My 5th annual Cuba trip began on a magical, mystical, well, at least, archetypal note, with Venus, Jupiter and Mars all lined up pointing east, and Popocatapetl (the ancient active volcano near M. City) belching out a black cloud as we pulled in to Mexico City from San Miguel, and a large fiery one as we flew out the next day.

It was the same weather story when we reached Jose Marti airport in Havana -- Cubans hunkered into their warmest available jackets and parkas, half of them sniffling and hacking with colds. It took me a couple of days to catch up, then I caught one, too.  Shuffling about the streets in my goose down jacket was another first this far south.  It did an empathy number on me though the Cubans seemed so much more miserable than me.

My resistance probably became low when I couldn't locate my girlfriend.  Besides my regular medical research, I'd come to see her and Cuba itself with it's out-moded communistic, repressive ways and secret police that didn't hold the attraction for me it had in prior years.  European tourists were all around.  Most of the hot musicians have now been relegated to the touristy bars and clubs of Old Havana.

Guess I've had a few colds over the years, but this was a zonker. I stayed in bed 'til Thursday. I finally got through to my sweet gal who'd been tending to her Mother in the countryside, another victim of this crazy cold wave. Of course the temperature never went below 40, but it was really something, here.

Though recovering, my energy level was hovering around zero plus 2 or so.  When my girl finally called me by phone, I had to tell her I was unable to travel to those far reaches, but I would pay her plane ticket to come to Havana for our reunion.

It’s hard to accept the occasional ‘apartheid’ working here in both ways (Cubans pay in pesos, 20x1, tourists in dollars, and it’s considered a crime for Cubans and foreigners to socialize except under certain conditions).  This time I at least saved $190.  She did it, hopping a plane in spite of her "... terror of the things," she explained to me later when we were alone. And when leaving to go back home a week later, she decided to return by train or 'gua-gua' (Cuban, for bus), “no matter how long it might take ....”

Havana is starting to shape up.  The trickle down effect from the tourist dollars is actually working as predicted by Fidel.  Roll over Ronald Reagan.  Paint began appearing this year and is making most of the difference. There's nothing more morose than beautiful architecture crumbling and going all rain-streaked and gray colored.

Every year there seems to bring another 180 degree shift. The tourist dollar has trickled down to the markets now, and every store is crammed with goods. A very few years back  it was even difficult to find toilet paper.

Cuban's are a happy and proud people, but surrounded by sad, gray, fungus streaked architecture isn't very funny. This scenario isn't helped by Castro’s banning of all incandescent bulbs (possession is a crime!) in favor of the stark coldness, and cheapness, of fluorescent ones.

On the brighter side, the alternative medicine clinics I regularly visit are becoming more popular.