HAVANA, Cuba – In Central Park, a 19th-century plaza in Havana’s Old Town, taxi driver Rainier Hernández stands next to his bubblegum-pink 1951 Chevrolet Deluxe, scouting out tourists.
Custom convertibles were once popular with the millions of tourists that flowed into Cuba each year.
Recommended stories
list of 3 itemsend of list
Mr. Hernandez, 38, used to work more than six hours a day on the city’s tourist ferries, but since the United States imposed a de facto oil blockade on Cuba in January, he has been lucky to get one to two hours a day of paid work.
“The effects of the current blockade are terrible and not something any Cuban expected,” Hernandez said. “For us workers, we have a lot to lose because we live off of (tourism).”
For decades, tourism has been a mainstay of Cuba’s economy. At its peak in the late 2010s, travel-related sectors accounted for nearly 12% of gross domestic product (GDP).
But its economic momentum has been lost in recent years, a trend accelerated by the recent escalation of tensions between the United States and Cuba.
Just 1.6 million tourists visited the island between January and November last year, a shocking drop from the peak of 4.8 million in 2018.
As a result, Cubans who rely on tourism for a living are struggling to buy essentials and are worried about their future on the island.
“If there’s no tourism, there’s no economy,” said tour guide Carlos Fariñas, 29, one of those considering leaving.

“Everyone is scared.”
Jonathan Garcia, a hotel concierge, still remembers the moment the outlook for this year turned sour.
Cuba’s tourism industry had already suffered a series of blows since its peak in 2018. For example, in 2019, Donald Trump took steps to undermine Cuba’s tourism industry during his first term as US president.
These included a ban on cruises to Cuba from the United States and new restrictions that prevent Europeans visiting Cuba from enjoying visa-free travel to the United States.
Then, in 2020, the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) pandemic occurred, which also caused a decline in visitor numbers.
But Garcia said Jan. 3 was a turning point. On this day, the Trump administration authorized a military operation to abduct and imprison Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro.
Since then, President Trump has repeatedly warned Cuba that its government could face similar action. He also threatened to block oil shipments to the island from Venezuela and impose tariffs on countries exporting fuel to the island.
Fearing what might happen, many visitors to Garcia’s hotel canceled their reservations. Some expressed fear in emails that the U.S. might bomb Cuba, while others were horrified by news articles about fuel shortages and power outages.
“Everyone is scared,” Garcia said. “One day we had a lot of reservations, and after the Venezuela thing, you could immediately see the impact.”
Garcia’s hotel has had to lay off half its staff since the oil blockade was announced on January 29th. Guests stopped coming. The rest of the employees are constantly on edge. “You always think you’re at risk of losing your job.”
Meanwhile, the country has suffered two island-wide power outages. Several airlines have suspended flights to Cuba, citing fuel shortages on the island as a risk to flights back home.
Nowadays, Havana’s main tourist attractions seem abandoned. In the old town, waiters mill around while chairs are emptied in bars and restaurants. Employees at a deserted, upscale mall built for tourists stare out at the sky from storefront windows.

“Transportation costs are very high.”
Farinas, one of the local tour guides, said he worked two days a week escorting groups of up to 15 people around Havana.
He says he now averages one tour every two to three weeks. His groups sometimes consist of just two people.
The walking tour is free, but Farinas used to be able to expect a tip of $10 to $20 per person. Currently, he is struggling to make ends meet.
It is difficult for him to even go to the historical center of the capital. The oil blockade caused gasoline prices to rise to $12 a liter ($45.36 a gallon), and the government suspended nearly all public transportation.
Farinas, who lives with his 91-year-old grandmother on the outskirts of Havana, has to pay more than twice the normal fare for transportation to the city center.
“[The lockdown]is affecting me in terms of transportation and mobility. Transportation costs are rising. Now, no matter how much I want to, I can’t come to Havana every day to look for work because transportation costs are so high,” Carlos explains.
His mother left Cuba in 2010 in search of a better life. While Farinas continues to support his family, he also has to care for his ailing grandmother, who suffers from diabetes and high blood pressure.
“I used to be able to have luxuries, but now I can’t,” Farinas says.
But he says he’s grateful to have a safe home. For others, the collapse of the tourism industry could result in the loss of a roof over their heads.

“I’ll die of starvation”
Alejandro Ricardo, 26, has been running an Airbnb in the leafy Vedado neighborhood for four years. The Art Deco house is within walking distance of major tourist attractions such as Plaza de la Revolution and the Cristobal Colon Cemetery.
In the past, Ricardo has hosted travelers from the United States, Europe, and even Sri Lanka. He would make breakfast, recommend places to go, and keep the house tidy.
“It was a very good year…house occupancy was always 80%,” Ricardo said. “(Guests) always talked to me and shared stories with me, and I made a lot of friends that way.
But for now, the home’s eight bedrooms remain vacant. With no guests to greet, Ricardo moved all the outdoor furniture inside and piled up chairs and tables in a front room out of the sun and rain.
He started noticing a decline in tourism last July, nearly six months after President Trump was sworn in for his second term.
That same year, President Trump put Cuba back on the list of “state sponsors of terrorism” and reimposed sanctions from his first term in late June.
By October, Ricardo said, there were no more reservations. This leaves Ricardo in a precarious position.
The owner of the property lives overseas, and he entrusts Ricardo with the management of the property and lets him live there for free.
Many people in Cuba live in multi-generational family homes, and the domestic rental market is almost non-existent. However, Ricardo’s family sold their home when his mother moved abroad, leaving him to rely on his tourism job to make ends meet.
Like many Cubans working in the tourism industry, Ricardo is only paid if he has customers.

He managed to survive for several months on his own savings and a small reserve that had recently been brought to Cuba by two American missionaries.
But when the situation worsened in January, Ricardo stopped holding out hope that tourism would return. Instead, he started driving passengers around on electric motorcycles.
Although Ricardo is managing to make ends meet, he said his biggest fear is that his homeowner will sell his home and he will have no place to live amid the bleak outlook for Cuba’s tourism industry. “That’s always a concern.”
With the tourism industry in decline, Ricardo, who was studying to become an accountant, believes his only chance for a better life lies abroad. “My future is in another country. I need to leave,” he said.
Ricardo, who once enjoyed success during Cuba’s golden age of tourism, believes there is little chance that things will ever go back to normal.
“If we wait for tourists to come, we will starve to death.”
