Cuba
While the Christmas shopping craziness was getting underway here, I went to the anti-consumerism bastion during December. I spent a week swimming in a sea of vibrant people, places and sites that are like no other in the world.
This was my second time to Cuba. I went there in 2001 to film my documentary, Bloqueo: Looking at the U.S. Embargo against Cuba. That experience came full circle when the film was selected to show in Cuba’s Latin American Film Festival, an incredible showcase of world film. And this time, I was only behind a still camera, allowing me to better absorb this special place.
Not that we had much leisure time. Me and my co-director were constantly racing between different meetings with people, which allowed for a very intimate portrait of the Cuban experience. For every negative you hear about Cuba in the media, there are dozens of other things there that are special and inspiring. We got to see those achievements in health care, urban agriculture, and community programming up close.
(Shameless self-promotion—Bloqueo is a good overview of Cuba’s successes. Read more about it here.)
Climbing into the creaky plane, where perfume and rum are readily available for sale.
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Views of the lush landscape from the plane.
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The billboards and bikes are two of the many things that are different about Cuba.
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Look close and you’ll see a favorite pastime—staring out your balcony onto the street.
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Our pension faced this bright façade.
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Murals rail on U.S. policy, and deliver softer imagery.
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Colorful signs.
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Old cars of various vintages.
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The infamous icons really are everywhere.
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You see people trying to revive their vehicles everywhere, all day.
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Car repair is taught early.
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Coco taxis are an economical way to get around. They cluster around the tourist areas.
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Others commute by tractor, or catamaran.
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These mega buses, known in Spanish as camels, are characterized
by crowded conditions and spewing exhaust.
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Long lines for everything—the bus, changing money, ice cream—are
an omnipresent part of Cuban life.
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Crouching, standing, and staring.
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The capital buildings in Cuba and America are, ironically, based on the same design.
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Outside and inside the main university.
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Vistas.
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The malecon is a convergence spot for all ages and activities.
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Given its frequent use, it’s good thing the government has invested
millions in cleaning up the Havana Bay.
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A walk on the water.
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A beach in the classy Miramar area.
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Talking, pondering, and filming at sunset.
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Sunsets were often spectacular.
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Along the shore.
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Scenes from our trip outside of Havana to Veradero, a major tourist destination along the beach.
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The beach was an isolated paradise.
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Horse play.
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The real reason for our visit was the Latin American Film Festival,
an annual event that
takes over the city. Our
film was part of an amazing roster of global cinema.
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Hanging out downtown.
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Intimate conversations.
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A worker in a deli gives me a thumbs up. He eyed my camera enviously.
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Markets featuring fresh produce are common.
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You can’t get any fresher than this—a prolific garden run by just two men flourishes behind this tattered gate.
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The amazing bounty from two able hands.
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Another incredible garden project and its makers.
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A permiculture garden that grows good stuff in all kinds of vessels and on every imaginable space.
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Creamy cakes on the go are displayed—boxless—all over the city.
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This beautiful spread—including salad, tostones, pinnacle, guava juice, and yams—was appealing to the eyes and stomach.
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Happy families.
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Lunchtime at two community projects.
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My attempt at still life—breakfast crumbs and washed underwear.
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Little ones.
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A pre-school class.
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They were willing subjects.
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Watching all those school kids in Cuba’s distinctive uniform.
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Chess, checkers and dominos are beloved pastimes.
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This was at an open air space devoted to dominos.
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Garbage and decay kick around quite a bit.
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Being resourceful with the old and the new.
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Public art of different sorts.
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But the artistry was really everywhere.
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That grand old flag.
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