I’m writing these lines sitting on the floor of the boarding room of José Martí International Airport, Havana, Cuba. There isn’t a single empty seat and the passengers, agitated by the next departure of a flight that will take me back home, to the other home, in Mexico, walk around me and they will see me, I think, as a strange object, like a cockroach that got stuck in the crowd without knowing where to go. Sometimes this is how I feel in Cuba. The flights and the movement of people have grown considerably in the last two years. That is one of the things that have changed.... Most of them haven’t changed at all. More tourists come today, attracted by the revolutionary Cuba that so many passions and idylls awoken on the planet since always, and still. They fear that one day they will arrive to that which Carpentier called "the city of columns" and they will find a McDonald's behind the foam of the waves of the sea, and that "the dream" has come to an end. More Cubans also leave and enter. They can now travel and many don’t care too much about "the dream." Most of...