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I Find it hard to distinguish the sun that hugged me from the sky with the one that came out and up from the soul of the island making it look endlessly yellow. A smile of white pearls shines contrastingly in the middle of a brown face that’s been darkened by the sun rays and working heavily in the sugar cane harvest. Eyes with the color of soil look at me and carve deeply inside mines. A character follows another... I identify different faces but feel the same intensity in their pupils and in their smiles. Guitars, tambourines, voices... a different song in each corner, one livelier than the following. Through some windows that look at the street, I join a class that’s listening to a lesson with red stars embroidered to their uniforms waiting for heading back home soon. There’s a little handcrafting fair hidden. Workers that have kissed the hot floor with their feet try hard to sell something. Baskets that carry rainbows inside. Skirts made out with hundreds of layers of fabric in different colors make it hard to focus on one or choose which one is the brightest. Crowns made with flowers from a never ending spring. A cramped square where everyone bets the few things they have in a domino match. Old ladies that sit down on a little bench at the door of their houses look how life goes by while smoking an habano. Everything is there, in that moment. Nobody’s thinking about tomorrow. Nobody’s thinking about yesterday. Nobody steals it. Carpe Diem is called for some, Havana is called for me. Havana, Cuba, September 2017.