ABSTRACT
Three weeks later, David stepped from the Cubana de Aviacion turbo prop passenger plane onto the tarmac at the José Marti International Airport outside Havana. September had arrived, somewhat alleviating the oppressive heat of the summer. Still, coming from the coolness of Mexico City's high plateau, David was unprepared for the afternoon's enervating humidity and heat. He was perspiring heavily before he even reached the terminal building.
