Although Americans tourists are banned from entering the country, I went under the journalism category.
It's only an hour flight, Cuban visa can be bought during check-in at the airline counter before departure, just don't forget your passport. I exchanged dollars into their convertible  (CUC) pesos upon arrival. I stayed at an hostel next to the baseball stadium. I focused on videotaping their culture alone rather than being somewhat biased traveling group with their hectic schedule. One day took a Soviet era Lada taxi to outskirts of Havana to visit a Deaf school. They asked me what we Deaf Americans do with our obsolete TTY as we are using VP nowadays, hopefully some organizations will donate those equipment. I felt like was blasted into the past, surrounded by all those vintage automobiles.



A Deaf man in Georgetown died in a freak accident while planting a tree in his backyard. As he started to dig, his friend reminded him that he better call "Diggers Hotline" before he goes any further. "We get our power overhead...," ignoring his friend's warning. He then fell through the hole he just dug, as he was getting himself up from the tracks below, he saw the bright light approaching, was killed instantaneously by a Metro subway that ran over him. 

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