In Cuba, a queue is not just a queue. It’s a cola, and it has rules.
The first question is not “what are we waiting for?” It’s “¿quién es el último?”
That person is now your reference point. You can leave briefly, come back, talk to people, complain about the heat, complain about the government, complain about whatever is being sold… but everyone knows who belongs where.
A Cuban queue can look like twenty people standing nowhere near each other. Don’t be fooled. They are in order. They know the order. And if you cut in, they will suddenly become very organised.
