Ariel Glaria

Prelude to Obama’s Visit

The following discussion took place at the bus stop where I wait every day, on the morning of Friday, March 18, two days before President Barack Obama arrived in Havana.

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A Telescope and My First Time in Cuba

Though the things Cubans most crave have varied in dependence of the priorities and fads of the time and individual aspirations, a house and a car have been the top two since I have use of reason. In my case, it’s also been a telescope. (6 photos)

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Two Flies in a Cuban Market

On the zinc roof of a produce and livestock market in Havana, two flies converse. “Have you met the Argentinean fly, yet? He’s got all the flies in the dumpster imitating his Argentinean accent.” (11 photos)

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The Accident that Changed Miguel’s Life

He came back home with a bandage wrapped around his head, with no recollection of what had happened to him. It was the summer of 1984, a Thursday afternoon. Two weeks later, he was already out and about, greeting everyone and answering by his name, Miguel.

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Funeral Parlors in Havana

Three months ago, at the funeral parlor in La Lisa, Havana, Luis showed me why he is renowned for never missing a wake. He was among the first to arrive. “This is one of the ugliest, lesser known funeral parlors in Havana,” he said when he saw me.

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Cuba’s Architectural Demons

Nothing says more about what we once were, what we are or what we want to become than our architecture. The post-revolution unimaginative designs, the poor quality of the construction work and the little importance given the buildings’ finishing had an impact on immediate surroundings. The practice became generalized and, today, we can see its results everywhere.

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Back To Havana’s Sewers

I had decided not to write about Pancho again, but, on the night of Thursday, October 8, Pancho confirmed everything I’d been told. The drain was to one side of a bank in Old Havana. Cucaracha showed up with a crowbar. They quickly lifted the lid.

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A Child’s Cuba Memoirs

Caroline Wallace was only a little girl when she saw the rock fortress at the entrance to Santiago de Cuba’s port for the first time. She was accompanying her father, the new US consul to the Caribbean city, where she lived with hum for six years.

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Old Windows in Havana

Her name was Felicia, and she was a prostitute back when it was good business to be one in Havana. She continued to be a hooker after 1959, when all gambling establishments were shut down and prostitution was declared illegal and actively persecuted.

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