I just spent two weeks in Cuba from the 9^TH to the 23^RD of September and during my trip I kept a kind of diary, not just describing what I did but also writing down thoughts I had about social and political issues. At first, I intended to write exclusively in Spanish but whenever I felt my Spanish wasn’t good enough to allow me to fully convey what I meant, I switched to English and even sometimes to French. On this blog, I’ll just post what I wrote in the first two aforementioned idioms, which means you have to speak both to follow along. Not being a native speaker of either one of them, I probably made a lot of mistakes, especially in Spanish, so feel free to correct and to comment.

Viernes 9  de septiembre: Llegamos a la Habana con un poco de retraso pero sin problema particular. Ya habíamos llegado al aeropuerto Charles de Gaulle con retraso a causa de un accidente que ocurrió sobre la vía férrea entre Paris y Roissy (Cuando dicen “accidente” se trata a menudo de gente que intentan suicidarse, lanzándose al frente de un tren).

Mis primeras impresiones cuando salimos del aeropuerto: Muchas cosas me recuerdan mi propia isla, Guadalupe (el calor, la humedad,…)

Se continuará