Safie M. Gonzalez

There was a brief period when the network worked. The ATMs, located in central areas, were regularly stocked by armored vehicles.

At 9:00 PM in Havana, the fan stops turning, the television switches off in the middle of a soap opera, and the lamp’s dim glow disappears.

The day in a Havana tenement building doesn’t begin; it emerges. The first ray of sunlight slips between the bars of a balcony…

In every corner of the island, daily life unfolds under an alert triggered by the buzz of the mosquito — no longer just a nuisance…

Walking past the House of the Green Tiles is, for the curious an invitation to imagine the conversations that once took place there.

The street was empty, with the bulk of the crowd scattered along the avenue waiting for a collective taxi to take them to their destinations.

It’s not just a line. It’s an open-air popular assembly, a thermometer of scarcity, and a theater of survival.

The bell rings at a school in Havana, but it doesn’t just announce the start of class — it signals the beginning of another day of endurance.