Cuba Needs You Now More Than Ever
There is a particular quiet that settles over Havana some evenings now, when the power dips and a block goes dark for a while. Neighbors step outside. Someone brings out a guitar. Kids keep playing in the street by the light of a phone or a candle on a windowsill. It is not the Havana of a decade ago, and it is not without its hardships. But it is still, unmistakably, Havana: warm, resourceful, alive.
Cuba is going through one of the harder stretches in its modern history. Fuel is scarce. The grid is unreliable in places. Basic goods that used to be simple to find now require patience, more money, and no small amount of ingenuity. None of this is the fault of the people who wake up every morning and meet it anyway: the fisherman mending his boat before dawn, the abuela stretching a week’s rations into ten days, the young father polishing the family’s 1955 Chevy he has kept running through sheer will for decades.
We have spent years photographing that spirit, and it has never once looked like despair. It looks like a barber’s steady hand, the color a family chooses to paint a crumbling wall, a stranger handing you the last of what they have because you are a guest in their home. Our Cuban friends, some more than others, are making do. The news back home tends to run hotter than the reality on the ground: these are trying times, without question, but they are not the crisis the headlines sometimes suggest. Cubans have never needed anyone to teach them resilience. If anything, they could teach the rest of us a thing or two about it.
Resilience, though, is not the same as being fine. And this is the part that matters most: right now, more than at almost any point we can remember, the Cuban people need the rest of the world to show up for them, not turn away.
Cuba Now
This is exactly what Support for the Cuban People travel was built for. Every dollar we spend moves directly into private hands: the casa particular where you will sleep, the paladar (restaurant) where you will eat, the driver who will take us from Havana to Viñales and back. None of it touches state-run hotels or government tourism infrastructure. It is a direct, legal, person-to-person exchange, and it is one of the few forms of meaningful support Americans can offer right now.
We would never bring a guest somewhere we believed to be unsafe, and in practice, our guests barely notice the grid at all. When we’re outdoors photographing in the golden hours of morning and late afternoon, electricity isn’t part of the equation. Every private casa we use has a generator and/or a state-of-the-art solar and battery backup system, so even when the neighborhood dims, our casas keep their lights, fans, hot water, and even sometimes the AC running. Our transportation partner, whether it’s a beautifully restored classic American car from the 1950s or a newer vehicle, keeps fuel reserved specifically for our tours. The paladars we dine in continue serving some of the freshest, most inventive food anywhere on the island. And American, Delta, and United still fly multiple times a day from Miami into both Havana and Santiago de Cuba.
No Over-Tourism In Cuba
There is also, honestly, a rare gift hidden inside this difficult moment. Cuba right now is not the over-touristed island of years past, crowded with cruise groups and tour buses working a well-worn circuit. It is quieter. More open in its welcome. Fewer visitors means more room, more time, more real conversation with the people who make the island what it is. And that translates to wonderful people, portrait and street photography.
For An Authentic Cuba
The Cuba we photograph today, the faces, the streets, the late light on the Malecón, feels more honest than it has in a very long time, because the people who remain are the ones who chose to stay and build a life inside the difficulty. We are not just documenting a beautiful place. We are documenting a singular chapter of Cuban history as it is being lived, day by day, by people who deserve to be seen clearly and treated with dignity, not reduced to a headline. Photographing that, and traveling there in a way that puts money directly into those same hands, is one of the most meaningful trips you can take.
Over the years, we have run more than 80 Support for the Cuban People photo and cultural tours, and brought hundreds of Americans to Cuba legally, safely, and unforgettably. I still make the trip three or five times a year just like in the past, camera in hand, gathering the stories that became Vanishing Cuba, and I keep going back because the island and its people keep giving me reasons to.
Book 2027 Now
We are currently taking group bookings for 2027. We also offer private tours for individuals and small groups who want a more personal, tailored experience.
If you have ever thought about going to Cuba, this is the moment. Not despite what the country is going through, but because of it. Our Cuban friends will welcome you the way they welcome everyone: with open arms, strong coffee, and stories that will stay with you long after the trip ends.
Feel free to reach out for a call or on social media. Let’s talk about what a trip to Cuba in 2027 could look like.
— Michael Chinnici, photographer and author of Vanishing Cuba
Vanishing Cuba, November 14-22, 2026
Vanishing Cuba, January 9-17, 2027
Vanishing Cuba, March 13-21, 2027
Vanishing Cuba, November 13-21, 2027
May all who come as guests… leave as friends®
