|The hard work of vacationing|
At the time I knew nothing about tourism to Cuba and its cliches - how people spend a week at a resort and decide that Cubans are the friendliest people on earth and know the secret to happiness, that they want to live in Cuba, that they were born to salsa dance, that life back home feels empty and meaningless after the pure joy of a week in Cuba. I didn't know that it was par-for-the-course to fall for a cute member of the entertainment staff, a charming bartender, a sexy dancer. It wasn't that I was sheltered. I'd lived abroad in the developing world for a few years and knew that in such places on a bad day I was a passport, on a good day a wallet and on a great day an English lesson...but never just a person to be appreciated for my own distinct qualities. I knew that the world is full of hidden (and obvious) agendas. I just didn't know about the Cuban agenda.