Reseña del libro "Seven Days in Havana (en Inglés)"
This is a story of fate, hope, destiny, and self- realizations, uncovered while spending time in Cuba. I never envisioned that I would be drawn into something so deep, contrived and infinitely larger than I could ever have imagined. Here in Havana, at the Corner of Sanja y Soledad, I was staring at what felt like another crossroad. A place that might define the here and now, or a future yet to unfold. I wondered, why now? My diluted ideals or expectations of love, had been so off track. The love, I was made to witness was beautiful. It wasn't demanding, contrived, or measured. What I saw, was shared; giving, warm, and tender. It was unspoken yet loud, it was offered freely and reciprocated selflessly. More than anything it was clothed in innocence, and a purity of want. It was meant to last, and felt eternal! I never thought of love being electrifying, or becoming a contagious manifestation, that could weaken the strongest of souls. Yet, it was also one of those times in my life; where or when, I was made to realize or question, the true strength or ironclad conviction of knowledge. If or when, one is afraid to wisely wield truth from its scabbard, and talk as men. Where individual opinions and convictions, are affected or controlled, not by state, political association, but by self-imposed perception, and fear. I learned the appalling truth of the Embargo and felt ill at what I had uncovered; it's effects on a most kind but resourceful people, I had never paid much attention to the meaning of the word Embargo, I don't think anyone ever did. But, I would soon understand that what we were fed, and the true definition contained within the parameters of its composition, was meaningless, nothingness. How could it be? If we couldn't understand or grasp the true consequences of the action. If we couldn't see or feel the full weight, brought to bear and or associated with that word. What happened to the innocent; to men, women, wives, mothers, children, the poor and afflicted was, and is still unforgiveable.
