Archived posting to the Leica Users Group, 2000/12/17
[Author Prev] [Author Next] [Thread Prev] [Thread Next] [Author Index] [Topic Index] [Home] [Search]The reason for a week in old Havana was simple. My friend Chris is a jazz and music scene photographer here in Vancouver and has covered some of the "Buena Vista Social Club's" performances both here and in Cuba. He decided that having to face a grey and dismal December in Vancouver the alternative of a month in Havana was a better choice. He extended an offer for me to come along for a week of shooting and wandering around the city of Hemingway and old American cars from the fifties. Well, there are not many things that are easier for Canadians to do than for Americans, but going to Cuba is one of them. Direct flights from Vancouver to the Varadero Airport and no visa problems either. Cuba is still a communist country and that is distinctly reinforced at the airport arrivals. I have no idea why totalitarian states (it doesn't matter weather they are left or right wing either) makes such a fuss at their borders, but it must be a bit of a power-game. I travel light, a small flight-bag and a shoulder bag for the cameras, but the fact that my bag only held a couple of changes of shirts, socks and underwear and three plastic bags filled with 75 rolls of Tri-X had them baffled. "Journalista? Photografico?" I begged off these titles as that means Official Documents and other government involvement and proclaimed myself being a designer of cameras and just happened to have that much film for testing some prototypes! I was saved by the arrival of a Canadian school band with lots of instrument cases and bags of duty-free stuff and that shifted the Immigration agents' interest to them. My friend Chris had bigger bags and about 125 rolls of film (but then he is staying for a month) and it took him an hour to get out! Once released into the warm, tropical air of Cuba, lightly spiced by diesel-fuel fumes from a variety of buses and cars, we headed to Matanzas (a $ 20 cab-ride) and the Hershey-Train. This is a small electrical train that takes you into Havana, slowly and accompanied by a lot off huffing and puffing noise from the air-compressor under the floor. Before 1959, the Hershey Company operated large cocoa plantations along the coast of Cuba and there was a risk of fires from the steam engines normally used for transporting the crop. In 1946, the company imported some Brill-cars from Portugal and as these are electrical, there was less chance for sparks. The air-compressor provides power to overcome the starting inertia and it does make the train sound like an elderly gentleman with a breathing disorder. It is not an express train, it takes a good 3 hours to cover the 70 km (45 miles) from Matanzas to Havana harbour. Oh, they even have a town named "Hershey" in Cuba, midway between the two terminals. Chris has been to Havana several times in the last year and established connections with the locals, thus we stayed with a couple of his friends in the old section of Havana. Officially this is frowned upon, unless you have the proper paper work, but unofficially it is accepted. Price seems to be around $10-15/night including breakfast (and in our case also dinners). The standard of the accommodations can vary, in our case it was in an old apartment in a somewhat dilapidated colonial style building. One of the idiosyncrasies of Havana is that you don't have to pay for water supplied, but you are charged for the drainage of water used. This gives the locals a free reign to come up with solutions to drainage, all geared towards not having to pay for it! In "our" building" this involved having the sinks drain into buckets and when these were at overflowing level, you just dumped it into the courtyard where it mysteriously disappeared! Havana has a lot of charm. It looks somewhat like a stage set for a Russian play. Grand old buildings slowly crumbling away, old cars wheezing and fuming along the streets and you keep expecting "Commissars" in polished boots around every corner. The buildings are crumbling, the cars are fuming, although there is a fair sprinkling of newer cars too, Hyndai's, Toyota's, and Lada (Russian built Fiats) and I did not see a single Commissar during my 7 days there. In fact, I had very little connections with officials during the whole stay (which suits me fine!). This being the LUG, there has to be a LUG connection. In the last 3-4 years, I have encountered LUGgers everywhere I go, but I did not anticipate running into any in Havana. First day, midmorning we are wandering around looking at the restored part of Havana. Across the street from us is a couple, she is sporting a Nikkormat with a 200/4 and he is holding a M3 with a 50/2,8 on it. Of course we stop and exchange the LUG greeting "M2's with 35 and 50" and Chris " M3 with 50 and M6 with 35". Our Leica friend, Hong-I Wu is a Taiwanese born but now living in Buenos Aires medical student, who is in Havana with a group of professional Tango dancers! Once the introductions are done, we made a date for next day at "Casa di Tango di Cuba" and part our ways. Next day we arrived at Casa Di Tango and met the rest of the dancers. We decided that we should do some pictures of this occasion and troupe down to the harbour front. The Tanguardia bus was parked there and the dancers use it as a changing room and appear 15 minutes later, dressed to kill! Several Cuban's on bicycles were in great danger of falling into the harbour as the eight women in tight dresses descended from the bus! For those of us who occasionally get the opportunity to shoot professional dancers, there are no better subjects. They are not shy (Hey, if you have seen Argentinean Tango being danced, being shy and introverted is not something that qualifies you!) and they have a gymnasts control of body and limbs. Having started out as a group-shot of the troupe, it quickly grew to an impromptu 3-hour session. Using the classic old buildings as a backdrop we shot the dancers on the streets, on the steps to a church, on an impromptu stage in one of the squares in Central Havana and on the drawbridge to the old fortress that guards the entrance to Havana's harbour. At one time, this was a place that instilled fear in the Cubans. In the 1899-1900 the rebels were executed here, and in the Revolution of 1959 it was the headquarters for Che's troops. Tom A Continues in " Dancing through Havana" --- Part 2