It was early March and the weather in Havana was lovely: warm, but not too humid, breezy in the mornings and with occasional rain showers in the early afternoon. The city was exactly as I had remembered it from a few years ago: noisy, colorful, full of light and life that seemed to have frozen in time. As I stepped onto the streets on the first day of my fourth visit, I was hit with a faintly perceptible nostalgia. The scenes so familiar from the past unfolded before me. Classic cars wheezed by, occupied by happy tourists and their stylish…