The last time I was in Miami, my friend Reuben told me that the strife between Cuba and its Cuban American diaspora is little more than one giant family feud that stems all the way from the highest circles. His statement actually makes a lot of sense when you think about it.

The Elian González case (pictured above) was an international custody battle that ballooned into an ideological war between political figures in Havana and in Miami. Vilma Espín, who fought alongside Fidel and eventually married Raul Castro, was the wealthy daughter of a Bacardi executive and company shareholder. Even…

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Transparency to Bank Confidently

Real-Time Notifications — Want to make sure your account is safe? N26…

I came across the above picture while scrolling through my Instagram feed the other day, and it stopped me dead in my tracks. The image was so paradoxically odd to me for a plethora of reasons. Even stranger, however, was the fact that it is currently on exhibit in El Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, the premier Cuban art institution in Havana.

The Coca Cola Company began operations on the island in 1906, making Cuba one of the first countries to bottle the soft drink outside of the United States. …

Humanity in Spanish is humanidad. Implicitly, it asks the question “What makes us human?” In the same way, cubanidad asks “What makes us Cuban?” Though we may not be able to put it into words, at some level we all understand what it means to be human & to have a human experience.

Similarly, as Cubans & Cuban Americans alike, we also understand what it means to be Cuban. We recognize the sense of camaraderie we feel with our Cuban brothers & sisters — the feeling of home that lives in a familiar acento.

My entire message boils down to…

Trapped in his mind, he built his own cell

A perpetual prisoner of his personal hell

A victim by choice, he wrote the narrative

Excuses, complaints, should have’s and what if’s

Going through the motions, day in and day out

Subsisting on a diet of poor self talk and pout

It’s a zombie existence, entirely contrived

There’s a difference between living and just being alive

Blaming others, he raffles off his power

Comfortably numb in his “walways me” tower

Pointing fingers from the top like a sniper’s scope

Displacement’s his drug, his preferred way to cope

It’s my wife, it’s…

The term Cuban-Chinese is by no means an oxymoron, but my friend Antonio Wong (pictured above) certainly is. Born in Havana’s Barrio Chino in 1951, he has been working at La Caridad Restaurant in Manhattan’s Upper West Side since 1986. A living, breathing paradox, Antonio may look Chinese; but he speaks Spanish exactly like my abuelo — in addition to English and Cantonese. But how did Antonio and the Cuban-Chinese people come to be?

It is estimated that from the period of 1847–1874, nearly 150,000 Chinese contract laborers were brought to Cuba in an effort to supplement the dwindling institution…

Natural shapeshifters, we conjure disguises

Alter egos, secret identities

Who we were yesterday &

Who we’ll be tomorrow

All one in the same, we are none at all

We are here, we are now, but that is not all

We are love, we are light

And to play is our call

But if we are so special

What’s the meaning of it all?

Our purpose is ours

That’s the beauty, after all

To enjoy, to create, we decide!

We’ve been given a gift

We need not ask why

We have limited time

So best use it wise

Not for wealth…