In Havana the state has long forbidden the construction of mosques. Cuba’s Muslims usually pray in their homes, but I had heard rumors of a mosque built somewhere deep within the city. I searched for days to no avail. Locals answered me confusedly, directed me to churches. My search seemed destined for failure, until a chance encounter with a restaurant’s proprietor. I requested a dish with no pork, chicken perhaps. He asks “Muslimo?” I answer “Si”. I ask him about the mosque, how could I not? He immediately tells me to follow him and off we go through the busy streets. Twenty minutes, turning, sprinting, following this man, now guiding my quest. We arrive at a large iron gate, adorned with Moorish patterns. I was in awe as I witness the most modern designed interior of a mosque I've seen in over 2 decades. For a country that has been locked away and deprived, this house is made of complete love. I am eventually joined by two brothers, they ask me about America. I tell them of the luxuries, the cultural diversity, even about Disneyland. The crowd grows, the listeners enraptured. They tell me of their their lives, their struggles. I reassure them, the world is calling to Cuba, change is coming. They need look no further than the marvellous room in which they worship within.