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Just as I pull my huge front door closed, a soccer ball flies past, hits the brightly coloured wall and drops to the ground with a deflated thud. I kick it back to the young boys grinning sheepishly at me. Taking a moment to appreciate the scene, I see my host smoking on the balcony overlooking the small park. I’ve been lucky to find Casa Quintela purely by wandering around looking for a blue anchor, sign of a casa particular who are set up to host guests. Costing only around $20US a night, is super cute, air conditioned and near the centre of old Havana. Despite stifling heat, the plaza draws a crowd; an enamoured couple lounge together, young travellers struggle with their pay-by-the-hour public wifi cards, stray cats stretch and yawn in the grass. With no real plan I begin a leisurely stroll toward the sound of distant live music, which I already know after just one day in this city, will be accompanied by people young and old dancing in the streets. I only make it about thirty meters before I catch the sight and sound of a few locals sharing a good old joyful belly laugh. I beeline for them, wanting to capture the candid moment on camera, but miss it. On approaching I see the three men leaning into rickety chairs, playing dominoes around an equally disheveled card table. They sing and dance in their seats to a song I don’t know, not phased by my watching them. Without any disruption to the party, they wave me over. I stutter out an introduction and request a photo in my broken Spanish, hoping my attempt at the language will be endearing rather than offensive. One of them speaks a little English, a mountain of a man with a beaming grin! He insists I should be in the photo, offering a chair and some whiskey as he gestures to invite me into the next game. I sit with no hesitation, they’re having too much fun not to join in! We quickly find the common language of charades gets us through the gaps, and after my crash course in the rules through watching a couple of rounds it’s my turn to play. As the game heats up, dominoes are placed with more and more vigour until it becomes a whole body affair. The vintage furniture bends and bounces under strain of their enthusiastic game. Each round ends with the victor dancing around the table and we all celebrate the win. The bottle of whiskey somehow evaporates in the heat so I even get to try my first taste of some local rum, Santiago de Cuba. The afternoon will soon slip into evening so I thank the men for teaching their game and sharing their drinks. I set off, continuing in my original direction toward the busy city streets. Pleased with my lovely casa and pumped from my first local encounter, I’m excited for the experiences yet to come over the next five days in this city of warm and welcoming characters.