Eurovision - There's no place like home

There is a loose-knit community of immigrants in Barbate, Spain. I've met most of them. I've encountered people from Morocco who crossed the Strait of Gibraltar to start their own businesses. There are the street vendors who hail from Senegal, Nigeria and Mauritania, who risked their lives crossing 500 miles of ocean in a wooden canoe to find a better life and to send money to their families. There is the family from China who opened Barbate's only Asian restaurant and have recently expanded their business here. There are my friends from Argentina, England, France and Ireland who came for whatever reason, be it luxury or opportunity.

One of my closest friends is from Cuba. He came to Spain five years ago with a very pregnant wife by "stowing away" on a transport ship. He came so his son wouldn't have to live under a dictator's rule.

We joke often about Castro, local politics and gripe about the bleak unemployment picture. We talk sometimes about going back to our respective countries and he asks me about the United States as an alternative to returning to Castro's Cuba.

I follow the Cuba situation because I'm a politics junky. He follows it on Cuban radio on the Internet because he has a more personal stake. He tells me he hopes this is the end of Fidel but thinks Raul is worse and it will be a long time still until Cuba sees some change.

My friend is going home to Cuba later this year. He's been talking about it for some time. He says it's only for a vacation. I joke maybe he should exchange his Cuban passport for a Spanish one so he could come back. Something about him says maybe he doesn't want to.

I suppose no matter how bad it gets home is still home.