We’re back from a week in Cuba, a country that feels like it exists in a completely different century, just 100 miles from Florida’s coast.
We began our trip in Viñales, a stunning yet robust part of West Cuba. There, I spent three days biked my way through red Deet farmland on the road, as I made the pothole look smaller in New York City.
Everything is owned by the government, as US citizens technically cannot stay in hotels in Cuba. We stayed in local homes and were unusually humble to see everyday life under a regime where rarity is the norm. Power rarely worked, and the generators could never catch up. There was no internet access.
We toured the tobacco farms, had delicious meals at Paradares (private run restaurant), and were constantly reminded of how witty Cubans turned out in the face of many constraints.
At one point, our travel leader “accidentally” broke the clutch on the bus. Their chrome still shines just to be rescued by a caravan of American cars in the 1950s. It was a straight scene from the film and one of the most memorable parts of the trip.
Then came Havana, a city of unforgettable beauty. Slender to see the grandeurs of the past, including Spanish colonial architecture, colorful façades and boulevards.
However, decades of negligence have ruined many buildings. It feels like walking through a weathered city like a ghost town, rather than being preserved like a museum.
Cuba is a country shaped by two forces: the US embargo and the self-harm chokehold of its own government policy.
The results will corrupt everywhere. This is where huge amounts of wealth and opportunities have simply evaporated over the past 65 years due to very poor choices.
So what did I miss at home?
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