A Morning Encounter: "I was on my way home from dropping someone off at the airport, driving down a street near our house. There's a vehicle coming towards me in the opposite lane. It's one of those adult size tricycles and there is stuff hanging on it.
As it gets closer, I see that the rider is an elderly black man, and that the stuff is flags and photos. Just as we pass each other I realize the flags are Cuban. 'Shit' I think, I have to talk to this guy. So I drive around the block to head him off. I pull up next to him and stop.
He's very weathered looking and has rap in español blaring from a stereo hanging on the handle bars. He has photos and Cuban flags decking out his bike.
'Hi, are you from Cuba?' I ask. He gives me a slow hard look and takes off in the opposite direction. I'm sure he thinks I'm crazy. Why is this blonde in a SUV following him?
I make a U-turn and pull up along side him. He stops and looks at me, turns off the stereo and gives me this defiant look. Are you Cuban? I ask. No response, just that hard look.
'¿Es usted Cubano?' I try. Finally a response, he nods. A small nod, and he's still giving me that hard look.
Now I'm wondering, what the hell was I thinking following this man? 'Viva"