Torn dollar bills, Palestine and Lightning in Cuba.

The cats need more kibble.

So I had time to kill during this last five hour blackout that just ended.

I Went to get a meal, ate it and then the restaurant refused my USD bill because it wasn’t in mint condition. This is a bigger problem for me than the blackouts. It’s the most annoying thing here, once you have a Yankee bill with even the little, tiniest tear in it? No one will take it, because the banks won’t take it from them. It’s annoying, but at least I know that won’t be a problem when I leave.

So I had to leave the restaurant-- who simply trusted me to come back, in part because Cuba is like that, in part because I had talked about the war with them last night and we all enjoyed watching American military bases burn, and probably also because they didn’t have much choice. I walked up to 23 to find a place to take a larger bill with no tiny tears on it.

I went into a swankier looking place that was quite busy. I ordered some colas and asked if I could pay with my bill, changed into CUP. Yes, and that was resolved very quickly with a calculator. I was leaving, when I saw a woman wearing a loose hijab and I suddenly had a flashback to two years ago while I was at the University.

All the Arabs I met there were Palestinian, and they were all medical students on a full free scholarship. After I tried to interrupt their meal and ask where she was from, I heard ‘Palestina’ and tugged on my futbol jersey I am wearing today. I chatted a little bit, not for long, but long enough to know she is a medical student here getting Cuban hospitality and solidarity as well.

She beamed at my sweater, almost seemingly relieved that the gringo was asking her questions for good reasons. She and her family are from Gaza. I made a broken Spanish little rant about how deathly important to the struggle Palestinian and Cuban unity is. She grinned, agreed and I kept touching at my heart in this moment.

I walked away from that moment more convinced of the need to defend Cuba no matter what the situation. That the end of one genocide must beget the end of the other. It is no accident that every single country that the Yankee Zionists are or have recently attacked all are anti-Zionist, anti-genocide and will defend the principles of humanity.

That’s why they come for all of us. They have destroyed the international order, the UN and so much more in the pursuit of a global genocide-- to protect the Zionist genocide. It really feels like such a bad plot twist for a movie too insane to be believed.

Earlier today? The Yankee Zionists attacked more hospitals; Their resisters attacked military bases. They attacked kids schools yesterday, and they murdered more of the leaders of Iran as well.

But I digress. Talking with the woman from Gaza I tapped my head, and said I was sorry for her family back home, but that the struggle of education is resistance itself. She fully agreed, while I put my keffiyeh back into my backpack (that I never wear traveling anywhere else). I tapped my head “Resistencia es aqui!” and we nodded warmly one last time.

As I walked down the street, I felt so profoundly human, so grateful that this magical place that knows she can’t do very much to ever pay back Cuba financially, or politically in any sense. Cuba is helping the country where doctors are targets grow a new generation of doctors again. Thanks to Narco Rubio, she is studying medicine from home on an unstable wifi connection.

And for this reason, Trump, Rubio, Starmer and Carney want to starve this place, where people are already needlessly dying in hospitals. The needed fuel coming from Russia-- 200 000 barrels of diesel-- turned off course today, nervous about Yankee seizure. They are willing to turn Cuba into Gaza, in part to punish Cuba for never, ever forsaking Gaza.

The world needs to get their act together on this as immediately as possible. Mark Carney is an utter disgrace-- he sanctioned that tanker only days ago. Specifically, as it headed to help Cuba. Don’t be fooled by that pittance crap of $8 million dollars. It’s both nothing and they won’t let it be distributed by the revolutionary state.

This situation here is maddening. They very best values of humanity are on constant display. It makes me proud to be a human, and deeply ashamed to be from north America. I was asked while I spoke to our friend from Gaza where I was from and I told the truth. They looked a little confused that a Canadian would be standing there with his heart bleeding solidarity attempts like that. I can’t blame them at all.

Sometimes the natural world does the poetic ending for you. Wandering back to the restaurant, I pulled out my little bag of cat food that I carry around here; I bought a bag in Bogota just before I got the plane. These cats had been trying to get some snacks when I ate, so I grabbed the ziplock baggie of dry kibble. I paid the restaurant, and the boss guy asked if I was annoyed. I said absolutely not.

Then I crossed the street where a light rain was now falling. The power has been out a long time, but lightning suddenly illuminated everything. I poured some food out for the very nervous street cats. They ate after I backed away. The lightning flashed, and it was as if the bolts hit the power grid as the street lamps began to glow and I realized I could come back here and type these words while they desperately wanted out of my fingers.

There is no greater human value than true internationalism, and there is no internationalism without solidarity in real time. I came up the stairs, came into my little Cuban flat here, and was so glad that the banks won’t take a $10 bill with even a tiny prick in it. That led me to wandering around in the dark, seeking change and finding the most powerful type of change there is. Real transformation.

Long live Cuba, Long live Palestine. Long live international solidarity.

And never stop being kind to the cats.

I love you, Cuba. So very, very much. This world doesn’t truly deserve you, but we can earn it in solidarity with you now. And we must.

We absolutely must.