Marek Marco turns 96 today. When you look at his face from the right angle, it resembles an ebony sculpture that recreates the model’s facial features in an extraordinary way. He remembers the times of the dictator Fulgencio Batista. I don’t want to talk about it, because just taking up the topic is risky here. And talking to foreign tourists can cause trouble. Marco speaks good English, but complains that visitors rarely venture into these areas of the city.
We sit at a table in a local pub. There is no name, because what for. Local residents will always come here, and no one else will come here. Except for us, of course. Celebrate the birth of our new friend. Marco buys the first beer, and I drink it so as not to upset him. It is unpalatable, it seems as if it is stale and fermented. It is not appropriate to refuse a snack and then it is not appropriate not to drink another one. With each glass, it seems tastier. Or rather less distasteful. But let’s leave it at that, the ceremony was private.
Immediately after arriving in Havana, we have the impression that the city is gray. And this is the case outside the Centro Historico, of course, not counting the bright colors of vintage cars. The fall of the Batista regime and the seizure of power by Castro led to the loss of the possibility of trade with the world, outside the communist east of Europe. This is why the streets are dominated by over 60-year-old American cruisers and toddlers, Fiats and Ladas produced in Poland and the Soviet Union. Of course, if you go for a walk to Centro Historico, you will see beautiful colonial buildings. Here, the city seems to live with happiness and prosperity. Until you walk into your local store. There is poverty here as well, only covered with colorful paint for tourists.
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