Fabiana del Valle

A visual declaration of fragility and hope, created on an island marked by material scarcity, diaspora, and the creativity of its people.

In the heart of my neighborhood is “La Nueva,” a bodega (ration store) whose name contrasts with its appearance.

I step out onto the street with an empty backpack and a list. The sun beats mercilessly on the broken streets, and I dodge the potholes…

You open your eyes and realize it’s not the sun that has woken you from your sleep. The persistent sound comes from the neighbor’s house…

I couldn’t stop the tears while walking with my daughter and taking pictures. The silence is heavy where sound once lived. (12 photos)

This story is common to most Cubans, except that some have saved themselves from “dancing with the worst of it.”

Behind us, the door we rigged up continued vibrating, as if to reaffirm that it wasn’t over yet; there was still the wait…

San Cristobal, Artemisa, has a rich history. Starting in the 1970s, culture in the town experienced an unprecedented boom. (11 photos)

Our house isn’t big; we quickly took stock. The electric stove, Dariel’s cell phone, a box of cigarettes, & 6 packs of fish food were missing

As the bus moved through the Sierra del Rosario, I couldn’t stop thinking about when the driver would lose control.