Travels

Let's be realistic, let's dream the impossible

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Written by Lidia Herbada.


Working in Cuba in the hospitality world, made extra tips come, every Cuban wanted to work in that sector. Sometimes he also drove the cocotaxis to bring tourists closer to the center, it consisted of a motorcycle that did not exceed 50 km per hour, with a yellow helmet that covered them, in this way the tourist could skirt the Malecon and let the air give them on his cheeks Cuba has something that is not forgotten, that comes to you, that catches you, as Che Guevara already said: Let's be Realists, let's dream the impossible. Cuba snatches by its smell, by its charming people, by its air of Charleston, blessed Cuba, blessed flavor.

Time stops before Cuba, time stops before William. The capitol was left behind for tourists, while William moves towards the new plaza. In the afternoon he went near the university, framed with Che Guevara and there he displayed a blanket where he sold second-hand books, a black woman approached him, and wanted to give him the Gramma newspaper to sell, but William snapped: that is given is not sold. When he finished his “extracurricular” day, he began to walk through the streets of Cuba, the colonial houses, painted in bright pastel colors, that smell of oil that got to the bottom of his nose, those slow steps to savor the city, palates full of people eating crayfish, while a Cuba dives into a mojito in the cellar of Imedio.

Dance with me, Dance with me, music travels the streets early in the afternoon, confusing with the night, blacks take tourists to dance salsa where they exchange lives and culture. William's mischief always helped him to survive in that great city, he took Marita, Cristóbal's daughter, his great friend with whom he played chess Saturdays, an 8-year-old girl, and approached a group of tourists, and put into practice the last vein of the "milk scam", they asked to buy them bottles of milk because they had not taken anything for days, and they were having great penalties, after a "ratic" they had 6 bottles of milk , and goodies for Marita. A mischievous smile makes you the king of Cuba.

Dance With me, Dance With me, William is lost in the smell of the sweat of the dance, in the desire to be free again, Cuba is my prison, it is my free dove, Cuba is my past, Cuba is my present, Cuba is my future, Cuba is my ditch of broken dreams, it is my box of surprises, it is my burned Cohiba, it is my hidden treasure. Cuba always Cuba.

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