My argument here will be controversial: Cuban resorts offer superior conditions for the cultivation of intimacy. Over a short stay, tourists who remain within the resort enclave are likely to develop relationships with those who serve them 24 hours a day. The evidence of pervasive, popular material culture—here, towel sculptures left on beds in hotel rooms—indicates that this setting is a critical olive branch between Cuban workers and tourists that merits reconsideration, and respect, as an pivotal site of cultural expression.
As part of my work on tourism in Cuba, a British woman, Helen, described a recent holiday with her husband to Holguín. The pair booked a package holiday, but this choice was not without intense deliberation for the couple. Would such a prepared visit be an “authentic” experience of Cuba? For European tourists the package deals to Cuba are generally cheaper than booking flights, accommodation and food separately, or going “off the beaten track.” Even the 4* all-inclusive packages are more affordable for the tourists who are travelling long-haul distances. Yet, travel guidebooks and related journalism tend to dismiss package holidays to Cuba, reinforcing a binary between “inauthentic,” homogenous resort enclaves and “authentic” experiences in which the tourist seeks out genuine relationships with locals.
This binary has become exacerbated as shifts in US travel policy continue to see an upward spike in tourist numbers. In response to this increasing preoccupation with authenticity, the Ministerio de Turismo’s recent marketing campaigns have featured a myriad of Cuban faces and the slogan “Auténtica Cuba,” replacing the previous promotional aesthetic of unpopulated beach shots. Since the expansion of the tourist industry to private spaces such as the home, in the case of casa particulares and paladares, touristic texts increasingly cast Cubans living and working outside the formal tourism infrastructure as the gatekeepers to what Cuba “is really like.” Notably, however, tourism is one of Cuba’s largest industries, and the formal tourism venues really are a dominant, a long-inured part of Cuban life.
During a week-long observation at a 4* resort in Varadero I was surprised to see wait staff in the hotel’s restaurant greet guests with hugs and kisses. I also noted the many different ways in which such affect was woven into the duties of the Cuban resort worker, from the temporary babysitting carried out by poolside dance instructors to a barman’s counselling of a drunk guest as she described a complex family situation back home. Staff turnover is particularly low in the Cuban tourism industry, and given that repeat tourism is high, it is not difficult to see how familiar and intimate relationships develop between host and guest in hotel and resort spaces.
Helen and her husband jointly recounted their anecdotal experiences. They told me they had been ill halfway through their stay, and had refused the usual room cleaning with a “Do Not Disturb” sign on their hotel door. Venturing out the next day, they later returned to their room to find elaborate sculptures arranged across the surface of the bed, modelled using blankets and towels and made in the pair’s likeness, complete with the added props of spectacles, books and stationery as well as a handwritten note, wishing them a full recovery and an excellent stay. The efforts had been made by their room cleaner, who they had remembered meeting fleetingly on an earlier day but had not learned her name. This time, her name was clearly signed at the end of the note.
In making such elaborate efforts to show attention to the hotel’s guests, the towel-figure artist rendered her work visible. It is likely that similar efforts were made for many other guests. Regardless, in this instance a connection was made between the guests and their room cleaner, who has a discreet presence. The room cleaner’s role makes encounters with tipping guests more difficult than the sustained contact that other resort staff might have. The towel figures and note remind us of the existence of a real person whose work would otherwise become an invisible component of the resort’s seamless operation.
The towel objects also reveal playfulness in intimate resort work – the figures are funny, and still make me laugh. The towel-artist’s sense of humour is writ large. I wondered if larking around like this was a way to make the job more enjoyable, and while I did not get the opportunity to ask the lady in question, a separate interview with a tour guide revealed that having a sense of humour has a compensatory function beyond the benefit of amusing the paying guest. Humour lightens occupational stresses.
As I listened to the anecdote and looked at Helen’s photograph of the figures I immediately recognised its value as an artefact. This is not just a photo-documented item to include in my research into the affective underpinnings of Cuban tourism. This vignette was an example of host-guest intimacy, and the strategic mobilization of feeling in the tourist encounter. This is very distinct from the kind of sexualized intimacy that has been a dominant focus of research on Cuban tourism since the 1990s.
Aside from the value of the towel-figures to my own research project, the retelling of the story revealed an understanding of the implicit expectation of reciprocity established through the resort worker’s efforts. Special attentions like this are deserving of a tip, and a generous tip was left at the end of the couple’s stay. Where stark power differentials exist between tourism and labor parties this expectation is particularly understood. That said, the currency, or economic value, of affective labour is not clear-cut. The terms of such affected performances carried out informal and intimate tourism settings are negotiated clumsily and in ambiguous ways, and for the service provider, strategic opportunity runs parallel to the risk that special efforts are overlooked. While there is an international standard for exchange rates of CUC to pounds or dollars, there is an open market on values accorded to friendship and familiarity.
-Rebecca Ogden
Rebecca Ogden received her PhD from the University of Manchester. She is an editor of the forthcoming volume, Branding Latin America, based upon a 2015 conference at the University of Cambridge.