Colours of Cuba

Blue skies, cobbled streets, cracked buildings all in faded gelato colours. A horse and cart standing in front of a rendered white wall with a painted sign saying 'Terminal omnibus'. Although this may not have been the town bus I was unsure. I had, only moments ago seen a horse and cart filled with vegetables casually clip clop down the street and most, if not all of the cars here were a few decades overdue for a service or retirement. As I tried to take in the perfect marriage of colours that surrounded me, with every step, another colour was added to the pallet. A butter yellow church and a mint green 1950's car, a string of quilts along a faded apricot wall. Having not heard about this little town of Trinidad in the province of Sancti Spíritus, central Cuba before now, I did not know what to expect, however this is the Cuba I had dreamed of, the reason I had begun years ago to plan a trip over to this part of the world. Even though the heat and humidity in Cuba had been different to any I had experienced, thick and unrelenting as it envelopes you at all times of the day, this place had so captured me that I had forgotten about the constant sweat and thirst. As I walked down the quiet streets, I tried to burn these images into my memory so I could safely take them home with me to tell others about the beauty of this place. Walking past someone's front yard, I heard voices. I stopped and peered past the fence. There, sitting under a tree were 4 elderly men sitting together, their husky voices singing stories of love while keeping a perfectly casual salsa beat with a guitar and maracas. The next street held another dream, two men sitting with their straw cowboy hats, next to a donkey, which, surprisingly had a hand painted wooden sign on its head which read "for rent photo 50c". The next street had a man holding a rooster with a big cigar hanging out of his mouth, and next to him, two women sat in bright coloured clothing, material wrapped around their heads looking so joyful and animated as they spoke to each other. Street after street I was pleasantly surprised by what I found. I fell in love with this little town of Trinidad, which only a day earlier, I did not even know existed. I had stepped into an old painting, the cracks and aging of which only gave it more depth and beauty. I had stepped in fact, into my dream.