I wanted to see the real Cuba, not just the Cuba that visitors make a point of seeing. That’s the Cuba of classic 1950s American cars and astonishing architecture. The Malecón, the innumerable wrought iron fences, bicycles, and women smoking cigars. All those things are important to see, but I was more interested in what daily life was like for the average Cuban.
It is so easy for visitors to be distracted by the cars, the architecture, and the wrought iron artistry. That inadvertently blurs the everyday lives of the Cuban people into the background. What I wanted to see was the real Cuba, and that meant seeing the people first and foremost.
My first flight took me from Indianapolis International Airport to Miami International Airport. My second, to Frank País International Airport in Holguin, Cuba. I had arranged to travel to Cuba with a small travel company called Complete Cuba. It is based in Chicago, and owned by Keith Sbiral and Amy Gardner.
My other brother
I had met Keith and Amy through my brother-from-another-mother and Leica Camera-guru, Dan Tamarkin. Dan is a second-generation owner of Tamarkin Camera, one of America’s premier Leica Camera dealers, located in downtown Chicago.
Dan also happens to be one of the most entertaining human beings on earth to be around. Not to mention the best camera dealer one could ever dream of knowing. Dan partnered with Keith and Amy in leading a small group of mostly photographers to visit Cuba. Luckily for me, I was one of those photographers.
Gear that stands up to the test
I brought two cameras and two lenses with me: a Leica M240 rangefinder camera with a 28mm Summicron ASPH lens and a Leica M246 Monochrom rangefinder camera with a 50mm APO Summicron ASPH lens. I was a bit worried about how the gear might be handled during my customs experience, but all went well.
I could hardly wait to begin exploring. As a child growing up in rural Indiana in the mid-1950s, the iconic American cars of that era had been my first subjects. And now I knew at this moment I had an opportunity to see them again.
A bus ride to test your mettle
We were in Holguin for one day and one night. From Holguin we took a bus to Santiago de Cuba and spent two days and two nights there. We had a memorable and somewhat harrowing bus ride from Santiago de Cuba. It took us along the scenic La Farola Road through the Sierra Maestra mountains all the way to Baracoa.
After arriving in Baracoa, I spent a few minutes kissing Mother Earth and settling myself. After two wonderful days in beautiful Baracoa, our group got up the next morning and headed to Gustavo Rizo Airport in Baracoa.
On a wing and a prayer
The next leg of our journey was flying to José Martí International Airport in Havana. As we gathered in the airport lounge, we saw this ancient propeller-driven commercial aeroplane moving into position for us to board.
The fears I had riding that bus through the Sierra Maestra mountains suddenly seemed like nothing. As we boarded the old aeroplane, my prayer life was immediately accelerated. Nonetheless, we stared death in the face by joking and bouncing our way across the Cuban skies from Baracoa to Havana. We then spent three days in Havana, with a quick side trip to Cojímar, before flying back to the United States.
La felicidad y la vitalidad
One morning in Holguin, I decided to take a walk and explore. As I turned a corner, I spotted a man reading a morning paper sitting on his stoop. I immediately clicked the shutter, only to realize an instant later that the man had only one leg.
Later, I saw two men playing chess. It was my first realisation that the tragedy of Cuba is that while its people are well educated, there is unfortunately very little work for them.
During lunch at a local restaurant, as I was walking from the dining area to the restroom. As I passed by the kitchen, I peered through the open door and saw an elderly woman standing at a sink, happily washing utensils and humming a joyful tune.
Later that the afternoon, I spotted one of the many bicycle taxis, busy hauling residents from one location to another in Holguin. The common denominator I noticed right out of the gate was that despite less than desirable living conditions, the Cuban people possessed an inner joy and contentment that defied their circumstances.
Fiscally poor but emotionally rich
Many Cubans struggle to find a job. The major industries in Cuba are tobacco, sugar, and nickel production, as well as tourism. But those industries do not create enough decent paying jobs to prevent widespread poverty, even though Cubans have excellent educations for the most part. It is not uncommon to see men of all ages sitting and smoking, with nothing to do.
