I disrelish communism. I abhor totalitarian regimes. I abhor any government that willfully muzzles its people even if the country appears to prosper. I am a purveyor of the right to self-determination, free speech, right to association and right to own property. Call me naive, but I’m sold on democracy and democratic principles.
Cuba is a communist country. But Cuba holds an allure. It is the biggest Island in the Caribbean by size and population. It is the ancestral home of cigars. The Montecristo, Cohiba, Partagas and Romeo y Julieta. And of course, there is Cuba’s interesting and fraught relationship with Uncle Sam. I am interested in culture, people and history.
So, why did I go to Cuba?
It is romanticism. It was the missus 40th birthday and we wanted to do something different. Go somewhere we’ll likely never go back to. Learn deeply about the people, their struggle and their lives. If we can inspire them by our lives and words, then, it would have been a great birthday experience. Plus, well, we’ve never been to a communist country before. This is Cuba, after all. Fidel Castro. Bay of Pigs Invasion. The Cuban Missile Crisis. 1950s cars.