Beyond the Island of Desire
“It’s time to be open about the contradictions in Cuban society about pornography and prostitution “
Image: Gabriel Guerra Bianchini
It is impossible to deny that Cuban’s wear their sexuality on their sleeves; it’s obvious in the exuberant and sensuous way we interact, dress, dance and create. It is an essence that brings to life theatre, dance, art… our daily life.
Perhaps these traits are what have given us a reputation —perhaps fairly won but very clearly exaggerated— for being passionate and good lovers. But now it’s time to put an end to residual prejudices when discussing the subject in our society and to face, for example, that we have become a tourist destination chosen by many because of the availability of easy, good, cheep sex.
It must be mentioned that Cuban law prohibits prostitution, advertising sex and even pornography, but these bans do not prevent their existence.
To be born in Cuba is one of our greatest prides. Our unique essence is immediately apparent to anyone who visits our country or who meets one of our compatriots abroad. This quality makes us stand out on a world stage despite being such a small country geographically. Some say it’s because Cuba has been labelled an “island of desire,” like in the novel Dirty Blonde and Half Cuban, (in Spanish the title is “Almost Blonde on the Island of Desire”). Can we be proud of such a name if it is based on the fact that many men and women, like the book’s heroine, resort to selling their bodies, despite their level of education, to complement their limited income?
It must be mentioned that Cuban law prohibits prostitution, advertising sex and even pornography, but these bans do not prevent their existence.
It’s time to face that we have become a tourist destination chosen by many because of the availability of easy, good, cheep sex.
Producing pornography or downloading it on state Internet connections is criminal. To claim that people don’t use it is a nonsensical self-deception. We live in a machista, morally conservative society, where very few men, and far fewer women, publically admit in that they like these products, despite demonstrating different attitudes in private. New generations are losing these prejudices but have inherited an obstacle to achieving their full potential: space and privacy, so “hiding” in public spaces to have sex is still the most common option.
In good Cuban we say “dirty laundry is washed at home” meaning we take care of our own problems and we resolve them with dignity. Without ignoring this premise, it is time to remove the taboo surrounding these subjects so we can be liberated from the label of a sexual paradise. Or is it in our interest to maintain this image?
It is not about prudishness, trying to protect a future virginal image, which is impossible in our case. It is rather about transparency and sincerity, which would give us greater credibility when defending our decency to others, and above all, to ourselves.
