I totally rock the multi-task, speed read for bullet points, glance at your post and move on jam, but the older I get, I can't ignore that I'm actually a slow processor. When I take the time to ponder something well, the strangest thing happens in me, I start to pay attention to the feeling coursing beneath which usually has a sweet story attached. So I find myself before a marvelous opportunity to dip below my surface experience and practice this art of slowing down to unpack my first of many adventures in Cuba with Project Por Amor.

*Me on the black keys of a Mid-Century Modern piano-shaped swimming pool at the Paladar Vista Mar, an old house reconverted into a restaurant where we ate in the Miramar neighborhood.*

Trini girl in Cuba.

I'm first generation North American born, but my family is from Trinidad and Tobago, two breathtaking islands (one country) on the tail end of the Caribbean. As a kid I spent a lot of energy looking for where I fit in. I've heard this similar struggle from other first-generationers [be forewarned, I just make up words and I love a good run on sentence]. There's this tension of not knowing the country of my ancestry and not feeling connected culturally to the country where I was born. In my case, my dark skin, lanky frame, and clearly Indian features didn't match anyone around me. I do recall distinctive moments in my journey though, where I've felt a curious attachment to cultures, even one's I couldn't necessarily call "my own". I found it navigating my auntie Cora's lyrical Trinidad accent and raucous laughter when she'd come to visit, or in learning to roll out our traditional Roti flatbread with my Auntie Carol. I found it journaling and sipping coffee at a plaza near the Segovian aqueduct in Spain while I racked my brain in search of the perfect adjectives to capture the awe-inspiring beauty around me. And I also discovered this connection tilling the soil of my vegetable garden in Oaxaca, Mexico while my two little girls played beside me making mud pies in the earth. There we tenderly worked the ground that would later house 50 orphans and the thought of that time in my life still moves me to tears. That same sense of connectivity came when I met Cuba after joining Project Por Amor in November of 2023. I'm realizing that these snapshots of my memories are as much a part of my cultural identity as any belonging I so desperately sought in my life. I offer this photo diary as a means of both honoring my experience and grounding myself in my new role with Project Por Amor.

*Cuba Libre (free Cuba): A typical Cuban drink made of rum, lime and government cola (good luck finding a Coke and forget diet soda if that's your thing).*
*One of our favorite private boutique hotels, la Casa Italia is in the background.*

Just off a red-eye, in need of a shower, hair dye, and some foundation [what is it with age and freckles?] but totally excited to be in Havana. I arrived a day before the 28-person group from the Preservation Resource Center of New Orleans was arriving for their week-long architectural tour. One of my roles for Project Por Amor would be one of their tour leaders for their trips to Cuba and Iceland; this being my maiden training voyage. It would be a chance to participate as a first-timer on a PPA tour as well as bring my own experience hosting groups to the table (I’m marveling at how life experience as a single mother of four kiddos has also prepped me for such a role. Next to wrangling 12 hyperactive children at an LA Zoo field trip, traveling alongside 28 adults is a breeze!).

My amazing boss, owner and founder of Project Por Amor, Sage Lewis, set me up here at Casa Italia (above) so I could settle in and get to know one of their venues. This wasn't my first time to Cuba, but definitely the first time I enjoyed such luxury there. Seriously? Look at this pool area not to mention the spectacular rooms in this charmingly renovated old house. That being said, the jarring distinction between my opulent surroundings as a tourist contrasted against the Cuban reality you can glimpse just in the 30 minute taxi ride from the airport, does not escape me.

“Take note of what you like in the world”

— Unknown

Can’t throw a rock and not hit a doctor.

I've spent some time living amongst people who don't have access to the same things I often take for granted in the western world. Things like 25 choices of bread in the market (that's just at the small corner market in my town) or local drugstores with fruit-flavored antacids, bandaids, or those miniature bottles of mouthwash. My experience tells me that generally the more impoverished an area, the warmer and more joyful the people seem to be. I notice as well how my life in America, even in the multi-ethnic city of Los Angeles, puts me in real danger of broad generalizations about people. Familiar breeds familiar. The beauty of stepping into another country is there is no familiar to fall back on and I'm given an opportunity to confront the unconscious prejudice. I could maintain my notions or embrace the experience however it comes.

I discovered one of these such notions at my surprise at the number of well-educated and talented people everywhere I went. Granted, many of the places and relationships Project Por Amor has established are within the arts and educated communities, but I can't tell you how many people I found working jobs that someone with their education or skill would not be doing in the United States. The taxi driver who traded in his career as a mathematics professor, the attorney and the dentist who took jobs as chauffeur and nail technician respectively because they weren't making enough to support themselves.

Musicians perform at our dinner party at Kadir Lopez' Havana Neon art studio and gallery.

