Safie M. Gonzalez

There comes an age when we begin making plans. Not necessarily big ones. Sometimes it is enough to decide what we will do on Saturday.

Yamilka is part of a generation that earns dollars from an island where the average monthly salary is less than thirty dollars.

Sunset at 3rd and 70th in Havana’s Playa municipality has a kind of light that can’t be explained, only felt.

Today, nothing remains of Hotel Trotcha’s halls, its gardens, or the façade that endured for decades, like one last sign of another era.

Many Cubans have learned to live with waiting. Not because they chose it, but because little by little it has become woven into everyday life

At a quick glance, the scene could be mistaken. The Malecón holds many stories, and not all of them are what they seem at first sight.

“Driver, could you let me off at the next garbage dump?” The remark came with unexpected naturalness from a passenger.

On a corner at Infanta and San Lazaro in Havana stands a closed door that, for years, was meant to open many others.

There are voices that end up becoming part of a city’s landscape. On some afternoons in my neighborhood, his voice arrives before he does.

He doesn’t run. He doesn’t raise his voice. Nor does he insist when someone shakes their head or pretends not to see him.