At the height of the Cold War, Cuba was a desired locale. Like a jewel resting in the azure seas waiting to be plucked by greedy hands. She was adored by US businessmen for her verdant sugarcane fields. Coaxed and developed by gangsters hungry to exploit her proximity to Florida and limitless potential as a tax free gambling and prostitution refuge. And of course she was coveted by both the leading world powers, as a vital midway between the southern US coast and the flowering socialist regimes of South America. It seemed her fate was sealed when a band of communist guerillas swarmed out of the jungle and seized the capital Havana, prompting US businessmen and gangsters to flee for Miami with only time to grab those few possessions that could fit comfortably in a suitcase. Left behind in the chaos were over 150,000 Chevrolets, Oldsmobiles, Fords and Dodges - and following a swift, punitive embargo, those cars would be the majority of vehicles available to travel Cuban roads for the next 50 years. While tourists and travel writers may swoon at the nostalgic feelings stirred up by street filled with 57’ Chevys, Studebakers and Ramblers, Cuban car owners have a much more pragmatic view regarding their scrupulously maintained classics; they keep them up because as not to do so would leave them without any cars whatsoever. The American embargo also prevented Cuban car owners from obtaining replacement parts so an industry of backyard parts fabricators was born. â€Doctorsâ€, as these street corner mechanics are called can create almost anything practically from scratch. Chrome bumpers are manufactured by hand on a front porch. Brake pads created from scrap materials under the shade of a chestnut tree. Those parts they cannot create, they substitute. Trade with the Soviet Union brought in engines from Czechoslovakia, tires from Estonia and carburetors from Russia, all of which - combined with Cuban ingenuity - served to keep at least 60,000 obsolete cars on Cuban streets for over 50 years. Even the Comandante was not above exploiting the discarded remnants of American â€decadence’ early in the revolucion’. Historians readily agree that soon after seizing power both Fidel Castro and â€Che’ Guevara seized abandoned cars for personal use. According to a recent book about the cars of Cuba, Che chose a Chevrolet and Fidel an Oldsmobile. A few years later Soviet Lada cars would be imported in small numbers, with some being ingeniously cut into pieces and reassembled into stretch vehicles. It seems that despite the best efforts of JFK Limousine Service in Havana could not be halted. In recent times the collapse of the Soviet Union has left communist Cuba with a diminishing number of trading partners, and therefore a diminishing supply of parts for maintaining the islands deteriorating fleet of cars. As of late Chinese-manufactured Geely automobiles have begun appearing on Cuban roadways. Far removed from the strictly utilitarian Soviet Ladas the Geelys are based on a design by Korean carmaker Daewoo and have engines designed in conjunction with Toyota. The Geelys also have other advanced innovations to lure Cuban drivers away from their tried and trusted classic cars; namely, electric windows, CD players and - the ultimate luxury for a tropical nation - air conditioning. While fewer than 2,000 Geelys have been delivered to Cuba, China’s largest privately owned car manufacturer has not given up on the potential of a cuban car market. Despite the best efforts of shade-tree â€doctors’ and backyard mechanics every day sees fewer and fewer classic American and Soviet cars being resurrected for their 52nd, 53rd, or 54th year on the road. With such a strong tradition of car repair and customization one can only wonder, how long before the first homemade Geely limousine starts prowling the streets of Havana?
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