There is no breeze. It’s the middle of the afternoon. It’s hot and humid. It’s the tropics, after all.
I stopped to talk with three ladies selling “refresco” out of a huge blue tank on wheels. The colored and flavored liquid they dispensed resembled unset Jell-O or, to date myself, Za-Rex. People brought their own bottles and paid a few pesos for the sticky, sweet syrup.
Two of the ladies were fanning themselves. I said to the other woman that she also needed a fan. When she replied that she didn’t even have a fan at home, I half jokingly said “Let’s go. I’ll buy you one”. I could not image trying to sleep without circulating some air.
She immediately took me up on my offer. It was almost two hours later before we found a fan. We walked in a huge circle from the west end of Centro Havana to Old Havana and back before we stumbled on an out-of-the-way store that had new fans.
I thought she was going to cry when I presented the box to her.
Looking through her bag she said “I have nothing to give you, but please take my pen”
That pen now sits on my desk.
That pen reminds me of the struggles of every day life some people face.
That pen reminds me daily of how fortunate I am.
Shirts, no shirts
Shoes, no shoes
One shoe on and one shoe off.
It’s a hot and humid August evening in Centro Habana, but nothing matters to these boys when it comes to having fun playing fútbol.
They play across a narrow street in Centro Habana with open doorways serving as goals.
Balls bounce off walls and curbs, but the action doesn’t stop unless a pedestrian gets hit while sneaking past.
Landscapes in Havana?
You only have to know where to go and when.
Part 3 –
Meet The Family
Noel is the father of Yoel
Noel and his granddaughter Libetsy.
Repairing the child’s doll.
The three brothers, Yoel, Jorge Luis, and Juniel with their father.
I kept thinking of “Bonanza”
Imara is the wife of Juniel and Dianelis is Yoel’s sister.
Juniel and daughter Libetsy.
Imara and Libetsy.
Dianelis prepared congris over a charcoal fire.
Lunch – Fried chicken, congris, aguacate, cucumbers, yucca, fresh guava juice.
I never know what activity I’ll find on Calle Salud in Habana Centro.
These gentlemen were preparing to re-silver a mirror.
On a recent trip to Havana I got to observe firefighters in action.
I heard the sirens and adjusted my camera to catch the action as the trucks raced past. To my surprise, however, the bomberos stopped right where I was. The street was under construction so they hustled the rest of the way on foot. It turned out to be only a small paper fire in a ditch probably caused by a discarded cigarette.
Here’s my interpretation of the people and color of Centro Habana.