El Pan

In the quite mornings of Trinidad, Cuba the breadman makes his rounds. There are actually several breadmen. They walk, push home-made carts, or ride bicycles. Their routes criss-cross the narrow cobblestone streets. Their freshly baked breads are different and their calls are unique, but it usually includes one key phrase: “El Pan”.  As clear as a bell you can hear them coming:

“Pan … aaayyyy … paaaannnnn!”

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3 thoughts on “El Pan”

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