In Havana’s Miramar suburb, a clock tower commands an immaculate stretch of median along Avenida Quinta. The lush vegetation and stately embassies lining both sides of the refurbished street make Quinta Cuba’s most prestigious boulevard.

Upon closer inspection, one notices the clock has stopped.

There could be no better metaphor for Cuba in 2007. For the city of Havana, time halted when Fidel Castro took power in 1959.

In a concession to economic necessity in a post-Soviet world, the Cuban government has allowed the changes necessary to attract tourists’ hard currency to Cuba. While Havana and selected resort areas benefit from an ongoing facelift, the patient—Cuba—remains in serious condition.

While the wider world has outgrown communism and embraced the free market in the last 20 years, Castro’s regime has stubbornly clung to its tired Cold War doctrine and anti-capitalist rant.

Waiting to Emigrate

Cubans’ responses range from resignation to resistance to migration. According to the Cuban Commission on Human Rights and National Reconciliation, 246 political prisoners endure harsh conditions in crowded prisons and between 2,000 and 3,000 citizens are held on the charge of "dangerousness." Almost a quarter million Cubans have applied for U.S. immigrant visas or refugee travel documents.

Despite the legal means in place to foster their safe and orderly departure, many Cubans are too desperate to wait. In fiscal year 2006, an estimated 15,700 Cubans took to the sea. The results of the Cuban government’s antiquated policies are visible throughout Havana. In block after block, wooden scaffolds support decaying buildings and lumbering American-made ‘50s-era sedans trail smoke past billboards spouting revolutionary rhetoric.

When asked to summarize their experience in Cuba, most diplomats at the U.S. Interests Section use the word “surreal.” They also say it is “fascinating,” “difficult” and “inspiring.” Among the key components of the Cuban government’s longstanding policy to insulate its citizens from the world is its tireless campaign to isolate the 51 resident USINT diplomats and their families from Cuban society. There is no question that a tour of duty in Havana is an experience unlike any other in the Foreign Service.

In January 2006, USINT installed a billboard on its fifth floor that scrolls current events, quotes and human-interest stories to the citizens of Havana. Vexed at the prospect of an informed citizenry, the Castro government moved with uncharacteristic alacrity. Almost overnight a cluster of black flags sprang up to block the ticker from view. Coupled with the numerous accusatory billboards and ring of unsmiling police officers around USINT’s six-story oceanfront building, the flags make it abundantly clear that the Cuban government regards USINT as Ground Zero in the clash between democracy and communism.

Under Scrutiny

Being a U.S. diplomat in Havana has long meant living under difficult circumstances. Listening devices in all USINT spaces, vehicles and homes mean one can never escape Cuban government scrutiny. The pervasive intelligence gathering effort directed at USINT has garnered Havana the dubious honor of being the U.S. government’s sole non-fraternization post. The increasingly fickle nature of Cuba’s visa issuance procedures makes it impossible to plan arrival schedules of section personnel and visiting family. And in-country travel is restricted to Havana and its environs.

One challenge in Havana is shared by all, regardless of nationality: the paucity of food and shopping. USINT personnel rapidly learn to buy in bulk when desired items appear in stores that cater to expatriates, as that may be their only opportunity. As the average mark-up on imported items is 240 percent, the exorbitant cost of filling a shopping cart sometimes leaves one wondering which is worse: missing a favorite item or finding it.

Accustomed to mitigating Cuba’s perennial grocery shortage through household and consumables shipments, the USINT community has recently contended with a spate of Cuban government import restrictions. Some are reciprocal, while others seem almost random. Cuban authorities currently hold 28 USINT shipments in local ports. Some have been in limbo for more than 18 months. Since last year, the Cuban government has prohibited the delivery of personal vehicles for incoming USINT staff.

Despite the undeniable hardships and frustrations, many Foreign Service families extend their tours in Havana. Although government-to-government relations are chilly, the Cuban people are friendly and generally like Americans. The quality of the elementary education programs at the International, Spanish and French schools is an attraction, as is the excellent prospect for spousal employment at USINT.

The Cuban government’s draconian policies toward USINT personnel have produced a tightly knit community with frequent social activities. Also, Havana is a safe city in which to live. Although much crime goes unreported, the incidence of residential break-ins is exceedingly low in areas where USINT personnel live.

Dominoes and Salsa

Finally, while sadly complicating the plight of habaneros, the frozen-in-time quality of Havana makes it a unique and photogenic city. From its Spanish colonial architecture to its quality cultural events and vibrant musical heritage, Havana readily shares its treasures with the visitor. For those exploring its narrow passages on foot, Havana’s rich culture is on display at every corner. The exclamations of men shuffling dominoes on rickety tables, the laughter of women chatting in shadowed doorways and the shouts of children playing baseball with makeshift bats compete for one’s attention while the ever present salsa music brings rhythm to the cacophony.

On a recent evening, tinny rock music blared from a transistor radio belonging to a group of young Cubans gathered on the massive Malecon wall. The language was English and the station from south Florida. The alluring sounds of Miami constantly remind restless Cubans how tantalizingly close is a way of life that has eluded them for three generations.

The vignette also captures the contrast between two nations with cultures so closely entwined and political ideologies so irrevocably distant. Within that dichotomy lies the charms and challenges of life in Havana for the U.S. diplomat.