I suppose, if my brother and I had become of age in Cuba, we would have had to learn to survive just like our generation left behind in the Island, had to do. As kids, we had already learned to keep quiet about the things our mom bought in the black market.
I remember one afternoon, when our neighbor Marino came over to hang out with us, he sat down and let out a sob and said, " Well, I just had some bread with a little bit of oil", and my brother who was about 7 years old at the time, responded, "Hum, at least you have oil!
I guess the saddest part is, that a people with so much spirit and rich history, have been reduced to scavenging for survival. Instead of building their country, writing, creating works of art, they fight for their next meal. This is the real legacy of communism; to break the human spirit, taking away people's basic needs so that they find it hard to think of anything else.