Though opinions on this differ, the truth is that the vast majority of young people in Cuba are optimistic. The first thing many friends and acquaintances thought was: “the island is going to fill up with gringos!”

I imagine that the majority of those who read this post will do so from foreign shores. I suppose that in your countries Santa Claus, the reindeer, wreaths on doors and Christmas trees have been at work and put up for some time now.

Havana’s renowned Parque G has been under a “local Prohibition” for some weeks now. After some time away, I went to G Street with some friends, only to find that the food and drinks stand located at the intersection of 23rd Street (usually teeming with people) was empty.

As one walks around the Cuban capital, one notices that the city is in a rather deplorable state. With the exceptions of those areas (mostly destined to tourism) that are favored by the work of the Office of the Havana City Historian, the rest of the city suffers from decades of general neglect.

For some time, the Cuban press has been insinuating that it intends to begin covering crimes and other news that have not commonly been published to date. I believe that the public safety that a large majority of Cubans generally feel proud of would not survive close scrutiny.

Since graduating from high school some three months ago, my circle of friends has been reduced (or expanded, depending on how you look at it). One left for Ecuador, two to the United States and one of my closest friends will be leaving the country any time now.

The G Street promenade in Havana is, without a doubt, the place I and most of my classmates will remember most fondly. Going there gave you a certain aura of rebelliousness and made you important in the eyes of friends who weren’t even allowed to get near the place.

As a Cuban teenager, I consider running into a decent pizza an unforgettable experience, let alone being in Holland.
My mother lives in the Netherlands and she took me to spend the holidays with her.

Every step you take in Alamar in East Havana invites you to reflect upon your surroundings. It seems that the city is becoming one big garbage dump. Fumigation services turn up randomly, but what difference does it make?

I called a friend. We agreed to meet up at an establishment very close to a place people call the “Curve”, in Alamar, to have something to drink and talk. The first thing that struck me when I went out was the profound darkness that envelops this part of the city.