Some are fortunate enough to be working in their fields though, like artist Kadir Lopez who hosted our group in his neon studio/home (seen in the video above) where we dined on roasted pig and yucca while listening to jazz on a balmy spring evening. Kadir and Project Por Amor’s partner Adolfo Nodal restore neon signs in Havana which is reinvigorating pride and the aesthetics of many neighborhoods. I was fortunate enough to still be in Havana to visit a gallery opening of his neon work and hear the stories behind his masterpieces.

*Kadir’s homage to noteworthy figures featured in MLK signature and 3-D of Einstein's formula for energy (not pictured).*

*Private performance of La Camerata Romeu at the Basilica San Francisco de Asís*

Set aside my idea of sacred silence.

Inside the Basílica of San Francisco de Asis, right off the Habana port where colonists and trade merchants landed over 500 years before, I basque in the sounds of La Camerata Romeu, the first all-woman string orchestra in Latin America. Director Zenaida Romeu, seen pictured above, had to rework this ensemble group three times just this last year as these talented young women were being offered opportunities to perform abroad they just couldn't pass up.

Recent music video La Camerata Romeu made for their 25th Anniversary.

While La Camerata delighted us with works by Cuban and other Latin American composers, through the open door of the church tourists peer in to see what is happening, vendors vocalize their bags of “Chivirico” (a delightfully crispy, sweet treat) for sale, and a Cuban salsa band plays at a restaurant off the square. At first I am utterly annoyed at these unwelcome disruptions to my holy churchy moment, then found myself laughing at how ridiculous it all was. It was like Cuba was saying "I won't be contained in your neat experience with performance. I'm here and I will be heard in all my glory." I am confronted once again by my American sensibilities and warming to the Cuban way of life where both the exquisite and the disrepair, elegant fine art and brash laughter, coexist in this joyous cacophony of life.

Flan masterpiece

*By far the most common desert in Cuba is flan. This one at Paladar Los Mercaderes was my favorite with its caramelized sugar crown, cheese, mint, coconut, and guava accoutrement.*

Must love flan.

Project Por Amor knows how to dine. I ate incredibly well the whole week on this tour. Moros y Cristianos (cuban black beans and rice, because Moors/Muslims and Christians really can get along), yucca, lobster (Playa Vista in Cienfuegos was my favorite), octopus (I can't believe I'm admitting to this as I swore I wouldn't after seeing that documentary, but La Guarida had a lovely carpaccio and I was listening to rooftop jazz looking at the lighted Capitol building in the distance so how could I resist), and seafood risotto. El Del Frente hit this dish out of the park. A fun side note, this particular restaurant lies across the street from O’Reilly’s, where President Barack Obama visited on his trip to Cuba in 2016. When they needed a name for the restaurant they were opening across the street, what better name than El del Frente, "The one across the street".

And of course no dining experience would be complete without flan. It was nine times out of ten the dessert offered at every establishment, but the one pictured above at Los Mercaderes, where a local free diver and his wife decided to turn their family home into a restaurant, was by far my favorite with its caramelized sugar crown, cheese, mint, coconut, and guava accoutrement.

Private studio visit and performance of Mi Compañia Contemporary Dance Group by Susana Pous.

I started at 10.

I've done my fair share of toting kids to dance lessons, roller hockey practice, water polo, and track, in hopes that my investment would stick and yield the passion and skill to get them a scholarship or at least a hobby. Outside of a performing arts school or the ability to fork out the thousands to invest in private training, this wasn't something our public schools provided. My local grade school pays for a music teacher out of the PTA funds because there's no budget for this "elective". Not the case in Cuba, where every field of study, from doctor to dancer, is free. In fact, most of the talented artists I saw said they started their artistic journey at age 10. The dancers from Mi Compañia, directed by Susana Pous, pictured above as well as the young women I spoke with from the La Camerata orchestra, all told of their dedication, often skipping social activities to invest in their studies and practice. No wonder Cuba is producing talent that is setting the global stage in music and art.

*Studio visit with José Miguel Cadalso, who has dedicated his life to the trade of woodworking in Trinidad.*

A Trini in Trinidad.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw that Project Por Amor went to Trinidad, but little did I know at the time that Cuba had its own Trinidad that wasn't my ancestral home. However, since both islands were "discovered" and appropriated for the use of the Spanish colonists, both Trinidads have a bit in common. Trinidad, Cuba is such a well preserved window into what early life in the 1500's must have looked like, even down to the artisanry still being replicated. The photo above is José Miguel Cadalso, who has dedicated his life to the trade of woodworking. He shows off his two-year project working on the abanico behind him mirroring the designs found in the local church. His passion for his trade is palpable and he has our group on the edge of their seats despite the power outage that has our thighs sticking to the chairs. Such outages are common here so he casually forgoes the slide projection and pulls out his printed demonstration of his life's work without skipping a beat. Earlier that morning because of the apagón on this record hot day in April, I had left the group at an architectural lecture with a fantastic Trinidad historian and went in search of inexpensive fans. What took those street vendors an hour to weave, takes José many hours and sometimes weeks depending on the intricacy of the wood design. Once again we hear of Cuba's talent leaking from its borders as young people are unwilling or unable to stay.

