100 Places in Cuba Every Woman Should Go. Conner Gorry
to the orishas, including the Bosque de la Habana in Parque Almendares, La Puntilla in Miramar, and along the coast at 1ra and 36A, also in Miramar. Folks walking around town toting chickens or baby goats are on their way to make their offerings.
According to Cuba’s syncretized nomenclature, Saint Barbara is Yemayá, while Saint Lazarus is Babalú Ayé. The best place to learn about how this all works is the Asociación Yoruba de Cuba, a museum and cultural center dedicated to Afro-Cuban religions. There are altars to each orisha explaining a bit of the creation myths behind each, with which Catholic saint they are related, and what offerings they prefer and why. You can hire a guide (likely only Spanish-speaking) at the museum and they have regular tambores, drum ceremonies, where it’s not uncommon for a practitioner to fall into trance and start speaking in tongues. A visit to this museum gives a great overview of the religions and is complemented well by a visit to the black Virgin housed in the Iglesia de Nuestra Señora in Regla. You can have your shells read here and buy flowers to offer to the virgin, who represents Yemayá in the Afro-Cuban canon. Another opportunity to see the mixture of beliefs as they play out in the Cuban context is to join the pilgrimage to El Rincón each December 17th, Saint Lazarus day. On the orishas’ holy days—June 29 (Oggun), September 7 (Yemayá), 8 (Oshun), and 24 (Obatalá)—there are ceremonies, known as toques del santo all over town. The syncopated drumming is hypnotic and runs all night long on these days; you can only enter if you are specifically invited. If you receive an invitation, take it.
WEALTHY LANDOWNERS—GROWING COFFEE, TOBACCO, AND sugar, primarily—saw the writing on the wall and had already begun supplementing slave labor with cheap workers from abroad when the trade was officially abolished in 1867. The first wave was Maya from the Yucatán, followed by a huge influx of Chinese—some 130,000 arrived on Cuban shores in the 20-year period between 1853 and 1874. This so-called “coolie trade” was hardly more humane than the slave trade from Africa it replaced, and Chinese laborers were treated like chattel on the sugar plantations, but over time, a unique miscegenation emerged that today reaches beyond Cuba’s borders. If you’ve ever eaten at a Chinese-Cuban restaurant (New York and Miami are full of them), it’s a result of this centuries-old mixture. Slowly but surely, Chinese immigrants assimilated into Cuban society, mingling with freed blacks and Creoles (those of Spanish heritage born in Cuba) creating a new ethnic mix. Anyone with eyes even slightly almond-shaped is nicknamed “chino” here, something that fiercely irks foreigners of other Asian origins when the 100th Cuban yells out “Hola chino!”
The Chinese in Cuba retained their traditions and culture to the extent that you’ll see groups of elders practicing Tai Chi in parks, kids taking martial arts classes in school yards, and big, multi-colored dragons snaking through the crowd at the annual May Day parade. In recent years, strengthened ties between Cuba and China have led to a wave of Chinese specialists working on engineering, mining, and other projects and thousands of Chinese students matriculating at Cuban universities.
The first stop for getting a glimpse at Cuba’s Chinese community is Barrio Chino—Chinatown. In the preface to Barrio Chino de la Habana: Imagen del Tiempo, by Italian photographer Giuseppe Lo Bartolo, Cuban writer Jaime Saruski gets right to the point: “forget everything by way of comparisons with other Chinese communities such as that of Vancouver, South East Asia, of Latin America and the Chinatowns of San Francisco and New York. If you don’t, you will lose yourself in a labyrinth of questions without answers.” In other words: manage expectations, keep an open mind, and you’ll be pleasantly surprised.
