LUCINDA:

The itinerary for the afternoon listed lunch and dominos with a local family in Guanabacoa, a neighborhood that, according to our driver, tourists never visit. Roads radiating from the town center have increasingly patchy asphalt and potholes, lack sidewalks, are lined with open trash, and run beside streams choked with debris. Beyond a small courtyard on a partial dirt road stood a one-story home with comfortable yet modest furnishings, including a small TV and a corded landline phone. Our hosts were gracious and welcoming including two grown daughters who lived with their parents—a common practice in Cuba. When asked, one of the daughters wearing a stethoscope necklace admitted that the doctorate degree on the wall from the University of Havana was hers, and that she was an anesthesiologist at the large hospital in Havana. (Her sister’s communication degree was on the opposite wall.) She shared how she relies on friends and family in Spain to bring medication to Cuba in suitcases a couple times a year to deal with the nation-wide medication shortages.

In the US, individuals with advanced degrees like these sisters would likely earn top salaries and be expected to live independently in upper-middle class neighborhoods with high-end transportation. Instead, both women ride motorized scooters to commute to Havana for work and earn a state salary of 4,500 pesos per month—equivalent to $170–$190 USD at the official exchange rate, but just $10–$15 USD on the domestic black market.