On no other trip have I ever interacted with so many locals, and on no other trip were locals so honest and excited to share their thoughts with me. For my first night, I booked us a Food & Culture Tour with a couple named Maryla and Ricardo. Maryla is a sweet orthodontist and Ricardo is a talkative photographer, both of whom make more money leading these tours than from their actual careers. I drank the best mojito of my life—blended and using spearmint instead of mint—discovered frituras de malanga (my new favorite dish!), and ended the night at a cute coffee shop. However, the highlight of the tour was discussing the pros and cons of Cuba, why some Cubans leave and why some stay, and what needs to happen for their country to function properly. Only about 25% of Cubans have the ability to leave, either with the help of family abroad or by selling off their entire life to gamble with emigration. Maryla and Ricardo explained that everyone, even the government, relies on the black market. For example, because WiFi is so hard to come by, Cubans created something called “The Package”: 4 terabytes of pirated media for 1 CUC/week. Cubans sometimes get access to movies before Americans do. By the end of the tour, Maryla and Ricardo felt like old friends, and they actually helped me book another tour a few days later with their friend. Everyone in Cuba knows someone who knows someone who could be useful.

I took salsa lessons on my second day. A young Afro-Cuban led 5 of us to a dance studio in Central Havana and taught us a few basic moves. After class we had lunch at Dos Pelotas, where $5 lunch portions were so large that we were able to eat our leftovers for dinner that night. The meal was better and cheaper than any meal you can get in touristy Old Havana. Afterward, my instructor took us to a juice shop that makes incredible coconut batidos (smoothies). Locals bring in their own plastic bottles and have them filled up. I tried to return a few days later to buy another coconut batido, but apparently they only take CUP—the local currency—so these are technically unavailable to tourists! I was devastated.

Still in a dance mood, I decided to see a ballet a few hours later. Ballet is huge in Cuba. Ballet Nacional de Cuba is the largest ballet school in the world, and my ballet company in Hawaii used to fly in Cubans to dance with us during our summer intensive programs. Those Cuban ballerinas always put us all to shame. Coincidentally, there was a performance that very night, costing only $30—and even less for locals.

The next day, I was picked up in a teal ‘57 Chevy and driven 45-minutes away to San Antonio de Los Baños, where I learned how to cook typical Cuban food. My host, Alejandro, taught the tour group how to make Cuban-style pork tamales—which are boiled instead of steamed and are much wetter than Mexican tamales—tostones (fried smashed plantains), frituras de malanga (fried shredded taro root), and tinto de verano with crushed pineapple. We then packed up everything into his car and drove a few minutes to the Ariguanabo River to have a picnic. Alejandro made some mojitos as I savored my meal. After lunch, we took rowboats out to what felt like an entire river to ourselves. Obviously, this was my favorite day of the entire trip.

Another guide picked me up the next morning and drove two hours to tobacco plantations, where I rode horses through the plantation and learned about cigars, rum, and coffee. Cigars are like wine; it’s all about the terroir. Soil, climate, and weather make all the difference, and every cigar maker has their own style and traditions. When the U.S. imposed a trade embargo against Cuba in 1962, many former Cuban cigar manufacturers moved to other countries (primarily the Dominican Republic) to continue production. But any cigar connoisseur can taste the difference -- the fertile, iron-rich red soil of this region produces a longer aftertaste and unique flavor. Just fyi, the U.S. allows Americans to bring back up to $100-worth of cigars from Cuba.

I then tried Guayabita del Pinar, a rum that is not allowed to be exported, and even tourists can only purchase two bottles max. In this region, there’s a particular tree whose berries are tiny guavas about the size of a blueberry. The rum is infused with this guava, and it’s probably the only rum I’ve enjoyed sipping straight.

On my last full day in Cuba, I took a 3.5-hour walking tour with an economist named Jorge. It was my most informative and interesting tour yet. I met Jorge in my favorite neighborhood of Vedado, where we hopped onto a public bus into a less touristy neighborhood. Here's a snippet of what I learned:

The average salary in Cuba is $40/month, which no one can live on. Between the 1960s and 1980s, there were ration cards that were enough to supplement the low salaries, providing food and other necessities. People often forget that Cuba had been doing pretty well back then, up until the collapse of the Soviet Union. That changed everything. Now, it’s impossible to live on the salary and ration cards because the ration cards have covered less and less. Pretty much every Cuban has a “surge” (side hustle): Doctors take off work to do house calls, teachers cancel class to do private tutoring, and taxi drivers skip out on their last shift to sell the fuel. Cubans know how to hustle.

Very few people can completely retire because the pension is only $10/month. Unsurprisingly, the suicide rate for old men who cannot work is on the rise. Most retired people do things to supplement their pension, such as selling snacks or mending clothing.

When I wanted to buy a bottle of water, Jorge took me to a huge state-run mall, but none of the shops had water! We eventually found it at a new private store a few blocks away. That is the difference between state-run stores and privately-owned stores. Jorge explained that when stores claim a product is “out of season”, Cubans just ask around because someone will know someone who has what you need, and this is where the “surge” comes in again. When Jorge needed a new mattress, none of the stores had it, so he asked around and eventually someone found one for him. Jorge ended up paying more than he would have at the store, but the mattress was delivered straight to him and, mostly importantly, it was available.

The crumbling buildings that tourists find so charming about Havana are dangerous and have collapsed onto children recently, killing them. However, the government can’t do anything about these buildings since they’re private property usually passed down through generations; meanwhile, homeowners can’t maintain them since their salaries are so low.

The tour ended at Jorge’s abuela-in-law’s home, where she made snacks and offered her opinions. She lived through the Cuban revolution and remembers everyone being excited about it, but she is not a supporter. “Batista never took anything from us. Castro took everything from everyone.” Because she was privileged and lived in Havana, her parents had jobs and owned a second house that they would rent out. After the revolution, the government took that house away and gave it to people who needed a place to live. Jorge clarified that hers is one perspective. His own family is from the countryside where everyone adores Castro because their lives improved after the Revolution. Before the Revolution, no one in the countryside had doctors, hospitals, enough schools, or utilities. Castro gave them all of that. In the countryside, the revolution is revered, while in the city, it’s much more mixed.

The amount of information I learned from Jorge was overwhelming. If you want to visit Cuba to actually learn about Cuba, you must do this tour. Sure, Cuba has gorgeous beaches and photogenic architecture, but what makes Cuba so unique—why Cuba is the only place in the Caribbean that I’ve ever had an interest in visiting—is its people. Every single person I met was way more aware of their circumstances than the majority of Americans are of theirs. Cubans are extremely educated, honest, open, and appreciative that we came to visit, despite our country’s blatant discouragement.