Rule #1: If you come to Cuba, you’re probably going to get laid.I’d like to be able to say that Cuban girls just find me irresistible, and that my Cuban experience was something out of the ordinary, but from what I could see I was just about the least desirable tourist in the country.For a time there was a kind of tourist apartheid going on.The tourists flew in, stayed in all-inclusive compounds on beaches that were off-limits to locals. This is the part that makes your average edgy backpacker squirm. The local guys I talked to, though, saw things differently. Certainly it’s not prostitution as most westerners think of it.They were stale, older questions about revolutions and socialism and bearded men in berets.Even if I hadn’t come to Cuba to get laid, Cuba clearly wanted me to get as laid as possible as fast as possible.
Going out with a foreigner is one of the few ways a young Cuban is going to have some fun on a Saturday night.
In the morning he is elated and she is still fucking gorgeous.
Before she leaves she asks him if he has some extra money for a pair of shoes she really wants/for a birthday gift for her mother/for a ticket to visit her cousin in another town.
So a guy gets talking to a girl (although there’s every possibility it is she who initiated the conversation).
She laughs at his jokes, touches his arm whenever she speaks to him, and is fucking gorgeous. She accepts and suggests a nice place (meaning they don’t recycle drinking straws and might actually have all the things listed on the menu).
As I tried to avoid eye contact with the errant gonad I realised that this guy, with his swagger and dangle, understood Cuba far better than I did.