I never imagined I´d make it to Cuba. The first few days-- rather, the whole three weeks-- were a surreal, magical dream:
Immediate propoganda: The ideas are the weapons (¿) in the fight for humanity.
Milena, a woman from Bulgaria that I roomed with, in front of a shooting range. ¨Every Cuban should know how to shoot and shoot well¨. (Later I found out that translated into Colombian Spanish, it means something quite different!)
Glorious.
Taxistas in front of el Capitolio.
¨Good Appetite¨.
Salsa en la Plaza de la Catedral.
40-cent taxi ride in a fifty-year-old vehicle.
Buenas noches.
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