On a sunlit October afternoon in Madrid, the rhythms of salsa and Latin pop pulsed through Plaza de Colón as Gloria Estefan, the renowned Cuban-American singer, took the stage before thousands of fans. The free concert, part of the city’s official Hispanic Day celebrations, was more than just a musical homecoming for Estefan, now 67. It became a rallying point for messages of inclusion, diversity, and the enduring spirit of immigrants—a theme that resonated powerfully amid shifting migration patterns and deepening crises across the Spanish-speaking world.
Estefan’s return to European stages was marked by a vibrant display: a 16-piece band, a setlist spanning her decades-long career, and a sense of urgency in her words. According to El País, she declared from the stage, “We all know what immigrants contribute to the world. We are human beings, and we all want the same thing.” The crowd, waving Latin American flags, responded with cheers, particularly during emotional renditions of “Cuba libre” and her classic “Mi tierra.” The concert, promoted by Madrid’s regional government under Isabel Díaz Ayuso of the Popular Party, was a celebration of heritage, but Estefan’s pointed remarks about immigration policy also struck a chord—especially in a moment when debates about borders and belonging are as heated in Spain as in the United States.
Estefan’s message was not just political, but personal. She reminded the audience that her husband, Emilio Estefan, was welcomed in Spain before the couple settled in Miami, tying her own family’s story to the broader narrative of Cuban migration. The performance was further enriched by her daughter, Emily Estefan, who took center stage to honor iconic women in music and to openly declare, “I like women,” reinforcing the show’s inclusive spirit.
Yet even as Estefan’s concert celebrated the contributions and resilience of immigrants, events unfolding just across the Atlantic painted a more complicated picture for those seeking new beginnings. As reported by Fox News and the Associated Press, a caravan of at least 1,200 Cuban migrants set out from Tapachula, near Mexico’s southern border, heading not for the United States, as was once the norm, but for Mexico City. Their aim? Better work opportunities and, perhaps, a shot at a stable life away from the poverty, gang violence, and corruption that have become endemic both in Cuba and in Mexico’s southern regions.
This shift in destination is no small matter. According to a study by the Foundation for Defense of Democracies’ Center on Economic and Financial Power (CEFP), about 50% of migrants encountered across Mexico since January 2025 now say they are bound for Mexico, not the United States—double the proportion from the year before. Elaine Dezenski, CEFP’s senior director, told Fox News, “This suggests that increased US border enforcement and deportations are influencing migrants’ choices, with more seeking asylum and work authorization in Mexico instead of continuing to the US.”
The numbers back up this trend. Since former President Donald Trump returned to office in January 2025, US border encounters have plummeted to about 10,000 per month, down from the hundreds of thousands seen during Joe Biden’s administration. The Migration Policy Institute found that these encounters have dropped to their lowest levels since the 1960s. For many migrants, the United States is no longer seen as a welcoming destination. “Why would I want to go to the United States? They hate us there,” one Cuban migrant traveling with her children told El País. The journey to Mexico City is expected to take weeks, with migrants using social media to plead for residency and work permits from local leaders along the way.
Behind these shifting migration patterns lies a deeper crisis—one that is perhaps most acutely felt in Cuba itself. The island nation, once a magnet for nearly five million tourists a year, is now grappling with its deepest economic downturn since the Cold War. According to BBC, Cuba’s tourism minister, Juan Carlos García Granda, insists that “Cuban tourism is alive and kicking,” despite the hardships. Tourism, after all, is the country’s main source of foreign currency after remittances, critical for funding everything from energy infrastructure to basic food and medicine. But the twin blows of the coronavirus pandemic and harsh US travel restrictions—especially those imposed during Trump’s first term—have sent visitor numbers into freefall.
“We face obstacles none of our competitors do,” García Granda told BBC. The US economic embargo, along with 263 measures taken since Trump’s first term in 2017, have specifically targeted Cuban tourism, including a ban on US cruise ships docking in Cuban ports. The minister estimates that such policies have cost the island “another one-million tourists [a year].” A particularly damaging move came in January 2021, when the US re-listed Cuba as a State Sponsor of Terrorism (SSOT). President Biden briefly removed Cuba from the list in January 2025, but Trump added it back just days later, creating headaches for UK and European travelers who now face longer, more complicated US visa processes if they’ve visited Cuba since 2021.
With traditional allies like Venezuela and Russia facing their own economic woes, and China’s attention elsewhere, Cuba’s options are limited. The government has responded with ambitious hotel-building programs—most notably the towering Torre K in Havana, a $200-million project that has drawn mixed reactions. Some Cubans see it as a symbol of misplaced priorities, especially when blackouts are commonplace and many hotels sit empty. “I’d have used the money for other ends, for things we really need like dealing with the blackouts,” said Danais, a local student, to BBC. Still, García Granda argues that over 70% of Cuban tourism is based on foreign investment, and that more than 19 international companies are working to attract visitors.
Despite the criticisms, the tourism minister remains optimistic. He claims the government has halted the decline in tourism seen in 2024 and expects improved statistics in the second trimester of 2025. “We are going to fill the hotels,” he insists. “We are going to get out of this economic situation and tourism will play its part.” But as Cuba’s economic locomotive sputters, the frustrations of ordinary Cubans—who pass by gleaming new hotels while living with daily hardships—remain palpable.
Meanwhile, the stories of migration, resilience, and identity continue to echo across continents. Gloria Estefan’s performance in Madrid, her embrace of her roots, and her call for unity serve as a reminder of the enduring connections between Cuba, its diaspora, and the wider world. For the thousands who filled Plaza de Colón, and for the many more watching events unfold from afar, the message was clear: the struggle for dignity, opportunity, and belonging is far from over.
