Cantor Eric Moses led a delegation from his synagogue to Havana, Cuba, this month. (photo from Beth Sholom)
Earlier this month, I traveled to Havana with a delegation from Beth Sholom, the Toronto synagogue where I serve as cantor. Together, we represented the first Canadian Jewish group to visit the island since 2019. Travel to Cuba has been complex and unpredictable for some, but our mission was simple – to support the Jewish community in Cuba and remind them that they are neither forgotten nor alone.
The island nation continues to face an unprecedented and protracted crisis. There is a shortage of nearly everything, most notably fuel. Gas stations, if open at all, have hours-long lineups. Illicit WhatsApp groups gouge desperate consumers for the little gasoline that remains. Electricity is out for 12 to 14 hours each day. Medical supplies are scarce to nonexistent. Surgeries have been canceled, public transportation suspended and schools closed. Along the highways, people stand with wads of Cuban pesos, hoping someone will stop and offer a ride. And yet, despite these hardships, the small but remarkably resilient Jewish community has not lost hope.
On Friday evening, we arrived at Beth Shalom Synagogue, locally known as the Patronato, before Shabbat for a briefing with the community’s vice-president. Moments into her remarks, the lights went out. There was no panic, no drama. She calmly pulled out a few flashlights and continued speaking, as though nothing unusual had happened. She then guided us through the synagogue’s modest pharmacy, where scarce medical supplies are distributed not only to Jewish families but to the broader community as well. We were proud to have brought generously donated supplies from pharmaceutical distributor Kohl & Frisch and members of our congregation – though we knew it would not be enough.
As I entered the sanctuary for services, my contact, William Miller, pulled me aside. “Eric, we have enough generator power for about 20 more minutes.” That meant the Shabbat dinner we had sponsored would likely be served in the dark and with cold food. Again, there was no panic, just another fact of life in today’s Havana. (Our group had helped purchase that very generator during a visit in 2008.)
Our time on the island was filled with meaningful encounters. We visited all three synagogues – Orthodox, Conservative and Sephardi – participated in hands-on volunteer activities and spent time connecting with community members. We toured the Jewish cemetery, the Holocaust memorial and museum, and visited shut-in seniors during a power outage. We visited the Canadian embassy and heard from the ambassador and her team about Cuba’s precarious future. We found brief moments to experience Havana’s incredible charm, including a ride in a classic car, the taste of a mojito and the sounds of Cuban music.
By the end of the trip, our group of 16 left Havana feeling enriched, united and deeply humbled. On Friday night, the entire service was led by the youth at the Patronato – a powerful testament to the community’s commitment. I was honoured to address the congregation and shared a simple reflection: in Canada, we have almost everything, while they have almost nothing; yet they possess something we can learn from, a profound sense of pride, spirit and the determination not merely to survive, but to thrive again. One taxi driver summed up the mood of the country when he told me, “We are in a dark tunnel without a way out.” But we were welcomed with open arms and open hearts.
We departed on Sunday evening on what felt like the last fumes of jet fuel, just hours before Air Canada and WestJet announced the suspension of flights. Those who remain behind do not have the option to leave. They continue to live with constant uncertainty, navigating daily hardships while carrying the weight of more than six decades of a revolution that has failed to deliver on its promises. And yet, the Jews of Havana remain determined, resilient and passionate about their heritage and their future.
Eric Moses is the cantor at Beth Sholom Synagogue in Toronto.