Those who know me well, and even many who don’t, usually know one thing to be true about me: I am not the person for soundbites. When I tell a story, I want to tell the whole story – details and all. This is especially true for experiences I hold close to my heart, as I do for this recent trip to Cuba.
However, with the recent popularity of Cuba in the news, I hesitated posting this at all. I don’t like to chime in on trending topics of conversation for the sake of social relevance. It’s all mostly white noise, anyway. But this is different.
My story with this island began long before I was born. I can trace my way through the pieces found in my parents, and their parents, and their parents before that. In some ways, I thought that was true before, but now I know it is. And the stories I have to tell as a result, no matter what is buzzing on the news, have little to do with policy and everything to do with people and the places in between.
I have spent weeks trying to decide how to even begin stitching together all the conversations and car rides, house visits and baseball games, church services and cups of coffee into one cohesive piece to share. The fact is there’s too much material. So, I will pull it apart and tell it in chapters.
Consider this the preliminary chapter: places.
Western Cuba through my eyes: November 3 – November 17, 2014.
All photos taken with an iPhone 5c. Edited with VSCOcam.