Thursday, January 21, 2010

Surfing Nightlife Cuba.

Carlos could be a doctor, and engineer or an accountant, instead he chose to be “Johnny”. He grew up in a family where surviving was the word daily mentioned. He didn’t know about comfort, a nice pair of jeans and holidays in Varadero. They were three brothers and a sister, living in a small little room no more bigger that 4 metres squares and with his mother in charge of the family: no father figure, he didn’t know his father. Surfing Nightlife Cuba

At school, Carlos was smart and a good catcher sort of speak, but as soon he discovered that girls were fond of him, math, grammar and history was left behind. It was the beginnings of his life as “Johnny”. The nickname came as result of his American kind of look: blond, blues eyes, tall and fit. Something absolutely unusual in a country that is a rainbow of races. His brothers and sister were completely different to him, but he never took account of that. As a matter of fact, he always thought he was different.

At the end, high school was a line up of girls and pretty faces, and when he reached eighteen he thought that what Mother Nature gave it to him he could make a good use of it. Life was hard and he had to endure, but it couldn’t be in that way if he will make a good use of his charms. So, here you are, one day he left his tiny little cave with his older brother to go to catch a “Yuma” (slang for tourist in Cuba) whoever could be found. He was a fast runner.

After a few weeks, his name was changed to “Johnny” and his old pants were thrown into the garbage bin. His star was raised forever and the old Carlos with nice young Cuban girls never came back. He was particularly successful with Spanish, Canadians and Italians, women and men, even when he always declared himself as heterosexual, but he wasn’t afraid to refuse anyone, especially when in occasions the competency became tough and few tourist could be found in Havana.

His succeed let him also to leave his family. Under any circumstance he would five up what so hard he was earning in his daily struggle with life. On and on, his mother particularly requested him to share his money with his other siblings, who at that moment were also drawn into the same “business”, but with not too much success. Johnny decided to escape forever from the trap.

But he didn’t have to be worry too much. It was just occasionally when he found himself in his old little house in Centre Havana. In daily basis Johnny could be found in Varadero, or with a group of Spanish girls in a house in Miramar, or with a Canadian couple travelling Cuba. But every time when he returned from those trips he found the bitterly life his family was living there: fights, jealousy and envy. A life filled with insecurities and fear for the future. Johnny decided to do whatever he could to leave that life forever.

Since then, he tried more harder to find something more secure, what it means, someone who pay him for all his expenses, someone who could give him a life in Heaven. To the height of that time, he already had regular customers in “his business”, but he needed someone who could be the real deal in his life: his lottery ticket.

Day and night you could find Johnny in “La Cecilia”, or in the night club in Melia Cohiba in Havana, or even in the exclusive Marina Hemingway with some “friends”, mostly girls, but at that time, he didn’t care if it was a girl, or a group of them or a man. In fact, he found out that men paid better than women, and his philosophy was also not to look back, just get it done. One year in his personal battle paid off: he found his gold mine.

Today, Johnny is living in Miramar where his partner bought an apartment for them. He is driving a nice Nissan who belongs to his dear friend: a Spanish fellow who has partnership with some Cuban institution. A credit card to his expenses, cash in his pockets, a cellular phone hung in his belt, expensive clothes and perfumes, and a life floating in the clouds. He doesn’t care what his friend is doing in Cuba, and what his businesses are with Cuba’s government. When he goes with him to any dinner or party, he tries very hard to show off he is a nephew of the charming guy, not his lover, even when everybody smiles and understands the meanings of his relations. But for him, he is living the Communism.

His life is the living dream for many of our citizens. He is not a doctor, he is not an engineer and he is not an accountant. In fact, he is nobody with the highest standard of life that you could ever image in Cuba. When his “friend” is not in Havana, he is hanging out with a pair of girls around the city. He never works, someone hired by his partner cleans and sometimes prepares dinner for him and his guests, when he is at home. But for the majority of his time, he is enjoying his life around Cuba.

Every single door is open to him, because every single door is open with a dollar bill in Cuba. No matter you need, you only need to show the money and whatever you ask you get it. In the other hands, his partner knows he is not alone, and he encourage him to do it with no consequence, because he knows Johnny is not going to leave him. After all, he is his winning ticket to Heaven.

An afterword about his family: he cut all his tights with them. Today, he doesn’t know anything about their whereabouts, he never call them. Since he was eighteen he made his promises to leave that little cave of mice, and he stand by.