Cuba sí?
EDITOR'S NOTE
The cover of this issue makes me happy. A photograph of the Caribbean is about as close as I will get to a beach this winter, so I will stare longingly at that photo as the snow falls outside.
Being raised in temperate Victoria, B.C., I never understood the lure of the allinclusive resort package. It was a phenomenon that, if I thought about it at all, conjured images of laziness, excess and cultural ignorance. As a traveller, I looked down on this kind of tourism. What’s the point of going to a new country if all you are going to see is other tourists?
After moving to Toronto five years ago, though, I got it. By my first February, I was desperate to call a time out from the sub-zero temperatures. It took a few years to give in to that urge—made easier to justify by the fact that in my line of work holidays are few and far between, and difficult to afford. So, when last Christmas, my significant other and I booked a cheap and easy last-minute escape to Cuba, I was excited.
Once at the isolated resort, however, it took me two full days to shake off my discomfort. Being trapped in a summer camp for grown-ups was culture shocking, and I had a hard time sleeping at night—belly full of all-you-can-eat buffet fare—knowing the people serving me earned in a month what I spend on a movie at home.
But by day three, I calmed down and did what 600,000 Canadians do in Cuba each year—relaxed and enjoyed a week where the hardest decision I had to make was “ice cream or mojito?” and enjoyed every minute of it. After all, I had chosen Cuba—a country I had travelled in before—because of its socialism. At least, I reasoned, my dollars were helping the Revolution, and as far as I knew, Cubans, while poverty-stricken, all have enough to eat, unlike other tourism-reliant countries.
Cuba, though, is a study in contradictions. On my previous trip, I was told by my local host—in response to my obvious confusion trying to figure out the more troubling aspects of its system—that, “This is a country where no one has food, but everyone is fat—it’s best not to think too hard about this.” The words were wise, but one contradiction in particular stayed with me: the fact that Cuba’s socialist economy relies so heavily on the capitalist undertaking of tourism.
In our cover story, Maria Amuchastegui explores this relationship with an in-depth report into Cuba’s tourism industry. She finds that tourist dollars—while necessary for the Revolution’s survival—are having the unintended consequence of creating an elite new class in Cuba.
This is a travel issue of This Magazine, although the links may not all be obvious at first glance. Sara Minogue brings us an exposé of Journalists for Human Rights, a Toronto-based NGO established to facilitate human rights reporting in Africa. Many young Canadian journalists take advantage of its internship program as an opportunity to spend time abroad, to learn and do good. The reality, though, is that participants are often ill-prepared, and host organizations uncertain what to do with them.
Elsewhere in the issue, Brad Mackay brings us an in-depth report into the phenomenon of “cartoon reporting,” the trend of—often international—investigative journalism taking a graphic novel form and Peter Trainor offers five options for travel within Canada that will alleviate your carbon guilt.
As usual, the rest of the issue is a mix of great stories both on and off the travel theme. Now, back to that beach cover…
Jessica Johnston
editor[at]thismagazine[dot]ca
