My first time in Cuba

Landing in Havana, I’m unsure what to expect. Concerned about my spouse’s safety as well as my own, I fear what lays before us as we encounter the customs officer. As I engage, I’m shocked and oddly relieved. I look over the counter at a young man roughly my age, 27, with a pale brown uniform yet stylish glasses. Next, I’m greeted by a young woman standing next to a (possibly broken?) x-ray machine in a bizarre uniform more akin to a catholic school girl than an intimidating border patrol officer. Es Cuba.
Es Cuba, a saying I hear repeatedly, is as much an excuse for Cuba’s inconsistent and limited benevolence as it is a joke Cubans use to keep their own sanity. Es Cuba, is seen in a Cuban’s ability to provide their family with groceries for a week using their entire monthly government stipend. Es Cuba, is best understood when walking through Havana and passing a make-shift garage where a 1950’s Chevrolet engine lays on the ground in 1,000 pieces, next to a make-shift grocery store with dirty vegetables being sold, next to a pile of rubble where a building once stood, next to a family’s home where they’ve lived since the revolution with no hope of moving out or remodeling. Es Cuba.
Life is not normal for individuals living in Cuba as we know it in America. And yet, American normalcy is challenged while you’re there. The question becomes, what’s truly important in life, and how different are we? The answers I found in Cuba to these questions are relationships, and not very different. And yet the struggles that Cubans face are daunting because above them is a government system that doesn’t allow for personal prosperity, and below them is nothing, no safety net or support system.
That’s what makes First-Hand Aid’s work so important. In Cuba I learned that behind the guise of beautiful architecture and equality are failing infrastructure and families all equally struggling to feed and support their loved ones. And yet, everyone I met was filled with joy and hope. These same feelings are shared in our own homes around this holiday season. So, I invite you to reflect on what you are joyful about and hopeful for as 2019 ends and 2020 brings us into a new decade. And we, at First-Hand Aid, invite you to join us in sharing in the joy and hope we see in our brothers and sisters in Cuba as we continue to partner with them.
 
Happy holidays,
Jay Glover