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In 2018, a simple Google search of the word, “Cuba” led me to these headlines. “10 reasons why you should stay away from Cuba.” “Revisiting Cuba’s communist legacy as the US opens door to trade.” “Crime increases as gates to Cuban trade open.” Partnered with these headlines were horrific stories of war, crime, and hardship. I imagined the danger when I booked my trip to Havana, but anything felt safer than the thoughts that were circling my mind. The purpose of this trip was to realign with my inner truth after a very difficult year. A few clicks and nine months later, I landed in a territory that had been relatively unexplored by the world for over half a decade. The air was thick with cigar smoke, but the smell was masked by the Cuban cuisine that surrounded us. The buildings dipped in pastel were beaming with life as Cuban locals bustled about their day and old school cars whizzed past us with no concern for human life. We hopped off the boat and were bombarded with women desperately selling goods. One woman glared at us so intensely I could feel her eyes stabbing the back of my head. She followed us violently screaming, “America! America! America!”. Immediately, the news articles came to my mind. Was the media, right? Could this place be as dangerous as they describe? We ran quickly to the nearest cab in an attempt to escape. My friends were alive with excitement as we drove off to our first excursion. I, on the other hand, could not stop thinking about my panic as a result of the encounter with the woman on the street. Our excursion was a course in cocktail creation from local bartenders, Yuri and Julia. We walked into the small home speckled in bright colors, 50’s American décor, and pictures of Fidel Castro at every turn. Yuri was a young Cuban man with a joyful face. He spoke little English, but no matter what was said he greeted each person with a deep nod and cheerful smile. Julia, on the other hand, was an older, slender Cuban woman whose smile stayed in a displeasing slit. She showed no emotions. As we walked in the door, Yuri greeted us with a smile. Julia gave us a stern look and said, “Hurry, you are late!”. Julia set upright in her small chair and proudly stated, “Fidel Castro was a great leader and a great man!” A wave of discomfort crept up my neck. All our lives we heard that Fidel Castro was a threat to our lives in America. Yuri stepped in to begin our lesson. Together, they spoke of the rich history of Cuba, the wartime, and of course Fidel. I could feel their pride as they showed us the variations of rum and the local method of smoking Cuban cigars. Dipping our cigars in espresso and rum in the Cuban tradition, we sat in awe of their stories of the fight for liberation. After our history lesson and a few cocktails, I mustered up the courage to ask our hosts, “Do you hate Americans?”. Julia’s eyes began to swell with water. Her face displayed a puzzled look as she said, “We love Americans. With gates open, we now have new sources of jobs that have helped our people. When Obama came to Cuba, we flooded the streets to celebrate. We have a new marketplace to share our ideas and culture with the rest of the world. All we want is to be free like your mothers and fathers wanted for you. My eyes began to swell with water as Yuri announced in glee, “In true Cuban tradition, let us end with a dance.” As we left, I looked up to the buildings, I saw children playing, waving and yelling “America! America!” I waved and smiled as I replayed Julia’s words and the scene with the woman in the marketplace. I had found the truth I had been searching for. When we dare to look beyond the headlines, we will find hate is systemic, but love is universal.