I am both idealist and realist. For there is no point in ideals if they cannot be realised.
Jacob (Jake) Barrie Gordon

Jake Gordon

Cuban Prostitutes

22 August 2003

Well, I’ve now been to Cuba and now I’m in Monterrey back in Mexico visiting Marcela. Quite a bit to say.

Cuba was… interesting. Not particularly fun, but then I was only staying in Havana for three nights, so I didn’t really get to see the whole country by any means. First impression? Well, coming into the airport there were TVs showing Fidel Castro giving a speech… so that was quite typical. Then going in the taxi into town there were basically no adverts whatsoever - apart from, that is, adverts against neoliberal globalization, capitalism etc., and pro communism and everything to do with it. I went to a Casa Particulare when I got there, where you stay with a family, kind of guest house, but the one I wanted to stay with was full. They recommended another cheap (in Cuban terms, at $15) to me, so I went there. Seemed okay, and met a guy called Hash there from Autralia who was going home the next morning. We went around town and there were prostitutes all over the place. I asked one nice lady for directions, and of course she was sure I wanted her other, ehem, services. ‘Nervioso?’ - no, I wasn’t bloody nervous, I just didn’t particularly want to jump into bed with her and pay for the privilege!

Anyway, most guys I’ve met who’ve been to Cuba seem to have gone with prostitutes there. Including Hash, who was telling me the ins and outs of getting with them. Apparently there are three types. There are those you pay straight out. Then there are those you don’t pay at all, but just kind of go out with you for a few days. Then there are those that you buy drinks for etc. Doesn’t make it any different though - its still prostitution and there was no getting me in bed with one of them!

Anyway, yeah, so the next thing I was back in the Casa with Hash and we were gonna go out again to get some drinks when these two young women started having a fight on the stairs. Screaming and shouting, and we couldn’t get past them to get out so we just waited. Then it seemed to get worse and louder, real shrills coming from them. Quite a few people down there. Then some guy, one of the brothers who lived in the house, came upstairs bleeding and bruised and locked himself in a room. Then another brother came up in a similar state.

Crap, ran out of time… finish this in a few days! Stay tuned


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by Jake Gordon, some rights reserved