La vida real. That’s what I wanted to see when I visited Cuba. Real life. When I visit anywhere, actually. Alas, in order to travel to the Pearl of the Antilles legally, I had to go as part of a US State Department-licensed group, and our time and activities were scheduled morning, noon and (sometimes) night. On one of the free nights, I was traveling solo though Central Havana and met Hanoi, a Santería diviner, who guided me through the shadowy byways of his neighborhood, places unwise for a gringo to negotiate alone, especially at night. As we walked down one such calle, I could see a shining storefront ahead, a bright beacon in the darkness, a barbershop. Could I take a picture? Hanoi asked his neighbors, they were gracious, this is the result. ¿La vida real? Un poquito.
Judging from his expression, the customer fears the barber may scuff or soil those pristine white shoes at any moment.
ReplyDeleteWish I had been with you that night. Love your blogs about your travels and am envious of your photos. Really good images. Call when you are next in NYC. Judy Rich
ReplyDeleteHanoi? This is a priceless image. The adorable customer looks like a very young Manny Ramirez.
ReplyDeleteThe only other first-person account of Cuba I have worth mentioning is from an older friend who went there for an abortion pre-Roe/Wade. This image of a barber is ever so much more pleasant. I feel quite sure the customer, however pissed he may seem, was happier as well.
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