The family we stay with rents three rooms, high celings with air condition and a bathroom. On Calle Luz, in old Havana 5 blocks down from where the renovation has stopped.
Our cuban hosts were extremely friendly and tried to make us feel at home. The woman (Yudy - pronounced Judy) had a 9 year old daughter (Amanda) who became Ivy's best friend immediately, Amanda's dad we never met as he was in China for 3 months on a job. There was always 2 older ladies helping with cooking, cleaning, babysitting and a guy who we never really figured out his connection with the family that was always around and drove an old taxi that took Amanda and Yudy everywhere.
Our house has an undetermined number of people living in it. You hear the shower through the wall, voices, TV, children crying and people arguing. But you don't see anyone.
You are inside but you are not. You can see the sky high up through iron bars in the concrete roof above. When it rain the corridor gets wet down here.
On the balcony the view onto cinematic street life. No cars but people walking. Everybody knows everybody. Slice of pizza for barely any money.
Little girls coming home from ballet. The convent across the street is now a school. A mother rolling a little boy on a makeshift stroller, a wooden board with 4 ball bearings. Fumigation going from house to house leaving white clouds of poisonous smoke. Young rebels with funny haircuts playing a game of baseball.
Welcome to Calle Luz 366 in Havana.
Ivy and Amanda
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