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Beauty in Cuba – A Whole New Look

A few bottles of nail polish, a padded chair against a sink, the right license, and some business savvy have landed many Cuban women their own businesses – something that would have been hard to imagine just a few years ago. In-home beauty salons have given many Cuban women an...


The Legacy of Revolution in Cuba

The Cuban Revolution is a highly visual one. Images of El Che, for example, are everywhere on the island, from market stalls to billboards and t-shirts. The power of images – especially faces ­– is something that the Castro government clearly understands and has made ample use of in its...

Santería, an Afro-Cuban Religion

On the streets of Havana and other Cuban cities and towns, it is not unusual to see a figure dressed in all white. They not only wear white outer clothing but also use white umbrellas, white wallets, white key chains, and even white-rimmed sunglasses. The all-white attire is not a...

On the Changing Place of LGBT Rights in Cuba

“This is the most inclusive place in Cuba,” says Alex, who has been working at El Mejunje (the mixture) for over twenty years. El Mejunje, which is located in the provincial city of Santa Clara, was the first bar in Cuba to fly the gay pride flag and continues to...


The Side-Effect of Living

Content Warning: Depression, suicidal thoughts “Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee?”- Albert Camus Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee? It seems of the same order to me. It’s been months now that I stand at the terrace, looking at the ground below and...

Twenty Minutes

  For as long as I can remember, I have always had a complicated relationship with vehicles in motion. Though restless for new sights, feels, and spirits, the in-between state of journeying and moving is a constant battle against myself. I take infinite comfort in the kind of wandering that...

Getting Personable

The soft yellow light from a lone streetlight reflected off falling rain as I crept around a building that looked like a stone church at 9 PM, searching for any sign of life. I was in a village called Pontorson in Northern France and was trying to find the Auberge...

Homecoming

A December Saturday morning. She’s already running late, but she sits up and pauses for a moment, looking at the sleeping figure across the room. Two hundred and some days of this familiar sight, the same floral duvet cover, come rain, shine, wind or snow. She remembers their early interactions:...