It’s February 19th, 7am, Cuban time and I receive an SMS from London. “Castro’s stepped down. What’s happening there?” The answer, quite frankly, was to be “Nothing.”
As I dragged myself out of the bed into the lounge of my casa particulare (private home stay) I was eager to hear some reaction to the news. Instead I was disappointed by the acute silence on the matter amongst my host family and in Cuba as a whole. I decided to initiate conversation myself.
“I am shocked that people in London know this news before the people of Cuba,” said one of the family members with an air of resentment. “We expected it, he has cancer. We know Raul will take over. We need change. The people want change. But change must come slowly,” he adds.
I turned to the grandmother of the house who, as is typical of her generation in Cuba was reluctant to share her views. The father of the house was not so hesitant to manifest his joy as he launched into the kitchen exclaiming “The dictators gone!”
This was to be almost all of the reaction I was to observe on the big news. I was based in the small and sleepy town of Baracoa, 18 hours east of Havana. The city as a whole seemed unaffected by Castro’s announcement. Immense effort is made to cut of tourists from the real perspectives on such delicate national affairs. Having a general conversation with a local can be hard enough with the police peering over every street corner, so discussing Cuban politics is a hard call.
Instead life continues as normal. As the sun rises, every home swings its doors open. Neighbours and friends have a chin wag in the front porches and sounds of salsa and reggaton blast from bedrooms and cycle rickshaws fitted with beep-box speakers. With their tall and faded colonial buildings and buzzing people noise, Cuban towns seem like roofed theatre sets miles apart from the real world. The continuous positive interaction between the people of Cuba puts capitalist society, with its dependency on Facebook, mobile phones and MSN messenger to shame.
As my travels throughout the country continue, I meet endless young, talented and educated Cubans with a desire to explore the world that so intrigues them, coupled with a lack of hope that change will come in their lifetime. Leaving the country is extremely difficult for locals, which is why most have never stepped foot outside of Cuba. Some explicitly put their hands over Castro’s photograph – their actions speak louder than words. Some maintain an air of optimism that one day, trade doors with the wider world will open, notably with neighbouring USA helping industries like tobacco to shoot through the roof. Some, albeit dubiously look forward to the day when fast food chains invade the streets of Havana.
As students, Castro and his comrades in the Sierra Maestra epitomised revolutionary idealism which formed the basis of the running of Cuba. But successful revolutionaries do not necessarily equal successful statesmen. Castro’s regime has been widely critiqued from the start for its guess work format, a reflection of a young idealist with a stop-start approach to running a nation and with little experience of running a country.
The result? A nation full of loyal nationalists, with tints of hesitant revolt surfacing, notably from the youth of Cuba and parents who want to see change for the sake of the new generation. After all, how long can Cuba live in such an intense degree of socio-economic and cultural isolation in an age when globalisation is creeping into every half empty cultural pocket. I went two weeks without setting eyes on a national newspaper (there are only two with the principal one being a product of the government) or a computer screen. Internet prices are extortionate even for capitalist society standing between 5 to 10 Cuban dollars an hour. This leaves little hope for locals who transact using the weak Cuban pesos.
Cuba needs change, but erasing the existing the regime for swift democratic transition would be too overwhelming for a nation that for nearing half a century, has known of nothing other than one party socialism, or Castrosim as it is often referred to. A deconstruction of Castro’s July 26th Movement to make it more relevant to 21st century Cuba– one beaming with cultural, medical and educational excellence – is what should lie ahead.
For the thousands of tourists flocking to Cuba with urgency to reach there before Castro dies, there is no need to hurry. I do not see Cuba changing anytime soon. The hand me down buses from China and Japan will remain and the dying vintage cars will continue to hover the streets of Havana. As Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez says “Men like Fidel never retire.” A skilled man no doubt, but Castro has been drowned in waves of controversy since day one. His stepping down means very little when the ripples of his revolution will continue to run through the country for generations to come. Castro created an imagined community, based on the nationalist politics of an undoubtedly charismatic leader but lacking clear objectivity.
The revolutionary loyalists have a great deal to be proud of – Cuba has defeated imperialist forces from Spain, America and the Soviet Union in favour of the Cuban way. Yet the sad reality is that much of Cuba’s history has been characterised by internal and external struggle as a result of these encounters, the scars of which live on today.
As I wave goodbye to my host family in Havana, I am aware that it is unlikely that my genuine offer to visit London will ever be taken up. If there is one thing I have learnt from my travels, it is that in Cuba, every door is open except the front one.
Five years old, first day at school? 18 years old, first stay at college? 25 years old, first day at work? Being "new" doesn't get easier with age, as I have recently learnt. 
