On Being a White “Cuban”

By Carlos Martinez, Cuba: Culture & Society, Summer 2013

It’s an interesting phenomenon. Walking the streets of Cuba among a group of Americans and feeling both connected yet aloof. I am American. I was born in America, but the prevailing white hegemony in the States constantly reminds me that I am not the traditional American.

I am a racial minority and although I take great pride in my Puerto Rican heritage, I also recognize the stigma inherently associated with my identity in the States. As Langston Hughes put it, “I am the darker brother.”

But here, things are different. I am no longer a minority. My phenotypical profile and Caribbean Spanish accent lets me pass for Cuban, making me a member of the majority. Moreover, my complexion and fine hair let me pass as a white Cuban.

There are plenty of perks. I get around with ease and benefit from Cuban rates. For example, I pay less than my fellow Americans to get into nightclubs, to take a taxi or to get a haircut. I can enter spaces and avoid being immediately associated with wealth, a common Cuban perception of foreigners.

That is not to say that white Americans lose every aspect of privilege in this country. Though they are expected to pay more for products and services, they still benefit from their whiteness in ways that African Americans and Afro-Cubans do not. For one, they are able to enter high end establishments casually. They also receive greater attention from locals, which can serve as both an advantage and a disadvantage at times.

Without a doubt, race plays a role in your social interactions and development here. Through coursework and personal relationships, I have come to understand that being black in Cuba limits you in many ways.

In Cuba, it is legal for an officer to stop you in public and demand to see your identification, which Cubans are expected to carry at all times. If you are caught without your ID, the consequence, more often than not, is a night in jail. That being said, it is more likely for you to be stopped if you are Afro-Cuban. A friend of ours said, “They do it to taunt you.”

Moreover, if an Afro-Cuban is walking among a group of white foreigners, it is more likely that he or she will be stopped. Officers want to make sure the individual isn’t “bothering” the white tourists. A few of our Afro-Cuban friends have expressed to us their slight discomfort when walking with our entire group, particularly at night.

Afro-Cubans are also at a disadvantage in the workforce, particularly within the tourist economy. After the fall of the Soviet Union, Cuba opened itself up to tourism and started to circulate two currencies: the Cuban peso (25 Cuban pesos are equivalent to 1 USD) and the CUC (1 CUC is worth approximately 1 USD). Employment within the tourist economy allowed Cubans to attain CUC and achieve social mobility within this socialist society. The issue, however, was that tourists preferred white Cubans over Afro-Cubans, making it significantly more difficult for blacks to receive these new, lucrative positions.

That being said, it should come as no surprise that as I roamed the streets of La Habana Vieja (Old Havana) I noticed that the most dilapidated streets were the ones with the darkest people. The vast majority of economic capital and political power is in the hands of white Cubans, but these issues aren’t exclusive to Cuba.

This entry is merely a reflection. My time here has granted me an opportunity to do something I seldom do: recognize my own privilege.