Russian culture, which I consider one of the most original, great and generous cultures in humanity and which I had the great pleasure to discover at a very young age in Gogol, Dostoyevsky, Ivan Turguienev, Tolstoy, Chekhov and others who have charmingly brought me closer to the Russian spirit or soul…
The 1962 Missile Crisis, which put the world on the brink of a nuclear war, was the prelude to the presence of the Russians in my country for several decades. I bring you a picture story of the legacy. (94 photos)
Will I ever travel outside of my country? I’ve asked myself this question a lot of times, which originated, like a lot of my questions, in my childhood. Back then my dreams were just to go beyond the limits of my street…
You spend the whole day thinking about a million things and picking fights with almost everything and now you’re saying you can’t think about anything to write about.
A few days ago, while waiting in line at the agro-market, my neighbor Luis, a fan of funeral homes and wakes, told me some new things.
If a knight from Medieval Europe, knocked down in one of those silly tournaments, were to suddenly wake up sunken in a bedframe without a mattress in a hot poky little room where the sun of Central Havana…(54 photos)
By the 1930s and 40s, Havana had become one of the main tourist destinations for thousands of US holidaymakers. Miami was just a bridge to get to Cuba’s tropical paradisaical landscapes. (30 photos)
The visual impact of the magnificent 18th century fortifications, don’t take away from the more powerful image we have of the overwhelming eclecticism of entire blocks in Old and Central Havana, packed with old buildings.(36 photos)
As if it were a new phenomenon, social indiscipline has become the comfortable limits of a critical message which has been non-existent for too long now, and has found, as if it never existed before, in today’s circumstances, its scapegoat: Private Enterprise.
Like childhood’s many other discoveries, which occur simultaneously, I was invited for my first time to a Yoruba* ritual drumming party when I was 9 years old and found myself alone in front of a santera.