Diaries

Mudejar Music in Old Havana

Recently while walking down dirty streets bombarded by the reggaeton music in vogue, I could not have imagined that, at the corner of the Alameda de Paula, I would be finding an enclave of peace and quiet. (10 photos)

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My Own, Private Havana

There’s a beautiful Havana out there. It’s the Havana sold to tourists, the one that appears on postcards, with startling architectural treasures, an abundance of hotels, beaches, restaurants and freshly-restored vintage American cars.

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Cuba’s Own Horror Stories

My sister told me that her six-year-old grandson reproached her mother for practicing the Yoruba religion. “Those saints you talk about are not saints. Children go missing because of them in December.”

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Two Weeks Up North

A university in San Diego – UCSD – invited me to take part in an investigative journalism workshop. This is how I was able to make the dream of many Cubans – myself included – come true, at least for a few days. My body is back in Cuba, but my mind refuses to accept this fact.

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You Are Poor, and We Will Treat You as Such

In Cuba, your pockets may be full of all kinds of bills and you can still run into all manner of obstacles and mistreatment at stores while trying to make a simple purchase. The lesson of the story is that, on the island, money doesn’t change things.

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The Prostitutes I Met in Cuba

In the 1980s, when I lived in Vedado, I met a number of prostitutes. Pepe, a gay friend of mine, would take me to their homes so I could trade items of clothing with them, which was a common practice at the time.

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Neither a Right Nor a Privilege

I would like to thank the readers who commented on my previous post, and clarify a number of points that may remain confusing, as I limited myself to narrating facts and expressing feelings that do not constitute a definitive verdict.

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