I observed that people in Cuba are incredibly social, and this was quite evident in Santiago de Cuba. Local restaurants with outdoor tables are common. In those places, I could see the Cuban people had an extraordinary appreciation for their friends and family and a zest for life. Dogs are a constant part of the Cuban landscape, and wherever there were people, there were dogs. And for the most part, it seemed like the dogs were always sleepy.
A photographer’s dream
The natural light in Cuba was spectacular – a photographer’s dream. One morning, I was standing on an old stone path enjoying a cup of coffee. The lush Cuban vegetation was rhythmically swaying from a gentle breeze, and I heard a scratching sound that raised my curiosity.
I stepped around a corner and there in the morning light was a Cuban woman with a headscarf on. She was sweeping the stone pathway, with a simple broom made from weeds bound tightly together. Behind her a chicken was clucking, and prancing aimlessly, as chickens do.
It was a magical scene bathed in spectacular light. I quietly and quickly framed the scene and clicked the shutter. The shutter sound of the M rangefinder was so quiet that I remained an anonymous observer.
Sensory riches
Speaking of coffee, I had my share of great coffee in Cuba. Our group of photographers visited a shop in Santiago de Cuba that specialized in coffee and cigars. In the dim light, I was able to capture two ladies wearing red and white polka dot headscarves carefully pouring hot water over the ground coffee beans.
The steam from the hot water rose upwards, and the women were a picture of concentration. The smell of fresh coffee and tobacco permeated the space, and I can still remember the sweet scents.
Respecting the game
Domino games along the streets were a frequent sight. Often the men playing would be surrounded by a hoard of observers gathered tightly around the men sitting at the table. One day, I saw four men playing dominoes all alone. Their table was positioned on a very narrow pavement, with three of the chairs on the pavement (or sidewalk if you are in America) and one sitting in the street.
I quietly squatted down and composed the scene. Just before I was ready to make the photograph, two of the men noticed me. Realizing I had been spotted, I paused briefly to see what would happen. When I felt the moment was right, I pushed the shutter.
Love and joy
Baracoa is a beautiful seaside city and became one of my favourite places in all of Cuba. I spent time talking to a mother and her young daughter as they were sitting on their patio facing the sea. As we chatted, I made a portrait of them. The young girl’s face is filled with youthful joy and innocence, and her mother’s love for her daughter can be easily noticed in her expression.
Perception vs reality?
As I took this moment in fully, I paused to think about how some Americans, who have never been to Cuba, have ideas and opinions about Cubans that are negative and so wrong. I talked to two men, one sitting on a step outside the front door of their home, and another man sitting just inside the door in a chair. The man inside was a bit suspicious of me, but the man on the step was open and chatty.
As we talked, he asked me, “how can Americans sit idly by and watch their children continue to be slaughtered with assault rifles in your elementary schools”? The question made me feel ashamed to be an American at that moment. I replied softly, “it’s impossible for me to explain, but I can tell you it breaks my heart”.
What we have in common
He looked at me, and then smiled and said, “you know, son, if it wasn’t for the governments of the world, who do nothing but make wars and cause strife, your people, and our people would be friends because common people are just common people, all over the world”. I wanted to hug him, and I thought how much truth and wisdom there was in his words.
In the afternoon, I walked past the open window of an elementary school in Baracoa. I immediately remembered the man’s question about American elementary schools. Two children and a teacher peered out at me. As I made my photograph, my eyes were rapidly filling with tears.
The importance of the three “F’s”
As the sun began to fade from the sky one evening in Baracoa, I spotted a man riding his bicycle in the street, just a block from a local church. I remembered an earlier discussion on the town square with a man who said that in Cuba, the things that were important are family, friends, and faith.
Havana time-warp
Havana was a city unlike any other city I have ever experienced. The once-grand architecture, even in its current condition, is breathtaking. But more breathtaking for me than the architecture or the iconic cars was the overall vibe of the Cuban people. They live their lives to the fullest, day by day, in much less than desirable conditions.
