From Havana to the Canary Islands

After moving around Havana like an outcast, I was able to get into one of the city’s best artistic venues, the Delirio Habanero cafe, located on the top floor of the National Theater. I started off by closing the show on Wednesdays and I ended up working all week long. It was a great place, a place where I could rub shoulders with some of the most important artists in Cuba. It was 1998 back then.

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Cuba’s Smuggling Train

I got to the house of Dargelo, my paternal cousin Barbara’s husband, at around 10 in the morning. The year was 1993. Out of a job and desperate, like just about everyone at the time, I told them I couldn’t take it anymore, that I’d lost the job I had selling pru – a beverage made out of fermented roots, popular in Cuba’s eastern provinces – because the owner of the business had decided to leave for the United States, via the Guantanamo Naval Base.

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