The street in Havana is the front yard, the play ground, the conversation area, the school classroom, the place to meet for dominos or chess, the baseball field, the spectator section for the boxing ring, the work shop and garage. It is where all of life transpires. It has its own sound, smell, and when crowded, touch. Hustlers, lovers, moms and dads walking their kids to school, old people sitting and waiting, it is vibrant and sensual.
