Sunday, February 24th, the people of Cuba ratified the new constitution.
It was a slam dunk.
“Are you voting yes? I would ask my friends.
“Of course” was the standard answer that accompanied the astonished look that I received.
The whole campaign was preceded by months of propaganda. Signs, billboards, and community organizers all urged people to participate in discussions and share their concerns ….. before voting “yes”.
Most of those who did not favor the new constitution simply did not vote. There were scant few who voted “no”. Why take the chance of being singled out for retribution?
Voting places were set up according to one’s municipality.
School children were in their uniforms and helped.
As I understood it, there was not a secret ballot and anyone could check the sheets to see how their neighbor voted.
We were about half way from Havana to Vinales when our taxi driver slowed rapidly. I detected, almost instantly, the smell of coolant on hot metal. We had blown a hose.
Luckily, the hose had split right next to the clamp, so all that was necessary was to loosen the clamp, shorten the hose, and re-attach it.
Of course, we would then need to re-fill the radiator. That proved to be the hard part.
We donated all the drinking water we had in the car, but it was not enough.
We drove about a mile and stopped to ask this farmer where we could get water. He was grazing some cows and told us that there was water right under this bridge.
Our driver made two trips to the stream to fill the radiator.
The farmer enjoyed the show and had a good laugh.
He wore no shoes.
I asked him where his shoes were and he just motioned to the other side of the road. I hope he had some.
A typical walk for me starts without a destination and without an agenda. At the first intersection, I decide almost subconsciously, which way to turn. I might see some interesting activity in one direction. Or, I might realize that I haven’t walked a certain street in a while. Of course, if I encounter a street that I think I haven’t been on before, I’ll choose that option.
When I’m in the right mood, I like to walk very slowly, stopping often to watch and see what is happening around me. I wonder where people are going, what they are doing, what they are buying, and what they are talking about. I want to know where they live and how they live.
Sometimes I feel badly for them, but often times I am impressed with their openness and honest good nature. People always ask about one’s family.
I make eye contact with people, hoping for a smile, a nod, a wave, or a few words.
I’m never disappointed.
These images were all made in one typical afternoon in Havana.
Well, if you’re an eight year old boy ……
You can jump over puddles.
Float your flip-flops.
I mean when it really rains.
Put the top up.
Try not to hydroplane.
Wash your futbol.
Wash your hair.
Wash your motorcycle.
Collect water for the toilet.
Run for cover.
Continued from : A Tornado In Havana
Just down the street from Rolando, we met Jose who also wanted to show us the tornado damage to his home.
Jose had worked laboriously to remove all the rubble from his home, but we could see where walls were missing.
Many of the rooms were now open to the elements.
Continued from ” A Tornado In Havana”
Rolando saw us walking in the street and motioned to us. “Come into my home and see the damage”
He led us through his home where 12 people were living the night the tornado struck. Luckily, no one was injured here.
Most of the rooms were missing roofs.
Some of the rooms were missing walls that had been blown apart.
Things that were saved are now covered with plastic sheeting to protect them from afternoon showers.
Family members. Some still in shock.
Still managing to smile.