Tobacco and sugar. Two exports — in addition to rum — that Cuba is most known for. After spending three days in the tobacco-growing Piñar del Rio province, which included visiting a tobacco farm and learning about the cigar-making process in Viñales, we headed to the region that was once dominated by sugar production. On our travel day, we took a punishing 8-hour ride in a crammed colectivo halfway across the island to the town of Trinidad.
These days, Trinidad is a touristy town, known for its well-preserved, beautiful colonial center with great restaurants and musical venues. And it was the sugar money with which this colonial jewel was built. The nearby Valle de Ingenios (the Valley of the Sugar Mills) was a premier sugar cane growing area that, at one time, was home to more than 50 sugar mills. Given its historical importance, the valley, together with Trinidad, has been recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Trinidad’s historical heart unabashedly showcases the riches of the former sugar industry. Plaza Mayor is dominated by an imposing two-story Palacio Brunet that once belonged to the Borrell family, one of the wealthiest sugar magnates of the day. The neighboring Palacio Cantero and other buildings similarly exhibit what could be bought and built with the “white gold” money back in the day. For a couple of days in Trinidad, we roamed the cobblestone streets, got inside colonial mansions, and enjoyed the views from various viewpoints.
After seeing everything in town, it was time for us to see the place where all these riches were made. On the last day in Trinidad, we arranged a taxi to take us to the Valley of the Sugar Mills. The driver came to pick us up in the morning in an eggplant-colored 1988 Moskvich, and off we went.
The first stop was at a mirador (a viewpoint) overlooking the valley. The bird's-eye view was breathtaking. The valley majestically spread out before us, with greenery extending in all directions. We stood there, gazing at the beautiful hills, and imagined the valley in the 18th century filled with sugar cane plantations and working sugar mills.
The next stop was San Isidro, a former sugar mill. To get there, we drove into the valley and exited the main road to take a dirt road. San Isidro was one of many sugar mills, and what is left of it today is just the ruins that are being restored and developed into a tourist attraction. The site has the remains of the owner’s house, production facilities, slaves’ living quarters, and a watchtower. The entrance fee included an excellent 40-minute guided tour. A guide walked us through this former small-scale operation and provided an overview of the history and the process of sugar production in Cuba.
In the 16th century, the Spanish introduced sugar cane in Cuba, and it turned out that the country had excellent climate conditions for growing the plant. The easy access to ports and international markets proved critical, allowing Cuba at one point to become the world’s leading sugar producer. Because the native Taino population was quickly eradicated due to violence, genocide, and diseases brought by Europeans, thousands of slaves were soon brought from Africa to work at sugar mills.
The guide then went on to explain the different stages of sugar production. Sugar cane was planted and harvested by slaves who worked in the fields under the scorching Cuban sun. Once harvested, sugar cane was delivered to the mill, where juice was extracted and refined through a series of boiling and filtering processes. The final stage, crystallization, involved pouring sugar syrup into an upside-down cone-shaped form and then draining water through it, washing out the contaminants. The final product took the form of a crystallized conical loaf, with the best sugar located at the bottom of the cone and the tip containing all the impurities. The tips were usually unsuited for markets and were often fed to slaves, whose well-being was hardly a consideration.
The guide described in harrowing detail the inhumane conditions in which slaves lived at these plantations. Slaves were mistreated and lived on average 6-7 years before they died and were replaced by others. To numb their pain and not notice the abysmal living conditions and mistreatment, slaves often began their workday by drinking cheap rum that was produced from byproducts of sugar production. The foreman slave, vital to ensuring the efficient and uninterrupted operation, typically had a slightly better life and was even allowed to have a family that lived with him at the plantation.
Slavery in Cuba was abolished in 1886, but not for humanistic reasons. At the end of the 19th century, it was simply no longer lucrative due to the Industrial Revolution and new technological advances, as well as because of frequent slaves' rebellions and the growing use of cheaper beet sugar in Europe. Eventually, sugar production on the island went into decline, and many mills, like San Isidro, were abandoned.
Our last stop in the region was Manaca Iznaga — a small village dominated by a tall and imposing tower. As we pulled up to the village’s entrance, there was a line of locals getting their bottles and cups filled with sugar cane juice. Two men in charge of the stand were operating a simple juice-squeezing machine, feeding sugar cane into one end and retrieving juice at the other. We joined the line and soon were sipping deliciously sweet, chilled sugar cane juice. Our driver offered to have rum added to our drinks, but it was way too early for alcohol.
The main attraction in this village is the 19th-century stone tower. Standing at 147 feet, at one time, it was the tallest construction in Cuba. The structure, as well as the surrounding area, belonged to the Iznaga family, another prosperous family that made its wealth in the sugar business. The height and elegance of the tower exhibited the power and high status of the Iznaga family in Cuban society.
Like with everything in Cuba — be it the crumbling architecture of Old Havana or the dreamy mogote landscapes of Viñales — the tower was truly a cinematographic sight. By the tower, the locals were selling linens made in this village. With rows of linens hanging and flapping in the wind on each side of the street, we approached the tower, and it felt as if we were walking into a frame from an Alfonso Cuarón movie.
We climbed to the top to find stunning views of the valley. The rural landscape was serene and pastoral, extending to the horizon. The time seemed to slow, as we stood in silence, taking in the peaceful atmosphere and listening to the wind.
“I can’t imagine the size of the plantation and how many slaves worked here, if they needed a tower this tall to oversee them all,” I said.
“Wait, what?” Julia gasped. “This was also a slave watchtower, like that small one at San Isidro?”
“Well, of course! It had a bell on top to announce the start and end of the workday and ring an alarm if any attempted an escape.”
Julia sighed, “There is no getting away from the past here. Not in the cities, not in the countryside.”
There, at the top of the slave watchtower, I thought of how much sugar shaped the history and future of Cuba, from the profits fueling economic growth to the inhumane labor exploitation. It was this social inequality that ultimately led to political instability and eventually to the Cuban Revolution. Slave watchtowers sprinkled through the countryside near Trinidad just stand as stark reminders of the lessons of the past.
