At the end of our fellowship in Haiti and the Dominican Republic, my wife and I took advantage of the the direct flight from Santo Domingo to Havana and spent five days exploring the old city. We stayed in a casa particulare, drank daiquiris at El Floridita, took Salsa lessons at La Casa del Son, smoked Montecristos, and read Hemingway on the balcony while watching life go by on the street below. It’s a beautiful city with crumbling colonial architecture, tiny soviet-era cars, and giant pre-embargo american classics. The people are colorful, and everybody is “my friend!”
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