Few celebrations carry the same weight, both culturally and legally, as that of a wedding ceremony. The event, which, put very simply, introduces a couple to society with a traditionally lavish reception, has, like most things, undergone massive changes since Cuba’s 1959 Revolution. State antagonism to the Roman Catholic Church, combined with low government wages and a heavily rationed food market, have made wedding receptions and, subsequently, the marriages that they mark, an increasingly rare sight on the island.
Like in most Latin American countries, wedding receptions in Cuba, especially in big cities, used to be grand affairs—for those who were able to afford them of course. However, such events, heavily steeped in Catholic traditions and reserved for the middle and upper classes, went against communist morals and were quickly discouraged. Over time, the simplification of the wedding ceremony coincided with (and perhaps helped accelerate) a decrease in the importance of the institution of marriage itself, with all of its legal ramifications. As Didier Martinez-Melló, a construction worker from Central Havana put it, “Weddings are for the wealthy, now we just live together. There are many ways to define a modern marriage today, you know. That tradition of large parties was lost when the Revolution triumphed. These celebrations are, in effect, capitalist ones.”
In Havana today, this seems to be the overarching attitude of many people toward the institution of marriage and, as a result, to the possibility of hosting a wedding reception. Jenny Rodríguez, who has worked for the past nine years as a hotel maid in the relatively lucrative tourism industry, scoffed at the idea of having a traditional wedding ceremony herself. She stated that most Cuban couples of the day simply move in together in order to cement their relationships. With such little regard for the bureaucratic formalities that validate a union, the marriage certificate is worth little more than the paper it is printed on. As for the reception that usually follows the government formalities, she quickly replied, “Tell me, who has money to rent a dress for the bride and a tuxedo for the groom? To buy makeup and hire a car for the evening? Who has money to pay for a buffet so that your guests can eat?”
At different moments after 1959, the Castro government has sought to promote the tradition of marriage—or at least its legal aspects—hoping to formalize domestic partnerships. Couples were therefore given a case of beer, a wedding cake, and a weekend at a hotel as a wedding present from the state, luxuries for the ordinary Cuban given that the average official monthly salary hovers around 25 USD. These benefits however, have since been discontinued. With the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, Cuba lost its major trading partner and ally, leading to a massive economic crisis that the nation only emerged from with help from new allies such as Venezuela. However, during this era of crisis known as the “Special Period in a Time of Peace,” caloric intake dropped about 36%, and serial brides and grooms soon started abusing the system—getting married, divorced, and remarried—in order to collect state benefits (The Food Crisis in Cuba, Oxfam America, 2001). In response, the state cancelled the nuptial gifts, removing a large incentive for many that saw little other reason to formalize their union.
With marriage levels remaining low into the 2000s, it seemed that the sumptuous “marriage palaces” (notary buildings that specialize in issuing marriage certificates) throughout the island would remain empty indefinitely. The largest of these, the old Spanish casino on Havana’s Paseo del Prado, is where head notary Miosotis Suárez Iglesias works. She also commented on the startling decrease in marriage rates among Cubans, stating, “Most young women just choose to move in with their partners now [instead of getting formally married], and they do so at very young ages, say 14, 15. But this is not all bad. This is because here in Cuba, we are guaranteed gender equality, and therefore women don’t need to marry or be dependent on men.”
However, changes in the political climate have recently helped revive the nearly defunct wedding industry, if not the legal marriages they used to celebrate. According to wedding planners based in Havana, a large percentage of those now getting married on the island are either Cuban-American émigrés who return solely for their celebrations or foreigners who are having destination weddings. These celebrations, with budgets and demands that are completely untenable and unfathomable for average Cubans, have brought back the sumptuous weddings of the pre-revolutionary period. While the wedding planners seemed to obviously relish in the new business that they are receiving, they did note that these celebrations point to uncomfortable new divides in Cuban society. Those who are able to return for ceremonies (which often incorporate a Catholic mass, something unusual in most Cuban weddings) are also those who frequently send over remittances. This means that a newly emerging middle class is seems to be adopting many of the socio-cultural traditions of the pre-revolutionary period, distinguishing themselves via lavish parties and religious devotion.
Many businesses have popped up to cater to this new market, profiting from Raul Castro’s relative openness to small business development on the island since his 2008 rise to power. One of these is Aires de Fiesta, which prides itself on its exclusive services and ability to host lavish receptions with sumptuous banquets in a country that is plagued by food scarcity and rationing. One of the owners of Aires de Fiesta explains, “We have these emigres with foreign capital and very high standards. Today in Cuba, if you have money, you can get whatever you need. When you want a three-tier fondant cake that costs the same to make here as it does in Paris, how would you expect an average Cuban to pay for that?” In fact, in speaking with Jenny, the hotel maid mentioned earlier, the idea of a wedding this luxurious was completely foreign. When asked, she was incredulous that such parties were even held at all on the island.
Once again, the divide in Cuba between those who do and do not have wedding receptions seems to be emerging along class lines. With more foreigners coming to the island for their nuptials, the difference between their upscale celebrations and the realities for the vast majority of Cubans brings to the fore one of the major anxieties present in the communist state--namely, the question of how to open to the outside world without sacrificing the promise of equality on which the 1959 Revolution was built.
