HOW NOT TO GET TO CUBA …

With one day remaining, most participants for Synthesis 2012 either ignored remaining events to mingle with each other, or left early.  I was among them.  My bus arrived about 11:30 AM back in Cancun after a four hour drive to the airport.  Once again, I was introduced to the oddity that makes up south-of-the-border flight and travel arrangements.  Quickly learned for example, only Aero-Mexico and Cubana Airlines went to Havana, Cuba.  The first only on Tuesday and Thursday.  The latter daily, but only through a cash payment.

I must have the look” (as in a major bullseye painted on my travel vest).  For I am swooped on almost immediately by an official looking fellow with more badges and ribbons than an army major general.  He speaks English.  He explained his status with the airport, offering assistance to passengers.  He can assist me getting flights “which are not available.”  I compare notes with a couple Aussies and Brits, find out that tickets to Havana for this day (Sunday) really are rare, get some idea of pricing, and decide to accept his assistance.  First trip, to the cash machine.  Only Cubana is flying this day.  They only accept cash, and it has to be Mexican pesos.  No American dollars.  Fifty years after the Cuban revolution, America and Cuba are still culturally and economically at war.

It takes two hours to find that all my careful prior arrangements to have guaranteed access to cash and credit with my banks have apparently gone for naught.  My Pin number password codes are rejected, no matter what entries are attempted –cash, credit, or savings.  Then the cards are rejected, for too many swipe attempts.  The service official stands by patiently, does some minor interpretation for me, and repeatedly checks his watch.

At one point, I even call US Bank in the United States to have them troubleshoot why cash is not working.  The bank employee stays online while I attempt yet again to get pesos out of the cash dispenser.  He tells me a 24 hour rule may be in order, and I would need to try again tomorrow.

Same result with my primary bank, Wells Fargo.  The PIN number I use virtually every day won’t work – for savings, cash, or credit.  From either a debit card, or a savings account number.  It appears I will have to make a major adjustment in both flight and travel plans.  There simply is not time to call all the banks prior to my sole daily flight to Havana leaving at 3:30 PM to get a fix.

Suddenly and inexplicably, the cash machine works.  But only for half the cash I need.  I now have what seems like millions of pesos, and only half my fare.  What to do?  The service official checks his watch.  He has been far too patient.  This is not just service.  He has an investment in me now.  He is on the take, at some level.  He is clearly part of some systematic cabal within the airport. He has been with me over two hourS, and follows me like a lost puppy.  It is then I know I am being fleeced.

And yet, there is a timeline to adhere to.  It is not within my range of choices to sit around Cancun for another day, to cycle through another round of choices.  I make the decision to acquire the balance of my fare from the greenbacks carefully stowed in the deep security pockets of my travel vest.  It goes without saying there are conversion commissions to pay.  Then the “oh, I forgot, you have to pay your airport and emigration tax.”  I heard previously it was $23.

The Air Cubana personnel and the airport official who have secretly huddled discussing my ticket fate demand $50.  In cash.  I pay, but ask for a receipt.  They frown.  Say this is not necessary.  I point out that when I return from Cuba, I will not want to be paying this again.  And need my proof.  I think they went into an unused box of surplus stickers that might have served a Kindergarten art class, slapped ‘em down with studied determination, and put some stamps across.  “Done!” they announce, beaming faces practically dripping with exultation.

I leave with my ticket and boarding pass, knowing for the last hour that I have been officially “wheeled,” yet triumphant that I’d paid $100 less than the Brits and Aussies, who had fallen for the “only first class seats are left now” gambit.  Everybody, it seems, who had been threatened with the warning that “there is only one seat left and there are no more flights today” explanation somehow makes it on the plane.  What are the odds?  I laugh.  They have done it again.

The explanation given is: “Oh, we have had a lot of cancellations today.  You know, it is almost Christmas.”  This is a most crude, but effective means of squeezing every last dollar out of foreigners desperate to get to Cuba.  Especially given the artificial time crunch, and the language differences present.  You are at their mercy.  But on your way to Havana!