HAVANA TIMES – The first time I thought about the possibility of leaving Cuba was in 2016. I remember it was night, and I was swimming in the pool of the Hotel Panamá after completing the day’s tight schedule during one of the trips I made as an independent journalist to the Panama City.
In reality, I didn’t even seriously consider it. The idea was dismissed for a bunch of reasons that, at that time, weighed heavily enough.
The following years brought new trips, while Cuban reality deteriorated irreversibly. Every return to Havana meant coming back to a society that seemed designed to invalidate me, underutilize me, and humiliate me.
It reached a point where I fantasized too much about that pool, which symbolized a clear and illuminated life in a country where my t
