I never thought it would happen. When we flew to Dublin for my thirtieth birthday, the woman at TSA asked, "Is it a dream?!" Don't get me wrong--that was a great trip. But I think this is what she meant. A lot of things I assumed I would do in my life have disappeared from my route. But basically as long as I have had ideas about jazz, Spanish, American cars, or revolución, Cuba has been floating on the horizon like some kind of myth.
It doesn't seem well advised to try to make proclamations about Cuba at this point. Apart from my general geopolitical illiteracy, trying to describe "Cuba" after three days in Havana seems like blinking your eyes open in an exhibit and, on that basis, deciding to talk about the artist's life, vision, and technique. That said, we do have a quite limited supply of Havana Club, and I would be happy to talk about the island with anyone over mojitos, on a first-come-first-served basis.
It was delicious, sweaty, noisy, rhythmic, sad, and inspiring. I will never really be able to explain to you just how or why. So I suggest you find out for yourselves.
As our driver, Maykel, put it when offered chewing gum: "Para mi, es magnífico."
Love,
H (&D)
See the album here. (Tip: If you click the little "i" icon at top right, you'll be able to read captions. If you are interested in original resolution copies of anything or have questions, please let us know.)
