I, in my white (tropical) roman priest cassock, spoke with a thousand Cubans, mostly in Havana, and prayed with them, gave them miraculous medals, rosaries, a blessing, etc. All of them believe in God and are very well disposed towards the Catholic priesthood. None of them are happy with their plight.
Of all the images I might provide from that complex experience, I will leave you with one.
The first beach I visited was west of Havana in the Miramar neighborhood (at the "paradero" of the Bus P2: "La Concha" beach, right in front of "La Isla del Coco" amusement park).
Here is what that place is today. Followed by images of what it used to be.
This is where my dad learned to swim, in the 40's.
Havana alone has thousands of examples of such deterioration. Practically the entire city is like that, the wreckage of an imperial glorious past.
Except for cigars and rum, there is hardly any industry in Cuba, and all the people, except the king, are kept down to a minimal existence. It is a land of one king and 11 million slaves.
Cf. The Erstwhile Clubs of Havana
Cf. The Double Life of Fidel Castro, Sanchez, 2014.
Red Star Over Cuba, Weyl, 1960.
