"Being born poor in Cuba was my advantage," with this phrase, the Cuban Mario Otero summarized in a podcast what sounds like a contradiction to many on the Island, but for him, it was the starting point of a story that now has him living in Miami, navigating the world of real estate and celebrating having reached his "first million" in revenue.
Otero, born in 1989 and raised in Centro Habana, shared on the YouTube channel Conversaciones en las Alturas that he grew up in difficult circumstances, but also within a "bubble of happiness" that his parents tried to maintain amidst the scarcity.
He remembered his childhood playing soccer barefoot, the chivichanas in the neighborhood streets, and at the same time, the image of a colonial house where "it rained more inside than outside" and the constant fear of a piece of the roof caving in.
Life changed abruptly for him at the age of 16 when his mother passed away. He recounted that this loss left him "with one hand in front and the other behind," and his father fell into alcoholism, forcing him to take on responsibilities early that, in Cuba, arrive unannounced.
Still, he managed to get into the University of Havana. But the shock, he said, was immediate: working for the State did not guarantee him even a “moderately decent” life.
In the interview, he spoke plainly about a reality that many Cubans are familiar with, which is hard to grasp for those outside the Island, as "one had to steal to survive." He described it as that daily "resolution" of survival in which, for instance, products or money are arranged to make up for what the salary falls short of.
The shift came through tourism and, later, from Airbnb. Otero recalled his time at the private restaurant San Cristóbal —known for hosting international figures, including Barack Obama during his visit to Havana— and his work as a guide for U.S. agencies during the "people to people" phase. With those earnings, he began to look towards real estate.
His first investment was a small apartment on San Lázaro Street in Centro Habana. He claims he put all his savings into it, about $15,000, and many told him he was crazy. It had no pool or view, so he became obsessed with the decor and with "creating the best Airbnb in Havana."
The first sign that he was on the right track, he said, was a reservation of around $1,000 for a long stay. That’s when he understood that through that door, he could grow.
Over time, in addition to managing his own spaces, he began to manage properties for others and educated himself with books and courses that a relative bought for him from Miami. As he explained, in Cuba he reached months where he earned between 5,000 and 10,000 dollars, a figure that stands in stark contrast to a country where the state salary barely covers the cost of living.
But even with a business running, he concluded that in Cuba "you have to live hidden," because thriving too much can also become a problem. Traveling outside the Island completely shattered his mental ceiling. "I realized I was in the wrong place," he remarked.
He emigrated to the United States with his family during COVID, entering from Cuba as a Spanish citizen, a process that is no longer allowed as it once was.
In Miami, the story was similar to many others, starting from scratch. He recounted working as a stock clerk, getting up at dawn, and that he eventually ended up cleaning Airbnbs, “ironically,” after having managed accommodations in Havana.
With residency and a work permit, he asserted that he decided to invest directly in the real estate sector: licenses, management, processes, automation, team. “If managing in Cuba is difficult, here everything is much easier,” he said, contrasting the access to resources, services, and being able to “resolve” without struggling for the basics.
In the conversation, Otero spoke about the moment he reached his "first million" in revenue and described it as a mental ceiling that, once broken, changes the way one views what comes next.
"The first one is the hardest," he stated, comparing it to learning to drive: at first, everything is frightening, but once the body 'memorizes' the path, the subsequent steps become inevitable.
Beyond money, he insisted on an idea he repeated several times: investing in knowledge. He mentioned that he will publish his first book, Master Airbnb from Scratch. As he explained, he wrote it with those in mind who cannot afford costly mentorships, especially in Latin America and also in Cuba.
His final message rested on one word: perseverance. He stated that he does not consider himself "smarter," but rather more persistent. And, as often happens when a Cuban looks back from exile, he returned to the starting point and that poverty that many curse, which he chose to turn into a driving force.
"They took so much from us," she assured, "that they even took away our fear."
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