viva cuba libre
I went to Havana. It was sadder than I expected; it's pretty much a picturesque disaster area, where a block from the Prado (Havana's famous promenade) people live in half-collapsed buildings, and on the day I left, down the street from my AirBNB -- yes, that's right! -- people were excitedly queuing to buy tomatoes. Lifestyles seem to mostly range from grim stagnation to quiet desperation, unsullied by much in the way of aspiration or hope.
(I know, I know: "under capitalism, man exploits man, but under communism, it's the other way around!")
Anyway. Picturesque, like I said:
The Grand Theater at night.
Imperialismo Yankee!
Not atypical building, Havana Veija Sur.
The revolution is a town?
Desk set.
A well-documented door.
Facing the sea.
Continuously defend the revolution!
The classic cars are everywhere.
Not atypical building, Havana Centro.
Heroes of the revolution.
On the Sunday after Fidel's death, Plaza de la Revolucion was not exactly a hotbed of fervor.
Snapped furtively, but they didn't seem to really mean it.
Wanna bet?
Centro, again.
...Yeah, I got nothin'.
The beaches, as every Canadian knows, are lovely.
Spontaneous memorial.
Ready taxis.
Those were the days...
I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to be here.
Not especially Cuban, except that it's holding up a ruin, but I like this shot a lot.
It's a very pretty city.
This felt a little Dr. Strange.
Centro.
Probably my favorite street art.
Havana Vieja cobblestones.
The vestigial Chinatown.
Bullet holes from a (non-Castro-related) student uprising / attempt to kill Batista in 1957.
(I know, I know: "under capitalism, man exploits man, but under communism, it's the other way around!")
Anyway. Picturesque, like I said:
The Grand Theater at night.
Imperialismo Yankee!
Not atypical building, Havana Veija Sur.
The revolution is a town?
Desk set.
A well-documented door.
Facing the sea.
Continuously defend the revolution!
The classic cars are everywhere.
Not atypical building, Havana Centro.
Heroes of the revolution.
On the Sunday after Fidel's death, Plaza de la Revolucion was not exactly a hotbed of fervor.
Snapped furtively, but they didn't seem to really mean it.
Wanna bet?
Centro, again.
...Yeah, I got nothin'.
The beaches, as every Canadian knows, are lovely.
Spontaneous memorial.
Ready taxis.
Those were the days...
I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to be here.
Not especially Cuban, except that it's holding up a ruin, but I like this shot a lot.
It's a very pretty city.
This felt a little Dr. Strange.
Centro.
Probably my favorite street art.
Havana Vieja cobblestones.
The vestigial Chinatown.
Bullet holes from a (non-Castro-related) student uprising / attempt to kill Batista in 1957.