HAVANA — Whenever they get power in their house — even if it’s 2 a.m. — Erisander Sánchez and his wife scramble to cook, do laundry and charge their cellphones.
These periods of electricity last anywhere from two to five hours, so sometimes the rice ends up half cooked and the beans still hard.
“Beyond the physical exhaustion, it’s the psychological exhaustion that weighs down on us,” Sánchez, 33, said. “It’s the uncertainty of not knowing when we will have power … you can’t plan anything.”
They can’t keep food in the refrigerator because it goes bad. And it’s not easy to find food he can afford.
Sánchez works in construction and doesn’t have a steady job. He can’t afford to buy milk for his kids, 5 and 10 years old, so he buys yogurt from someone who makes it at home. He often buys food in mini-markets that people set up at home.
The lack of power makes even the most basic comforts unavailable. “Sometimes you just want a fan to get some fresh air and get the mosquitos out of the way,” he said.
This is a glimpse into life for many in Cuba. As the U.S. and the communist-run country hold conversations to decide the island’s fate, caught in the middle are millions of everyday Cubans struggling to get through each day. A yearslong economic crisis has been exacerbated since the Trump administration blocked oil shipments to Cuba. Fuel is very difficult to find. It’s available in small quantities for dollars, a currency not everyone can access. Inflation is high. Food and medicine are scarce or unaffordable. Simple tasks like cooking or taking a shower are burdensome.
Cuba’s government did not immediately respond to NBC News’ request for comment. Cuba’s deputy prime minister told NBC News on Monday that the government will allow the Cuban diaspora to invest in and own businesses on the island in a bid to open up the economy. Meanwhile, Cuban President Miguel Díaz-Canel acknowledged conversations with the U.S. government and warned “these are processes that are done with great discretion, they are long processes.”
As for daily life in Havana, there are few cars visible on the streets. Buses don’t run most of the day. They go out around 6 a.m., when people go to work, and don’t operate again until about 4 p.m., when people return home. The price of taxis is out of reach for most. Three-wheel scooters with passenger seating are often used as taxis, but they too can be difficult to find when they go uncharged during extended blackouts.
Massive piles of trash with rotting food accumulate in residential areas as the fuel shortage has crippled waste collection services. It’s not uncommon to see people searching through the trash. The waste management crisis poses serious health risks. Last year there was an outbreak of mosquito-borne illnesses that affected one-third of the population.
While shows of dissent are still unusual in Cuba, mounting frustration has led to sporadic nighttime protests with people banging on kitchen pots on streets and setting piles of trash on fire. A group of protesters in the small central city of Morón broke into the Communist Party headquarters over the weekend, according to Reuters. Videos on social media showed people throwing rocks at the building. They also threw out furniture and lit it on fire. Five people were arrested.
The economic crisis is not new. The island has depended on subsidies since soon after the 1959 revolution and the U.S. has maintained an economic embargo since the early 1960s. First, the Soviet Union sent everything from fuel to food and cars. A generation of Cubans grew up watching Soviet cartoons. After the Soviet Union’s collapse in 1991, Cuba’s economy unraveled, shrinking by about 35%.
In nearby Venezuela, the rise of President Hugo Chávez, a leftist, in 1999 meant oil and aid began flowing again. The economy improved, but never reached previous levels. Blackouts, as well as food and medicine shortages, became common, even when tourism reached a high following President Barack Obama’s détente with Cuba’s government.
Then as Venezuela went into economic recession in 2014, the supply of oil and aid decreased slowly. Blackouts became prolonged and food more scarce.
By 2020, President Donald Trump had reversed much of Obama’s opening and the coronavirus pandemic had crippled the island’s vital tourism industry. When Trump initiated an oil blockade in January, people were already experiencing outages that lasted over 12 hours in Havana and longer in other provinces.
Now, it’s worse.
Shortages that ‘threaten people’s lives’
“Cuba has been experiencing significant material shortages for many years … and now those shortages have been exacerbated by the oil embargo,” said Ricardo Torres, an economist and fellow at American University. “The shortages have reached levels that threaten people’s lives. Life now revolves around when there’s electricity.”
Outside the capital, the situation is worse. In Matanzas, a province about one hour east of Havana, Ricardo Socorro says he usually goes up to 30 hours without power.
Socorro, 61, works overnight guarding a private-sector shop. He is in remission from bladder cancer and lives with his 84-year-old mother.
Because of the extended blackouts, he often spends a good portion of his salary on charcoal for cooking. He eats two meals a day: one in the morning and the other at 3 p.m. He eats whatever he can afford or is available that day. Meat is usually too expensive for his budget.
“My nutrition is not high-quality. It’s very hard to nourish yourself with the amino acids and calories you need,” he said. “Even beans are so expensive.”
“Today I had cornmeal for breakfast that I cooked the night before and for dinner I had congri,” a Cuban side dish made of rice and beans, he said. “Of course, I can only use powdered seasoning. I can’t buy onions and garlic.”
Socorro considers himself lucky. He makes about 10,500 Cuban pesos (about $20) a month in the private sector, which is several dollars above the state salary. “That’s enough for me to eat for 10 days. If it wasn’t for the help of an aunt in the United States, we would have died already,” he said.
“I can’t buy clothes or repair things in the house with the money I make. It’s strictly eating,” he said. “Everything I have is a hand-me-down, even my cellphone. It’s strictly eating for 10 days, and with the help I receive, I complete the rest.”
His house also goes days without running water. When there is water, he fills buckets and pours them into tanks in his backyard to use on days the faucets run dry. To bathe, he heats water and uses a cup. Once there’s no water left in the tanks, he walks 10 blocks to a friend’s house, where he can fill buckets of water.
“It’s really a torment,” Socorro said.
Carmen Sesín reported from Miami and Orlando Matos from Havana.