Thanks MA. The problem with me talking about Cuba is that I can't stop. It's our passion. It started about 15-20 years ago when hubby's two brothers (and wives) used to go. The two brothers decided one day to take a taxi as far as the road would take them, and ended up stopping at a teeny tiny hovel where an old man sat outside on the verandah. In those days it was fairly dangerous for Cubans to be seen talking to tourists outside of the resorts, but this old man didn't care. He only spoke Spanish and the two brothers only spoke French, but somehow they communicated together, and a solid life-long friendship was born that day. The next day, hubby's two brothers went back with some sweaters, towels and socks because they had noticed that the old man was cold. That was how it all began.
One of hubby's brother has since died, but many of his family continue to go every year and bring as much luggage as we can afford to bring...and we return with almost nothing. We take everything you can imagine that will fit into a suitcase (sometimes more...one year my BIL brought a wheelchair and another year a baby stroller!) Over the years that old man's family has grown into an entire village, so we try to bring a small useful gifts for each person - hot wheels for the children (the girls prefer them to anything else we bring), little dolls for the girls who don't want hot wheels, skipping ropes, yo-yo's; sewing kits, toothbrushes, underwear, crank flashlights, socks...our bedroom is packed from floor to ceiling and wall to wall with shopping bags full of these little gifts, most of which the Cubans are not able to buy there even if they had the money. Things as simple as needles and thread, cosmetic pads, good quality toothbrushes and watch batteries are greatly appreciated.
I've said it before, I believe that God puts a spark in each of us for something. For some (like Chatty) it's animal welfare, or a passion for building wells in Africa, or baking/cooking for the soup kitchen down the road...each of us has a spark for a wee corner of the world, ours is for this teeny tiny patch of Cuba. The village where we visit isn't even on most maps, it's at the end of a washed-out, often impassable dirt road. Many of the houses look like piles of old boards nailed together. But inside those hovels live the most loving, kind, delightful people we've ever met, people who are poor and in need of everything, and yet who will cheerfully and without hesitation give you the shirt off their back, or their last morsel of food if you needed it. To give you a recent example, it costs a Cuban about $20 per MINUTE to phone us here in Canada. The day after my surgery, our friends - our very poor friends - pooled together their sparse resources and phoned my husband to find out how my surgery had gone. They live love. I have so many other examples of this unconditional love that would make you weep, they're so beautiful.
We don't involve ourselves in the politics, we simply love these people, who are more family to us than our own blood families are at times. We just want to help in whatever little ways we can until the time comes when they will be free and financially able to help themselves.
Like I said, it's dangerous to ask me about our trips to Cuba!
_________________________
When you don't like a thing, change it.
If you can't change it, change the way you think about it.
(Maya Angelou)
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