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.



This story is based on an actual dream I had last night, it's been modified to fit this blog. 
  My late Deaf brother, Buster, loves spy stories, he borrowed a book, "Deaf Mole in the CIA," from a blind neighbor who lives in the same Manhattan flats, then an ASL student interpreter volunteer to translate the novel to life to obtain class credits.

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