On a hot day in late July 2001, I tagged along as Yeshua escorted a group of five Canadian women to the beach from the Playa del Este hotel in which he worked. 1 We arrived in Santa María by taxi and, after paying the beach attendant, began setting up our things on the beach chairs we had rented under a large shady tree. Within minutes, a policeman approached and asked Yeshua and me for our carnets identidades-our ID cards. I exercised my tourist persona and pretended not to understand Spanish; Yeshua, on the other hand, had no choice. He surrendered his ID while explaining to the policeman that he was not a hustler but a legally employed tourism worker who had brought the Canadians and me-a U.S. American-for a day at the beach. In the month that I had been conducting research in Cuba, I was already accustomed to being stopped when in the presence of white-skinned tourists; however, when the officer left, the women wanted to know what had just happened. As I had observed him respond on previous occasions, Yeshua shrugged his shoulders and explained that the police officer "must have been confused."What Yeshua left unsaid was whether the source of the officer's "confus[ion]" was the well-worn assumption in post-emancipation societies that darker skin suggests some form of criminality, or whether something else was also at play in this touristic context given my own skin color was eventually overlooked in favor of my foreign status. In this article, I attend to such questions of racialized belonging. Who belongs where? Who should be in the company of whom? What are the criteria by which belonging is determined? And, are there categories of