30 November 2020_ New York USA

/ Renay Elle Morris

photo / renay elle morris

_a wandering spirit finds solace through a lens in a global passage.

There I was on an island, most misunderstood and frozen in time. During my two weeks in Cuba, I spent days combing the narrow and curious labyrinths of cities filled with pastel shaded residences, silent ladies and gents dangling cigarettes from mouths_ peering through broken windows while children played in streets well past bedtimes. I delighted in these brief moments as I, too, peered into ground floor dwellings and caught glimpses of family gatherings around old TV’s. There were the bucolic landscapes of Vińales and its small wooden houses with porches, tobacco fields, and tour stops selling the questionable aromatics of cigars, amid pastoral settings that invited me into mysterious caves. Not to forget, the intoxicating seas that bathed tan bodies while kissing the shorelines of the whitest of sand. And, of course, I relished my strolls along Havana’s Malecón_ the delightful promenade and seawall where gatherings and Caribbean songs thrive.

Everywhere I ventured, I was reminded of the undercurrent of unresolved conflicts and economic woes which still hold generations captive. Yet, I was greeted with smiles and warmth wherever I danced, as the island’s playful and sensual music led me beat after beat. It was all beautiful.

My journey included a 4-hour drive from Havana to Trinidad de Cuba_ a long stretch of solitude through a maze of bumpy roads and interior outposts to the island’s south-central region. Thirst needed to be quenched, so quick road stops were made. The signs posted for Trinidad, the Unesco designated city (1988), were increasing and, once again, I was delighted to start another adventure_ one that included the Plaza Mayor and the Casa de la Musica, where evening draws locals and tourists alike to the pulsating rhythm of salsa bands.

After a quick drop off and check in at the private homestay of choice, I managed a few localities while I steadied myself from the unevenness of massive stones filling the terrain. It was grand to observe the landscape of  Trinidad_ different and slower than Havana, yet the same reminders_  local color offerings; coffee stops, ‘50s convertibles tending to the demands of tourists competing alongside my fav_ odd bicycles with seating for 3 speeding by. It wasn’t long before it was time to close the book on the excursion for the day to seek much needed shade. With a bit of help, I found my way back to Casa Muñoz, which was my vacation stay in Trinidad de Cuba.

_mi casa es su casa.  

Delighted to melt into comfort from the great heat that sweated equally across my body, I soon was ensconced in a wonderfully charming and venerable mansion. Señor Julio Muñoz entered the great room. After light conversations and a short history of how he and his wife Rosa had created this stunning casa particular (a home licensed for a tourists’ stay), Muñoz, a native son of Cuba, noted his linage included generations of prominent Spanish immigrants. I wandered around and admired the old-world furnishings_ a mixture of beautiful colonial and baroque styles, filled with delicate antique curios as carefully placed accents. Featured in National Geographic magazine, this casa particular’s charm is wildly touted as “one of the best places for the foreign traveler.” It was enchanting and cozy_ even with spacious parlors, grand lounges, and inviting patios. Nearby, one can also enjoy the specialties at Muñoz Tapas_ a lovely eatery with a variety of platters and drinks_ Cuban and international flavors, to be savored along with incredible views from the rooftop dining.

The sun on that February day had no boundaries, casting slivers of light through casements on other visitors who slipped in from guidebook itineraries to find relaxation in Casa Muñoz. We compared notes. Some had signed up for activities that Muñoz organized, which included escorted and detailed itineraries_ designed to entice the visitor with a multitude of excursions and day trips, Others meandered and were gratified with museum visits, flea markets or café settings featuring eclectic architectural styles along with a Cubanito_ a rum bloody mary. 

_there was a slight breeze. it was splendid.

Señor Muñoz’s appeal was evident. As we listened to the novel ideas of his ventures, we learned of his notable successes which have caught the ear of Cuban as well as foreign dignitaries, and visits and interviews from journalists_ U.S. to Australia. Listening intently, I note that his character and resolve is ever present, seeking opportunities wherever and whenever. Like many Cubans growing up after the 1959 revolution, he was forced to reinvent himself_ quite necessary in the changing and challenging Cuban economic landscape. Trained as an electrical engineer, he found passion in the raising of horses. A horse-whisperer_ one phrase that suited him well. “Reinvention is key,” he explained. It was his credo, and it served him_ as each venture bore the fruits of his labor. 

_cowboy shooter of trinidad de cuba. 

_observation.

_ resources.

 _on Instagram