illegal paladares, homes where Cubans cook and sell meals to tourists, became so common in the economic devastation of the 1990s that the state ended up taking them over; now, any Cuban who serves food to a foreigner in her kitchen has to pay the state for the right to do so. But many paladares remain outside the system--and believe me, some of the best meals I've had here have been in illegal kitchens.

Other Cubans turn their front rooms into stores and cafeterias; all it takes is a small sign outside the door, taken down the moment food or merchandise runs out. I have one friend who sells pizza makings to a state restaurant. The makings are stolen out of the state factories by workers desperate to make extra money, and those who run the restaurants are glad to buy illegally because they can make far more money if they have ingredients beyond what the state provides. One of my favorite memories from Matanzas was seeing a Cuban man showing furniture for sale on a street corner--he had a photo album marked with prices and a pile of home-made business cards, and he was surrounded by a crowd of Cubans anxious to get decent furniture at a far better price than they'd find in state stores.

And this really is the key--not only do the thieves and vendors of contraband goods benefit, but they save other Cubans money as well and help to elevate the standard of living for nearly everyone here. I first became aware of the way the black market benefits Cubans across a vast network when a friend took me inside the workings of the illegal tobacco industry in La Habana. In a small, dirty kitchen in a tiny cement-block apartment, three men cut and rolled cigars with the skill and speed of those trained inside the great factories of Cuba. They are all ex-employees, now supplied by old friends still holding their official jobs. Everything they work with has been stolen from the state, from the tobacco itself, piled all over the floor of their kitchen, to the press pieces, brand rings to identify the types, official state certifications and even boxes to sell them in (the boxes, they told me, are stolen by several managers at the factories--the theft is seriously widespread). Everyone makes something, even the Cuban who's able to enjoy a cigar once in a while at a black market price that's under one tenth of the market value. The same thing happens in coffee factories--it happens in every sector of society. When one Cuban has access to cable television because of his job or social position, he splices the line himself and sells cable to his neighbors. And everyone benefits--everyone but the state itself.

I finally asked how all this could be allowed to happen; it started to sound too much like an easy version of Robin Hood without an effective villian, and it seemed too good to be true. One friend said he didn't think the state honestly COULD control it more than they were doing currently because they had so many social issues to stay on top of. Another friend said the state has effectively crushed a LOT of behavior in Cubans--just look at the extremely low rates of drug use, violence and prostitution, and it's clear they can control whatever they want to. This friend believes the state puts up with a fair amount of black market industry because a significant majority of Cubans live better because of it, and crushing these networks would completely strangle Cubans, perhaps even lead to an uprising. More likely, in my opinion, is that inspectors and other officials who catch people in the act are easily bribed into not giving fines or shutting down illegal businesses--so they have something to gain from its continuation, too.

Tonight we ate a delicious pasta dinner in my family's home. The pasta itself came from the state as part of Ana's rations, but the cheese was bought from a neighbor who makes it herself, and the tomato sauce, ham and sausage were stolen from a pizza factory for resale. We ate well tonight in Cuba because outside the system lives another system, filled with the ingenuity which springs from human need. Perhaps there is human greed involved as well; after all, Cubans enjoy trinkets and tvs and other small luxuries like anyone does. And maybe Caridad is right that humans don't need everything they want, but it may also be true that humans deserve to have a few things they don't need for mere survival. Humans enjoy spending on small pleasures wherever they have the capacity to do so, and in Cuba they all live a little better because illegal activity provides higher income and lower prices. And maybe Micha's French professor was right, too, when he said that enjoying a cold beer, taking your girlfriend out dancing once in a while or being able to explore your own country is a human right, not a priviledge.