‘I need to leave’: Cuba’s tourism workers reel from US oil blockade

Havana, Cuba– In Havana’s Parque Central, a 19th-century square in the old city, taxi driver Rainier Hernandez stands next to his bubblegum-pink 1951 Chevrolet Deluxe, scanning hopefully for tourists.

The custom convertible was once popular with the millions of visitors who used to flow into Cuba every year.

Hernandez, 38, used to work upwards of six hours a day ferrying tourists around the city, but since the United States imposed a de facto oil blockade on Cuba in January, he is lucky to get one or two hours of paid work in a day.

“The impact of the blockade right now is a horrible thing that no Cuban had expected,” Hernandez said. “For us, the workers, we have a lot to lose, because we eat and live off of [tourism].”

For decades, tourism was a pillar of Cuba’s economy. At its height in the late 2010s, nearly 12 percent of the country’s gross domestic product (GDP) came from travel-related sectors.

But that economic momentum has sputtered in recent years, a trend accelerated by a recent spike in tensions between the US and Cuba.

From January to November last year, the island received only 1.6 million tourists, a staggering drop from its 2018 peak of 4.8 million.

That has left the Cubans who rely on tourism for their livelihoods uncertain about their future on the island, as they struggle to afford necessities.

“If there is no tourism, there is no economy,” said Carlos Fariñas, a 29-year-old tour guide who is among those considering whether to leave.

‘Everybody’s scared’

Jonathan Garcia, a hotel concierge, still remembers the moment when this year’s outlook went from bad to worse.

Cuba’s tourism industry had already suffered a series of blows since its 2018 peak. For instance, in 2019, Donald Trump took measures during his first term as US president to weaken Cuba’s tourism sector.

They included a ban on US cruises to Cuba and new restrictions that prevented Europeans visiting Cuba from enjoying visa-free travel to the US.

Then came the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, which also prompted a downturn in visits.

But Garcia said that January 3 marked a turning point. On that day, the Trump administration authorised a military operation to abduct and imprison Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro.

Ever since, Trump has repeatedly warned that Cuba could face similar action against its government. He has also blocked Venezuelan oil shipments to the island and threatened tariffs on any country exporting fuel to the island.

Fearing what might happen, many visitors to Garcia’s hotel cancelled their bookings. Some emailed to express fear that the US might bomb Cuba, while others were spooked by news stories about fuel shortages and blackouts.

“Everybody’s scared,” Garcia said. “One day, we had a lot of reservations, and after the Venezuela thing, immediately we could see the effects of it.”

Garcia’s hotel has had to lay off half of its staff since the oil blockade was announced on January 29. Guests have stopped coming. The remaining workers are constantly on edge: “You always think that you are at risk of losing your job.”

Meanwhile, the country has suffered two island-wide blackouts. Several airlines have suspended routes to Cuba, citing the lack of fuel on the island as a risk for return flights.

Today, Havana’s key tourist hotspots appear abandoned. In the old city, waiters mill around as chairs sit empty at bars and restaurants. Workers in deserted luxury malls built for tourists gaze emptily out of shopfront windows.

‘Transport is so expensive’

Farinas, one of the local tour guides, said he used to work two days a week escorting groups of up to 15 people around Havana.

Now, he says he averages one tour every two or three weeks. Sometimes, his groups consist of just two people.

While the walking tours are free, Farinas used to be able to count on $10 to $20 in tips per person. Today, he struggles to make ends meet.

It’s difficult for him to even reach the historic centre of the capital. The oil blockade has pushed petrol prices up to $12 per litre ($45.36 per gallon) and led the government to cancel nearly all public transport options.

Farinas, who lives with his 91-year-old grandmother on the outskirts of Havana, must pay more than double his usual rate for transport into the city centre.

“[The blockade] affects me in terms of transport and mobility. Transport prices have risen. Right now, as much as I would like to, I can’t come into Havana every day to look for work because transport is so expensive,” explains Carlos.

His mother left Cuba in 2010 in search of a better life. While she continues to support the family, Farinas must take care of his ailing grandmother, who suffers from diabetes and high blood pressure.

“Before I could allow myself some luxuries. Now, I can’t,” says Farinas.

But he says he is grateful to have the security of a house to live in. For others, the collapse of the tourism industry could cost them the very roof over their heads.

‘I would die of hunger’

Alejandro Ricardo, 26, has been managing an Airbnb in the leafy Vedado neighbourhood for four years. The Art Deco house is within walking distance of key tourist sites, like the Plaza de la Revolucion and the Cristobal Colon Cemetery.

In the past, Ricardo used to host guests who travelled from the US, Europe and even Sri Lanka. He would make breakfast, recommend destinations and keep the house in order.

“They were very good years … We had an 80-percent occupancy rate in the house at all times,” says Ricardo. “[The guests] always talked with me, we shared stories, and I made a lot of friends that way, too.

But now, the house’s eight bedrooms sit empty. With no guests to welcome, Ricardo has moved all the outdoor furniture inside, stacking chairs and tables in the front room away from the sun and rain.

He began noticing the decline in tourism last July, nearly six months after Trump took office for a second term.

That year, Trump had returned Cuba to a list of “state sponsors of terrorism”, and in late June, he re-imposed sanctions from his first term.

By October, Ricardo said there were no longer any reservations. That has left Ricardo in a precarious position.

The property’s owners live abroad, entrusting Ricardo with its care and allowing him to live there for free.

In Cuba, many people live in multi-generational family houses, with the domestic rental market largely non-existent. But Ricardo’s family sold their house when his mother moved abroad, leaving him dependent on his tourism job to keep a roof over his head.

As with many Cubans working in the tourism industry, Ricardo is only paid when there are clients.

He managed to get by for a few months, living off his savings and the few reservations that came through, most recently a pair of US missionaries bringing aid to Cuba.

But when the situation worsened in January, Ricardo stopped holding out hope that tourism would return. Instead, he began to drive passengers on his electric motorbike.

While he is able to make ends meet, Ricardo’s biggest fear is that the owners of the house will sell it amid the grave outlook for Cuba’s tourism industry, leaving him with nowhere to live: “It’s a constant worry.”

As the tourism sector tanks, Ricardo, who studied to be an accountant, believes his only chance of a better life is abroad. “My future is in another country. I need to leave,” he said.

While he once thrived during the golden age of tourism in Cuba, Ricardo sees little chance that things will go back to how they were.

“If I were to wait for tourists to come, I would die of hunger.”