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The Real Cuba Libre

Cuba. The word evokes thoughts of Hemingway, exotic music, and, of course, fine Cuban tobacco rolled lovingly between the thighs of dark eyed women. Here, the hot tropical nights are populated by a fiery and passionate people. A combination guaranteed to spark interest in the travel community, and in spite of its political leanings, it remains a hot spot on the Caribbean destination list.

Years ago, on my first trip to Cuba, two destinations were whispered in my ear through the heat and clatter of a Havana kitchen. Over cold guava juice, my host confided that I would find "la mejor de Cuba", the best of Cuba, in the east, in Santiago de Cuba and Baracoa, two cities with histories of their own far from the bodegas of Havana and the beaches of Veradero.

"And another thing," he insisted, "you must not stay in a hotel. You must find a Casa Particular. That is the only way to experience Cuba."

According to my host, there were families throughout Cuba who rented out rooms in their homes to travelers at cut rate prices. These Casa Particulars must be state licensed, but that is as close to a traditional hotel as these charming alternatives get. The idea intrigued me because there is a familiarity bred by staying with strangers that transcends the sterility of hotel stationary and maid made beds. Casual conversations unfold, and while we stumble through translations, laughter erupts and memories form. In the warmth found only in the kitchens and parlors of ordinary homes lay the quaint Casa Particulars. Within these walls the locals share the real Cuba Libre with the fortunate few who find their tricky entrances. I am lucky enough to be counted among these few, for on this trip I was able to look at Cuba through different eyes, living with the people, sharing their meals, discussing their politics, and learning their dreams.

Santiago de Cuba is a city with a long and colorful history, both as one of the first colonial settlements and as the birthplace of the revolution, but surprisingly, it is not a popular tourist haunt. Even so, I find a Casa Particular with little difficulty. The one I choose, Adria Vega Mola, is a building you might easily pass by, for it is a house with little adornment. Its anonymous doorway is marked only with the number 50 and a small sign identifying it as an "aver ascriptor" - the symbol for the government's blessing of the venture. It is a modest two-story; the second floor a recent addition and a private refuge for

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