The famous and historic Tropicana Cabaret still plays in Havana.

Viva Las Vegas!

I’m otherwise in bed by 10pm unless I happen to be performing with my band on some Saturday night. In that case I have no problem rallying for the long night of being awake and entertaining people (who after a few drinks seem to forget acceptable distancing during conversation). So after a full day of seeing historic homes (including Ernest Hemingway's dream hilltop home), sipping Mojitos while listening to Afro-Cuban fusion, and having one more extraordinary dining experience, I rallied to catch the world famous Tropicana cabaret show with about half our group.

You may have heard of the Tropicana in Las Vegas, but this is where Vegas began. Prior to the Cuban revolution Havana was the hub of anything goes boasting spots like this for elaborate shows, casinos, and brothels. These such places were frequented by the US mafia families. I didn't know much about the venue so when I entered the gardens then passed through the building to the outdoor seating that semi circles the stage, I was fairly impressed by how large it was. Of course we have the best seats in the house (that seems to be the norm with PPA) and though the $100 seat includes an entire bottle of rum for the table, sodas or water, I purchase a Piña Colada and I'm not sorry. It's a perfect night and I feel pretty (and witty and gay). The neon sign radiating above is one Kadir Lopez's studio (our neon friend mentioned earlier) recently serviced. Suddenly dozens of perfectly toned gorgeous humans emerge on the scene, live music guiding their every step. My face hurts watching them smile. I'm taking notes on the performance aspect, but I don't think I can pull off the headdress. I so appreciate their energy and it was totally worth seeing. Note: negotiate the taxi ride home because they quoted me a ridiculous price.

*Afro-Cuban rock fusion legacy band Síntesis performs at the amazing “Cuban Art Factory”*

Found a peanut…gallery.

La Fábrica de Arte was definitely a highlight of my time in Cuba. It reminded me of the tapas bar caves in Madrid I visited in the 90's, where I flitted from one cave to another trying pigs ear and tortilla accompanied by Spanish guitar amidst the crowds. La Fábrica is housed in an old peanut oil factory whose whitewashed cavernous spaces house displays of all kinds of art from jewelry to prints. People meander through the gallery, sip cocktails or find a couch to catch up with friends. A fashion show is being held on the main stage tonight, but there are several nooks throughout the expansive grounds with DJ's, art galleries, restaurants, and bars. I catch the video exhibition of LA based Japanese dancer Ogurí (collaboration facilitated by our very own Adolfo Nodal) and then head upstairs for the Síntesis concert blending African chants and rhythms with contemporary rock. La Fábrica founder and internationally acclaimed musician X, jumps in on bass with Síntesis alongside his parents who still perform with the band today. It's a magical night.

¡Adios, Cuba!

*Nothing pairs better than 1950s American convertibles and fresh Cuban cigars*

Qué quieres, cigarros?

It was a scene out of a bad B-movie, I leave the safety of the crowded restaurant laden alley to follow a man into a dark abandoned restaurant (I swear it sounds worse than it was and I wasn't alone) in search of acquiring some cigars to sample before I leave Cuba. A Cuban colleague had bought from him earlier that day, but it quickly turns into this shady looking, hushed up, psuedo-contraband drug deal. His compañero and another man appear from the recesses and pull out 10 varied boxes of cigars, from Fidel Castro's favorite Cohibas to the milder Romeo and Juliets I choose, favored by Cuban women or so I'm told. I pull out my cracker jack knowledge of rolling the cigar next to my ear to hear if it's dry and agree to the sale. Later that night after cruising through Havana with the group on a fleet of candy colored beautifully maintained classic cars, I savor my cigar and sip rum with a few of my new friends from this group. Company's often tout words like life-changing, and true my ideas about Cuba have personal meaning to me today they didn't have before, but another surprising thing about what makes this tour life-changing is the assortment of people who show up and travel alongside me. I consider so many of them friends after our shared experience. I notice a common thread in them as well as myself. We seem a breed of people who aren't afraid to try new things, step out of comfortable generalities; longing to know a place beyond its surface attraction. I’m grateful to have a job that presents me with opportunity after opportunity to broaden my own cultural horizons and connect me to so many charming and savvy people in the world.