Cuba is a world of color, a world of people. From the palest white to the darkest skinned, with every shade imaginable in between, people just seemed to really blend. To get along. I asked our guide what derogatory terms were used, and he replied, “We don’t have any.” How refreshing.

People seem to live out on the streets, probably because it is so hot inside. They interact with each other and they interacted with us. Sometimes in English, mostly in Spanish and once in Hebrew (at least, I think, Shalom counts).

There are people standing, people sitting and people waiting. Waiting for the tourist bus to empty for fresh faces, waiting in line for food or the wireless company. Waiting for school to let out, waiting for the rain to clear. Waiting for the sun to shine. Some play music, some salsa, some crochet. But mostly they just seem to stand around and wait. Just waiting for someone to walk by and say ola.