How does it happen that two American touristas wandering the narrow streets of Havana get invited to sit and drink with average Cubans for an hour ?
First, we were in an area not frequented by tourists. (We might have even been advised not to be on this side of town.) We had cameras and gear bags and wore clean clothes so there was no denying being a tourist. Since the bar was open to the sidewalk, we were fair game when one man yelled “American”. I replied yes, turned, smiled, and walked in to shake his hand. Within seconds we were offered seats and were drinking beer. It took another few minutes for the “owner” and bartender to get comfortable with us being there, but once we were in, we were golden. I spread a few baseball cards around and C. used her Spanish skills and sense of humor to further engage our new friends.
Outside looking In
Inside looking out
Signing the wall