Moving to Cuba: visas, banking and SIM cards

The heat hits you like a wall the moment you step out of José Martí International Airport — that damp, 34°C embrace that feels more like a blanket than a breeze. It’s late August in Havana, and the city is alive with the tail end of summer: open-air film screenings on Calle 23 in Vedado, rumba echoing through the Callejón de Hamel, and the smell of street pizza mixing with sea salt along the Malecón. But you’re not here for a vacation. You’re here to stay — at least for a while. And Cuba, as you’ll quickly learn, rewards patience, preparation, and a willingness to navigate a system that runs on both official rules and unofficial know-how. Let me walk you through the first week: visas, banking, SIM cards, and the paperwork that makes it all possible.

First Things First: Your Entry and Residence Basics

Since July 1, 2025, the old paper tourist card is history. You now apply for an e-visa at evisacuba.cu — it costs around US$50, takes roughly 72 hours to process, and gives you 90 days, extendable by another 90. That’s your tourist entry, and it’s fine for a long visit, but it does not grant you the right to settle here. If you’re planning to stay beyond six months or work, you need to start thinking about residency.

Within seven days of arrival, you must complete the free D’Viajeros form at dviajeros.mitrans.gob.cu — you’ll get a QR code that you show at immigration. Don’t skip this; it’s quick, and it keeps you legal. Also, mandatory medical insurance is a must. If it’s not already included in your flight ticket, buy a policy from ASISTUR at the airport before you queue for immigration. It’s straightforward and avoids a headache later.

For longer stays, the Dirección de Identificación, Inmigración y Extranjería (DIIE) — part of the Ministry of Interior — handles all residency matters. Temporary residency falls under D-code visas: D1 for technical work, D2 for students, D7 for business. Permanent residence is mainly for spouses, children, or parents of Cuban nationals, via E-1 or E-2 visas, and requires proof of income, housing, and a clean criminal record. The processing time is typically three to six months, so if you’re serious, start early. In the meantime, your tourist e-visa plus the D’Viajeros registration covers you for the first few months — enough time to figure out if Havana feels like home.

Getting a Local SIM (and Staying Connected)

The easiest thing on your first-week list is the SIM card. Head to any ETECSA office — the main one is on the corner of Galiano and San Rafael in Centro Habana, but you can also grab one at the airport arrivals hall. Bring your passport. The Cubacel Tur SIM is designed for visitors: around 10 GB of data with 30-day validity, and the price is reasonable. If you run out of data, top up at any ETECSA office or with a recharge card from a kiosk.

Wi-Fi is another beast entirely. Public hotspots — like Parque Central or the lobby of the Hotel Nacional — still use ETECSA NAUTA cards, which cost about 25 CUP per hour. That’s pocket change (around US$0.05), but the connection is slow and sometimes frustrating. The real lifeline is your phone’s data, which works fairly reliably in the city. Once you have your SIM, download the apps everyone uses: Transfermóvil and EnZona. These are essential for paying for everything from a pizza to a taxi, and they require a Cuban phone number — so your SIM is your gateway to daily life.

One thing to know: some US-based services are blocked, so if you rely on VPNs for work, install one before you arrive. Speeds are slow, but for WhatsApp, email, and maps, you’ll manage.

Banking: The Hardest Door to Open

Opening a bank account in Cuba is genuinely difficult — and it’s not you, it’s the system. Banks like Banco Metropolitano, Banco Popular de Ahorro (BPA), and Banco de Crédito y Comercio (BANDEC) are the everyday options, but they’ll typically require proof of residency status. If you’re on a tourist e-visa, you’ll likely be turned away. If you have a D-code visa or residency, you can open an account, but expect paperwork and patience.

Foreign-currency (MLC) accounts are governed by BCC Resolution 73/2020. There’s a 10% tax on USD transactions, so bring euros or withdraw in local currency once you’re here. Cards work only domestically — you won’t be using your foreign card at an ATM easily, and your Cuban card won’t work abroad. So plan to carry cash: US dollars are unofficially exchanged at around 445 CUP per dollar (as of late 2025), but the official rate is around 24 CUP per US$. Use the informal rate for budgeting, and always count your change.

