Waking Up in Havana: Reflections from My Third Trip to Cuba
My Third Cuban Journey: Havana Then and Now
This was my third time in Cuba, and once again, Havana greeted me with its faded grandeur and timeless rhythms. Images from my first trip are here. And here are images from this trip.
As always, the first thing I did after arriving was walk to the Malecón at sunrise. The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and stories, while fishermen, already perched on the seawall, cast their lines into the surf—unfazed by the waves that crashed beneath them.
Havana: Then, Now, and Always Familiar
I first visited Cuba in 1998, and again in 2002 for work. That second trip surprised me with how much had already changed. On this return, I braced for a city transformed—but to my surprise, much of Havana remained as I remembered.
Havana Vieja has leaned heavily into tourism, its pastel facades polished for visitors. But step beyond those cobbled lanes and you’ll find a city still steeped in its old rhythms.
What’s changed most, undeniably, is the economy. With more freedom for private enterprise, dining in Havana is now a matter of choice, not desperation. Gone are the days of scouring for something vaguely edible—today, the culinary scene offers a surprising spectrum of quality and creativity.
When the Lights Go Down: The New Glow of Havana Nights
One thing that struck me again, as it had before, was the night light. Or more precisely, its absence. The city still bathes in a curious glow of tungsten and flickering fluorescent bulbs, casting eerie shadows across its crumbling streets.
But now, there’s something new: the white glow of mobile phones. Wi-Fi in Havana remains rare and patchy, but it has introduced a strange new ritual. People gather in silent clusters around public hotspots—drawn together physically, but lost in virtual worlds. It’s a kind of digital communion, with heads bowed to tiny screens rather than to each other.
Photographing Havana’s Digital Awakening
As a photographer, this shift was fascinating. The soft light of phone screens illuminating faces in the dark gave a surreal quality to the scenes. Many didn’t notice me capturing the moment—they were too absorbed, lost in the act of connecting elsewhere.
It gave a fresh twist to the idea of the selfie. These weren’t posed portraits—they were moments of quiet self-absorption, lit from within, surrounded by the decay and dreamlike atmosphere of a sleeping city.
Havana: A City Between Dreams and Disconnection
It’s tempting to see this digital shift as a crack in Cuba’s famously social culture. The old street-corner conversations and domino games replaced by scrolling and silent swipes. I’m still not sure how I feel about it.
What I do know is this: walking through Havana at night felt like moving through a dream. A place where reality fades into glow, and a city’s pulse now flickers on LED screens.