I looked up into the thick Havana air at the brightly-lit poster on the wall of an old, stone government building.
Viva Fidel 80
The old revolutionary was somewhere in this town in a compound contemplating his retirement announcement, which would happen just a few days later on my last day in Cuba.
The old man didn’t really even make it out for his 80th birthday celebration, and his thin and frail image on television barely registered in a country where his black-bearded and green fatigues image is as ubiquitous as the Cuban flag. Continue reading Fidel
Borderlands are dangerous places.
No matter what their topography or economic value, they are desirable, for one reason or another, to both sides in any conflict.
Borderlands tend to be small, which means they don’t often have a significant population. And whatever population there is tends to be insignificant to the larger conflict.
Sometimes borderlands are a much bigger deal.
Continue reading The Borderland