It’s 1996. To everyone I know, I am living an enviable lifestyle: successful, well-traveled, prosperous, and I am having an undeniably glamorous moment.
Yet, like many in the city, New York in 1996 leaves me bereft. I am losing countless loved ones to the AIDS epidemic that is raging through the city. Combined with family trauma and an impending divorce, I am craving change.
The journey to Cuba is puzzling, yet inevitable. And what I will learn there will be rich, and what I will eventually take home with me will be life-altering.
Writing: The Cuba Project.
At the age of 36, I made the decision to move to Cuba, having no connections to Cuba.
I was a white, half Anglo-Saxon/half Jewish girl, born and raised in New York in a privileged white community in Connecticut, and at that time, traveling the world, and engaging in a lucrative career as a Senior Vice President with a coveted media company, ranked top in the world.
Yet, there I was, at packing my bags, wondering why Cuba, and why now.