The official entrance to Havana’s Chinatown is at the intersection of Dragones and Galeano streets and is heralded with a spectacular green and red gate, which belies how small the neighborhood is (many Chinese Cubans left in the 1960s, once the socialist bent of the revolution was confirmed). Indeed, most activity swirls around the “Cuchillo,” literally the “knife,” an alley jammed with Chinese-Cuban restaurants employing aggressive barkers waving menus in the face of all passersby. But brave the gauntlet and meander around the adjacent streets where there are Chinese associations and social clubs, the Chinese newspaper Kwong Wah Po, and elders playing Mah Jong instead of dominoes. Another anomaly of the Chinese community in Havana is the Cementerio Chino, a dedicated cemetery for the Chinese community where the mausoleums are mini-pagodas and the epitaphs are in Chinese. It was restored recently and makes for a great photo session. If you’re craving good, authentic Chinese food while in Havana, a former resident of Shanghai swears by Tin Hao, far from Chinatown, at San Lázaro and Hospital streets.
I HAVE BIASES—WE ALL DO, those who claim they don’t are in denial. My personal bias (one of them anyway) is to recommend and patronize women-owned businesses whenever possible. My default for spending my hard-earned money extends to any business owned by society’s more vulnerable, including women and people of color, as well as any business pursuing an ethical, sustainable, and environmental agenda. While ethical and sustainable businesses are slow to take in Cuba’s sluggish economy where the bottom line is top priority and Cubans of color are under-represented in the entrepreneurial class, women are a primal force in the private sector; according to the latest statistics, 32 percent of private workers are women. The creativity and drive of Cuban women is evident everywhere you look—at home, work, in the street, and at play. If you’ve ever shared a meal cooked by a Cuban mom, you know they are magicians, inventing a delicious spread on a shoestring budget with minimal ingredients. When combined with a high-quality product or service, this thrift and savvy is what sets Cuban businesswomen apart.
Two places making their mark on the new economy are Clandestina and Pisco Labis, in Habana Vieja. For wholly original, handmade Cuban clothes, crafts, home accessories, and more, these boutiques are obligatory. Clandestina, with its motto “99% Cuban Designs” (according to the owners, 99 percent is more marketable and memorable than 100 percent), gained overnight fame after President Obama bought t-shirts for his daughters there. At $30CUC each, it’s not a place many Cubans can afford to shop, but for unique souvenirs, it’s worth making a special trip. Pisco Labis, meanwhile, is a cool collective of more than a dozen Cuban craftspeople where upcycled wine bottles are made into chandeliers, old jeans are transformed into fashionable A-line dresses, and candle stubs are repurposed into scented pillars. There’s a relaxed vibe here, allowing you to browse the two floors of merchandise at your leisure.
On the gastronomic side, Café Bahia, a block from the Cira García Hospital in Playa, is a guaranteed good meal no matter if you opt for the ceviche, fish of the day, or shrimp tacos. The maritime theme is simple, yet elegant and the outdoor deck shaded with a sail is a lovely perch to enjoy an ice cold lemonade or Cristal. Another simple place that excels at what they do is the Burner Brothers pastry shop (Calle C #719). Rather than two brothers, it’s actually a brother-sister team, with mom pitching in; Tony and Sandra taught themselves to bake, burning many of their first batches in the process (hence the name). Here you can try Havana’s best brownie, chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin cookies, mini-cheesecakes, blue cheese tarts, and other inventive delicacies. I won’t temper my assessment of Dulce’s Nancy with any wishy-washy language: there is simply no better cake to be had in the city than those that come from Nancy’s kitchen tucked away in a lush garden festooned with orchids. There’s no storefront, you just have to know she’s there, baking her heart out (Hidalgo #8 between Calle 2 and 4, accessed off the Plaza de la Revolución); tell her Conner sent you.
If you want to shed calories after so many sweets, there’s no better way than a bicycle tour with Vélo Cuba, a women-owned and operated bike shop. They have multi-lingual guides, rent bikes and do repairs. When you’re ready to be pampered, O2 Club tucked into a privileged corner of Nuevo Vedado, offers a full menu of manicures, facials, and massages provided in clean, modern facilities. Twin sisters Omara and Odalys (O2, get it?) founded this space in 2012 as a straight ahead spa; it has since grown into a multi-service center