Nothing is worse than traveling to a distant country and seeing people queuing up at McDonalds or KFC or, yes, Starbucks.
You want to cry out to them, but in some ways, these American chains are considered exotic.
I must admit that, after traveling for a while, even I am tempted to go there because of the desire for the familiar.
In Cuba, I can’t scratch that itch because, blissfully, Cuba has no American brands or chains.
Of course, it has old American cars. Lots of them. Mind boggling numbers of them.
It also has Hollywood movies. The movies are pirated and then distributed through USBs in what the Cubans call “The Package.” Many Cubans learn how to speak English from pirated American movies.
But now, the worst of all American culture has finally reached its shores.
Uggh.
Drum roll .. . . the mobile phone and cell service have arrived.
Yes, I am happy the Cubans have finally joined the communications revolution and are able to access the internet (however limited coverage there is).
But. . .
The Cubans stand around staring at their screens just like the rest of us now.
One tour guide told us that Cubans would choose to have a new cellphone over food.
Another culture bites the dust.
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