Since my childhood I was told that Cuban ballerinas were the best in the world. As a retired acrobat born in a communistic country I had to see them perform for myself. It took me two trips to Havana to realise that vision. Instead of glamorous theatrical backdrops, exquisite costumes and first-world country privileges, these young women had to take a centre stage in the city of ruins living without reliable essentials like running water, electricity, food or any outlook for the future.