Trumpets, guitars. Smiles, blue skies, lime-green, azure-
blue ocean of gentle waves, white sand at Santa María.
Where ‘you going, chica?
One dollar, across town! One dollar for you,chica.
International Film Festival
where RAMOS DE FUEGO
bursted out of the screen enveloping our senses.
International Jazz Festival
that united under the stars notes from the United States,
RITMO CALIENTE, with sounds from Canada, Japan, Cuba.
Figueroa’s apartment transformed into a
PHOTOGRAPHER’S ART GALLERY
where Che Guevara in black and white
by Korda is alive and well on 17th Street
between K an L in Havana, Cuba,
The oral tradition lives on
at EL HURÓN AZUL where a man mesmerizes us
reciting a story full of body language, facial expression,
intonations rich in emotions. He tells us: Once upon a
time there was a GREEN man who was looking for a GREEN house.
When he found it he knocked on the GREEN door that was
opened by a GREEN woman... And on and on. Then a nine
year old girl tells us a story. Then a woman. Then another man.
Juicy, tasty papayas, plantains are found at the corner stand on
18th Street corner with K where we sat on the low wall of the house
across theway and ate tearing the fruit with our fingers.
Your people’s well done brown, black skin glistens in the sun,
the same under the moonlight.
And the trumpets blare, the guitar moans and the singer cries
at EL GATO TUERTO across the Park under the full moon where
we danced till 4 in the morning. I close my eyes and see your mulato
smile while the breeze caresses my naked, tanned legs and playfully
works its way to my thighs while trumpets blare, guitars moan and the
singer cries all the way to HOTEL EL PRESIDENTE at the corner of
AVENIDA LOS PRESIDENTES and G across from EL MALECÓN
six blocks from the ARTS and CRAFTS MARKET in Havana in
Magical, Magical, Magical Cuba. Havana, Cuba