Few celebrations carry the same weight, both culturally and legally, as that of a wedding ceremony. The event, which, put very simply, introduces a couple to society with a traditionally lavish reception, has, like most things, undergone massive changes since Cuba’s 1959 Revolution. State antagonism to the Roman Catholic Church, combined with low government wages and a heavily rationed food market, have made wedding receptions and, subsequently, the marriages that they mark, an increasingly rare sight on the island.
Like in most Latin American countries, wedding receptions in Cuba, especially in big cities, used to be grand affairs—for those who were able to afford them of course. However, such events, heavily steeped in Catholic traditions and reserved for the middle and upper classes, went against communist morals and were quickly discouraged. Over time, the simplification of the wedding ceremony coincided with (and perhaps helped accelerate) a decrease in the importance of the institution of marriage itself, with all of its legal ramifications. As Didier Martinez-Melló, a construction worker from Central Havana put it, “Weddings are for the wealthy, now we just live together. There are many ways to define a modern marriage today, you know. That tradition of large parties was lost when the Revolution triumphed. These celebrations are, in effect, capitalist ones.”
In Havana today, this seems to be the overarching attitude of many people toward the institution of marriage and, as a result, to the possibility of hosting a wedding reception. Jenny Rodríguez, who has worked for the past nine years as a hotel maid in the relatively lucrative tourism industry, scoffed at the idea of having a traditional wedding ceremony herself. She stated that most Cuban couples of the day simply move in together in order to cement their relationships. With such little regard for the bureaucratic formalities that validate a union, the marriage certificate is worth little more than the paper it is printed on. As for the reception that usually follows the government formalities, she quickly replied, “Tell me, who has money to rent a dress for the bride and a tuxedo for the groom? To buy makeup and hire a car for the evening? Who has money to pay for a buffet so that your guests can eat?”
At different moments after 1959, the Castro government has sought to promote the tradition of marriage—or at least its legal aspects—hoping to formalize domestic partnerships. Couples were therefore given a case of beer, a wedding cake, and a weekend at a hotel as a wedding present from the state, luxuries for the ordinary Cuban given that the average official monthly salary hovers around 25 USD. These benefits however, have since been discontinued. With the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, Cuba lost its major trading partner and ally, leading to a massive economic crisis that the nation only emerged from with help from new allies such as Venezuela. However, during this era of crisis known as the “Special Period in a Time of Peace,” caloric intake dropped about 36%, and serial brides and grooms soon started abusing the system—getting married, divorced, and remarried—in order to collect state benefits (The Food Crisis in Cuba, Oxfam America, 2001). In response, the state cancelled the nuptial gifts, removing a large incentive for many that saw little other reason to formalize their union.
With marriage levels remaining low into the 2000s, it seemed that the sumptuous “marriage palaces” (notary buildings that specialize in issuing marriage certificates) throughout the island would remain empty indefinitely. The largest of these, the old Spanish casino on Havana’s Paseo del Prado, is where head notary Miosotis Suárez Iglesias works. She also commented on the startling decrease in marriage rates among Cubans, stating, “Most young women just choose to move in with their partners now [instead of getting formally married], and they do so at very young ages, say 14, 15. But this is not all bad. This is because here in Cuba, we are guaranteed gender equality, and therefore women don’t need to marry or be dependent on men.”
However, changes in the political climate have recently helped revive the nearly defunct wedding industry, if not the legal marriages they used to celebrate. According to wedding planners based in Havana, a large percentage of those now getting married on the island are either Cuban-American émigrés who return solely for their celebrations or foreigners who are having destination weddings. These celebrations, with budgets and demands that are completely untenable and unfathomable for average Cubans, have brought back the sumptuous weddings of the pre-revolutionary period. While the wedding planners seemed to obviously relish in the new business that they are receiving, they did note that these celebrations point to uncomfortable new divides in Cuban society. Those who are able to return for ceremonies (which often incorporate a Catholic mass, something unusual in most Cuban weddings) are also those who frequently send over remittances. This means that a newly emerging middle class is seems to be adopting many of the socio-cultural traditions of the pre-revolutionary period, distinguishing themselves via lavish parties and religious devotion.
Many businesses have popped up to cater to this new market, profiting from Raul Castro’s relative openness to small business development on the island since his 2008 rise to power. One of these is Aires de Fiesta, which prides itself on its exclusive services and ability to host lavish receptions with sumptuous banquets in a country that is plagued by food scarcity and rationing. One of the owners of Aires de Fiesta explains, “We have these emigres with foreign capital and very high standards. Today in Cuba, if you have money, you can get whatever you need. When you want a three-tier fondant cake that costs the same to make here as it does in Paris, how would you expect an average Cuban to pay for that?” In fact, in speaking with Jenny, the hotel maid mentioned earlier, the idea of a wedding this luxurious was completely foreign. When asked, she was incredulous that such parties were even held at all on the island.
Once again, the divide in Cuba between those who do and do not have wedding receptions seems to be emerging along class lines. With more foreigners coming to the island for their nuptials, the difference between their upscale celebrations and the realities for the vast majority of Cubans brings to the fore one of the major anxieties present in the communist state--namely, the question of how to open to the outside world without sacrificing the promise of equality on which the 1959 Revolution was built.
Photo: Palacio de Matrimonios, Havana, Cuba. Photo by Author, March 2017.