Prostitution was a profitable profession for some women prior to the Cuban Revolution. So lucrative was this vocation that those who engaged in sex for money knew no other trade and it was not uncommon to see a young child in her preteens soliciting men in one of the red-light districts. Class distinction and poor social conditions influenced those who decided on this vocation; it was a way to escape poverty and hunger. Men from all over the world came to the island to visit well-known establishments to satisfy their sexual appetites, choosing women—whose colors ranged from porcelain white to ebony black—from a catalogue.
All this changed when Fidel Castro and the July 26 Movement took power in 1959. Viewing prostitution as degrading to women, the new revolutionary government set about eliminating the business and with the founding of the Federation of Cuban Women (FMC) in 1962, they embarked on a campaign of education and vocational training for those who knew no other skill other than selling their bodies.
The campaign was a success, and though it is impossible to say that prostitution was totally eliminated, there was soon no visible evidence of it. Red-light districts, houses of ill repute and open solicitation no longer existed.
That is, until the early 1990s.
Following the dismantling of the Soviet Union and the fall of the Eastern Bloc countries, all trade agreements that existed between these countries and Cuba were broken, and the “Special Period” of economic strain began. The lack of hard currency (dollars) and the material wherewithal (like petroleum) to run the country forced the island to develop its tourism industry to generate income. And with the rise of tourism came the creation of the “jinetero.”
Jinetero is the modernization of the word jinete, which means “jockey.” The use of this Havana slang to describe a prostitute or hustler softens or disguises the truth. Many women who will openly say that they are jineteras would be insulted if you called them prostitutes. When asked where the difference lies they will say that they are not selling their bodies for money, they are only looking for a good time and whatever else might come their way.
Unlike the jinetera or prostitute of yesterday, today’s “working girls” have access to education, housing and medical care. Many are university students or graduates, or have certificates of completion in vocational programs. Like those of the 1950s, these women will cite economics and inaccessibility to certain goods or establishments as the reasons why they do what they do. The only way they can buy new clothes, go dancing or purchase food that is not allotted on the ration card is, they say, by befriending a foreigner—and if that means going to bed with him, so be it.
As the “Special Period” worsened, the jinetero trade flourished. The profession that was formerly made up of mostly women from Havana started to appeal to women in other provinces. Young girls from Las Tunas, Holguín and Guantánamo flooded the capital looking for the opportunity to find a “Pepe” (a foreign John). Though there were no designated red-light districts, certain clubs, restaurants and places like the Malecón (Havana’s seafront drive) were areas where women could be found for the picking.
A look or a nod was sufficient to get almost any woman the Pepe wanted. Competition kept the prices down, so a night of fun for the customer could be had for as little as $10, and sometimes for the price of a drink and a sandwich. European men—especially Italians and Spaniards—come to Cuba specifically for sex vacations. Magazines in these countries write articles about the availability of Cuban women, their beauty and their willingness to please. Instructions as to where to find them and the going prices are included for the novice.
For a long time the Cuban government refused to acknowledge that as the tourist industry expanded, prostitution went along with that growth arm-in-arm. As women got younger, however, and Havana was inundated with migrants from the provinces, it became increasingly hard to deny what was happening.
According to many jineteras, the government’s attempt to eliminate prostitution was to criminalize the women. After receiving four police fines or warnings for soliciting foreign tourists, it was possible that a woman could be sentenced to a prison term of up to four years for antisocial behavior.
When that did not curb the problem, report the women, the next solution was to forcibly send all those who were not from Havana back to their home towns. If they were discovered back in the capital without justification, they were subject to possible prison time. In their opinion it was with the failure of this solution that led the Cuban Federation of Women (FMC) to decide it was time to get directly involved.
In the last two FMC congresses the number-one agenda item has been prostitution and its eradication. Members discussed its causes and the effects it has not only had on the women involved, but also on the moral fiber of Cuba. No longer was prostitution seen as a personal problem but as a problem for the whole society. The solutions they arrived at were basically the same ones they initiated in 1962—education, social re-education and vocational training.
Today, if a woman is believed to be a prostitute, an FMC worker will visit the family to investigate. If needed, a “re-education” process begins with the whole family, reinstating values that are written in the FMC’s “Family Code”—a set of rules and regulations to be used as a guide to protect the institution of the family. In the Federation’s Family Houses, which exist in most municipalities, counseling and therapy is available as well as school and job placement.
The involvement of the FMC has helped to arrest the problem of prostitution, but has not eliminated it. The problem is abating, but remains serious. It is particularly disturbing that one of the dramatic gains of the Revolution, the re-education of prostitutes, needs to be taken on again 40 years later.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nehanda Abiodun is a member of both the Black Liberation Army and New African People’s Organization. She has lived in exile in Cuba for more than a decade after going underground during the U.S. COINTELPRO program.