Pair your account with the Transfermóvil and EnZona apps — they link to your phone number and let you pay at most shops, paladares, and even for some state services. But without a Cuban bank account, you’ll rely on cash, so get used to carrying a fat wad of pesos.

Renting and Where to Live

Rents are almost always quoted in US dollars, even if you pay in pesos. A modest one-bedroom flat in Centro Habana or Old Havana runs about 135,000–200,000 CUP per month — that’s $300–450. For a visitor, a night in a mid-range casa particular (guesthouse) is about 9,000–15,000 CUP ($20–35). If you’re staying long-term, negotiate with a landlord directly: many prefer cash and a stable tenant over short-term tourists.

Each neighborhood has its own character. Habana Vieja is the UNESCO core — stunning but touristy, with plazas and museums at every corner. Centro Habana is raw, crumbling, and alive, with cheap casas particulares and the legendary paladar La Guarida tucked behind its peeling facade. Vedado is the modern heart: La Rampa, Coppelia, Fábrica de Arte Cubano, and the Hotel Nacional. Miramar is leafy and diplomatic, with embassies and the city’s best paladares. If you want a quieter life with lower rents, try 10 de Octubre or even Guanabo on the playas del este — but you’ll sacrifice centrality.

Daily Costs and the Two-Tiered Economy

Cuba runs on two parallel systems. A plate of comida criolla (rice, beans, pork or chicken) at a local cafeteria costs about 700–1,300 CUP — that’s a dollar or two. A slice of street pizza from a corner kiosk is a bargain at 110–220 CUP, or about 25–50 US cents. But a main dish at a mid-range hotel restaurant, like the ropa vieja at the Sevilla, can hit 4,300 CUP — roughly $180 at the official rate, or a month’s salary for the average Cuban worker. That’s the harsh reality: the average state salary is around 4,000 CUP per month, and one upscale meal can consume it all.

You’ll notice this inequality in your first week. The almendrón — a shared 1950s classic-car taxi — costs a flat 10–20 CUP (20 if you cross the tunnel), while a private taxi is 900–2,200 CUP. A coffee at a hotel café is 100–150 CUP, but the same espresso on the street is half that. Budget consciously: eat where locals eat, drink local beer (a Cristal in a bar is 300–600 CUP, upscale places charge 1,650), and save your splurges for special occasions.

Navigating the Chaos: Transport, Blackouts, and Safety

The public bus system, MetroBus, is nearly collapsed — as of mid-2026, interprovincial trains run only every 16 days, and municipal buses have virtually disappeared. In practice, everyone uses almendrones on fixed routes plus private taxis, and fares are negotiated in cash — always agree before you ride. The Viaja+ app is used for digital fare payment on MetroBus, but I couldn’t fully confirm its current status, so verify before relying on it. Better to carry small change and know your route.

Electricity blackouts are a fact of life: expect rotating outages of two to six hours. Carry a power bank and a flashlight, and keep your phone charged when the grid is up. Water can also be spotty, so store some. Violent crime is rare, but watch out for taxi overcharging, jineteros (hustlers), and counterfeit street cigars. Use common sense: don’t flash cash, and negotiate prices upfront.

Despite the challenges, Havana’s rhythm is irresistible. On a Sunday evening, you might catch a free concert by Spanish singer Silvia Pérez Cruz at the church of San Francisco el Nuevo in Old Havana — she called it her most important show of the tour, an escape from the blackouts. Or join the crowds at the 10th Cuban Summer Film Festival on Calle 23, where ICAIC screens films on solar power. The Timbalaye rumba festival just wrapped up in the Callejón de Hamel, and Circuba brings circus artistry to the city in late August. This is the Havana you’ll come to love — resilient, vibrant, and endlessly surprising.

Moving to Cuba isn’t easy, but it’s deeply rewarding. Take your time, learn the ropes, and let the city work its magic. And when the heat and the lines get to you, order a cold Cristal at a bar on the Malecón, watch the sun set over the seawall, and remember why you came.