The Cuban Rise in Technology
When I arrived in Cuba, it was 2015 and wi-fi had just been recently introduced to Havana. And by recently, I mean that just three weeks earlier, hotspots were designated to areas around the city. Parks and small squares were suddenly equiped with this invisible, magical internet connection. Nor was this wi-fi free; Cubans paid per the hour for each upload and download, each check of a newly created Facebook account was billed. Even so, people — tourists and locals alike — crowded in these areas to participate in this new Cuban commodity.
Before then, internet was available, but through channels Americans might consider old fashioned. Libraries and office workspaces offered ethernet connections, some private homes as well, but it was expensive and thus, a luxury for the wealthy.
Many Cubans could not afford what many consider a necessity. The introduction of wi-fi an immediate success.
As other students and I used these hotspots to communicate with our families, check our Facebooks or Instagrams, perhaps to shoot off the occasional tweet with the ease of years of practice, Cubans were just discovering these technologies. One woman came to us, phone in hand, as we scrolled through pictures and status updates. “Can you help me set up a Facebook?” she asked.
It was surreal. I had become accustomed to the World Wide Web, so much so that it had never occurred to me what discovering it for the first time might mean. Here was a middle-aged woman, clutching a brand new iPhone 4 (likely smuggled in from Miami) asking for help setting up a social media account for a network which I had been using since I was 13. If she ever wanted to check that account, she would have to come right back here to this hotspot in the middle of the park, or one just like it, and pay to see her Facebook.
In the U.S., citizens do this for free and virtually anywhere. Just go to your nearest Starbucks and free wi-fi is available. Walk the streets and you may just pick up a connection.
The easy access to internet has led to more than a few cultural changes in a relatively short time. The ability to access YouTube has led to an evolution in the music scene. Cuba’s younger generation has latched unto alternative music and slam poetry, finding an afinity with the beats and lyrics that speak of social change and the complexities of being a young adult in contemporary society.
The ability to watch sport videos, as well, has, in part, led to changes in athletic’s popularity amongst young boys, in particular. Rather than admiring baseball stars (like Fidel Castro himself), soccer has become a national past-time in Cuba. Better access to television and the internet has allowed Cubans to view the soccer stars of Spain. As Real Madrid and FC Barcelona battle it out, Cuban youth pull away from the mostly American-dominated baseball scene. In the barrios and side streets, young boys and girls with broken-in balls juggle and dive, adding to the rhythm of the streets as the balls bounce against sidewalks and fences.
Yet, the encroachment of the internet in public spaces is still in its youth. The aspects of Cuban culture which are formed around face-to-face communication are still alive and thriving, even in the hotspot areas.
“We do not have that kind of access [to internet] and never have, so there is no difference for us. We sit and we talk in public spaces.” Professor Vivian Antúnez from University of Havana, Cuba tells me.
Antúnes grew up in Havana, Cuba, not far from where we now sit, but she has recently returned from a trip to California where she gave talks at select universities about infrustructure changes and economics in this socialist country. She sits drinking a Cuban-made Cola in one of these crowded hotspot areas, surrounded by an amalgamation of people on their phones, others chatting with friends, and even some of Cuba’s youth, kicking around a soccer ball.
“People in California are on their phones,” She notes. “But in Cuba there’s more one-on-one communication.”
This is evident when you walk down the streets of Havana. People sit on their porches and talk, judging the heat and the passers-by alike. At restaurants, no one is on his or her phone—instead conversation fills out the silence before and after a meal.
Changes are arriving rapidly as Cuba tries to keep up with much of the rest of the world. The “land lost in time” is finally taking down some of the iron bars that held this socialist country back from becoming modernized. Those “lost in time” relics — the old cars, the unique architecture — are attractions to many tourists, and a novelty many would miss, making advancement a precarious situation. As a peer talks to a bookseller in the area, the seller voices these concerns.
“I do not want Cuba to change,” she laments. “Let us decide what to do with our lives. Let us decide what we need.”
There seems to be a contradiction in her speech, but her message is consistent with the general consensus of Cubans. Tourists are dictating the needs of Cuba, while the ideals of the actual residents are largely ignored.
Her sentiment recalls the difficulties that the last 50 years have had on many Cuban citizens. As such, wi-fi hotspots are not something that should be seen as arbitrary for the Cuban people. The rise in technology does not just mean that Cubans will be making Facebook pages. It shows an opportunity to open an entire world for the Cuban people and a loosening of a tight, governmental grasp on outside communication. It could mean new job opportunities like marketing and computer science…and it could mean travel outside of Cuba for its citizens.
The changes I saw in Cuba are only just beginning. With increasing tourism in Cuba due to the opening of relations between Cubans and the U.S., Cubans can expect bigger changes to come whether they desire them or not. Yes, maybe the land lost in time will not be so lost as before. But Cuba is always filled with unique and exciting possibilities for the future.