My days in Havana were filled with interactions with local Cubans and trying to absorb and document all that my eyes were seeing. There were photographs to be made in every direction, but I held true to my commitment to do my best to capture the daily life of a Cuban and to not succumb to making “tourist” photographs.
An unforgettable Havana
In a fortunate moment, I walked into a scene that in my mind captured the essence of Havana. On a cobblestone street, there was a 1954 Chevy Bel-Air parked at the curb, and on both sides of the narrow street multi-story buildings rose upwards, making the street feel like it was at the bottom of a canyon. The buildings had the classic ornate cut stone architecture and wrought iron that is emblematic of Havana.
But the essence of the scene was a beautiful Cuban woman, standing in a pose that looked like a photograph William Klein would have made in his magical days as a fashion photographer in Paris and New York City. A gull floated slowly overhead, adding an exclamation point to a laid-back scene that is so perfectly “Havana”.
After I made this photograph, I simply stood quietly and became part of the moment. This photograph became a cover photograph for Leica Society International’s Viewfinder Magazine, perhaps because it does show an honest depiction of the beauty of daily life in Havana.
The light that connects us
One afternoon Dan Tamarkin and I were wandering through the streets of Havana and as we walked along chatting and interacting with the locals, we suddenly spotted a scene that stopped us in our tracks. A father and son were standing in an alcove deep inside a building whose façade opened onto the street. Natural light was filtering in from the open roof above the alcove.
The father was teaching his son how to box. Both Dan and I immediately started capturing the moment. After both of us had made a myriad of photographs of the moment, we stepped back, looked at one another, and smiled in amazement at the scene we were so fortunate to have witnessed.
Cinematic memories
On another day, while out walking alone, I came across three men standing next to a doorway. The morning light was casting deep shadows in the doorway, while creating magical shards of light and shadow along the street. A man clutching his cane under his right arm, wearing a safari hat with the brim turned up on the sides, was carefully studying a small notebook.
The sunlight reflected off his wire-rim eyeglasses, making them stand out on his face. The two men with him seemed to be waiting anxiously for him to interpret something in the notebook. This moment was another example of scenes that are common in Havana, where light and shadows create cinematic moments throughout the day.
The making of friendships
As our time in Havana began to wind down, I realized I had made friends with people in our travel group that would last a lifetime. As we were all walking together along a street filled with locals going about their day, I captured my friends just behind a Cuban lady holding an umbrella to keep the hot sun out of her face.
She seemed lost in her thoughts. The layers of the scene unfolded in a way that painted a dramatic representation of what it was like for us to be a part of life in Havana. At that moment, I knew I would always remember how wonderful it was to be in Cuba.
Small acts of kindness
At the end of our time in Cuba, I was able to take a photograph of something I had witnessed my friend Dan Tamarkin doing throughout our time in Cuba. In his camera bag, he kept a stash of treats for kids he would encounter – candy, gum, and trinkets.
He would engage the parents and the kids with his famous grin – a grin that customers and Leica Camera aficionados know so well. As he would reach into his bag, the faces of the kids would light up, just like Dan’s face. I realized this is precisely what needs to be happening all over the world. Small acts of kindness that mean much more than we likely realize.
It was a fitting way to remember my days in Cuba. Real Cuba. Where people’s lives are built around family, friends, and faith. And a place where joy abounds in difficult circumstances. I had seen and captured exactly what I set out to do.
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| James Rice on Macfilos | James Rice |
| A personal view of the M 240 and M 246 on Macfilos | A brief summary of Cuba on Wikipedia |
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Excellent images. I went to Cuba in 2014, also with an M 240, and 4 lenses, a 35mm Summilux, 50mm Summilux, a 75 APO, and a 21mm Super Elmar (for interiors). The Leica is the perfect camera for street shots in Cuba! All my images are in color. I have not converted them to monochrome, since the colors of old Havana were so beautiful.