Havana is a place that holds dear its superstitions and traditions. Where the former leaves off and the latter begins is a tough and tangled business, thanks in part to the very serious and more relevant and prevalent than you might imagine AfroCuban juju floating about the island.

What have you done to my heart, torn in so many directions but always aching for 23° 7′ 55″ North, 82° 21′ 51″ West? And my soul? Of, by, and for New York from birth, but now reconfigured into an alma cubana that whispers mysteries in Spanish I’m still unable to cipher.

Liza may think life is a Cabaret, but for the rest of us, it’s rather a paradox. Take me for instance: I can turn a quick, clever phrase in English without trouble and indeed, have cobbled together a career of it. But ironically (sometimes I think cruelly), I’ve little facility with foreign languages. ...

Two years of remedial high school Spanish might help you locate a bathroom in Havana, but beyond that good luck. These Cuban specific phrases won’t save you from looking like a helpless turista, but they will tell you something deeper about Cuban culture.

". . . revolutions have their utopian period, in which their protagonists, committed to the noble duty of transforming their dreams into reality and putting into practice their ideals, believe that the historical goals are much closer than they are in reality, and that their will, their desires and their intentions, above and beyond all objective facts, are omnipotent." Fidel castro

With the recent expansion of self-employment in Cuba and the relaxation of rules for private enterprises, Cuban streets have become pretty busy thanks to the opening of cafeterias, food stands, restaurants, hairdressing salons, barber shops and outlets where many different products are sold: ...

THE tribute concert Aug. 12 for Fidel Castro’s 85th birthday, at the Karl Marx Theater in Havana, was billed as the Serenata de la Fidelidad (the Serenade to Fidelity). In terms of flat- footed plays on the name of Cuba’s maximum leader, I prefer “The Fideliad” — which speaks to his epic, exhausting and endless run, which began in 1959.

Things are pretty tense around here. And it doesn’t help that Hurricane Irene is heading towards Port-au-Prince as I write this. When it’s threatening this close, we swing into action (see note 1). 2011 is a particularly harrowing hurricane season because we’ve escaped major damage for 2 years running (toca madera/knock on wood).

The people in Havana gazed in wonder that day in December 1898 when they watched the first-ever car in Cuba move at the extraordinary speed of 12 kilometres per hour. Its owner, José Muñoz, had brought it over from France right after the end of the Independence War.

Alberto Gutiérrez´s Jaguar Mark II is parked on one of the quiet streets of Miramar, the exclusive residential district of embassies, expats and foreign companies. Modern Japanese and European cars are also parked on this street, but none spark off the admiration of passers–by as the elegant British car does.

The year 2005 saw the opening of the only store in Cuba that specializes in macrobiotic and organic foods—the Bethania Market on Amargura and San Ignacio Streets in Old Havana. The macrobiotic diet promotes health and well-being through the consumption of natural, organic and whole foods, and the elimination of sugar, dairy products and red meat, as well as tomato, pepper, eggplant, eggs, animal fat, coffee, alcohol, and processed foods.

Ernesto Bazan´s images of the Cuban countryside are remnants of a tropical dream — suffused with tenderness, color and a hint of mystery. You can almost touch the damp earth, where a freshly slaughtered pig lays near a puddle of blood, or smell the hand–rolled puros whose smoke hangs in the air like a milky veil.

“Some things you simply have to comment on, Gustavo is one of them. He talks a lot, could pass for a Japanese sumai wrestler and charges more than twice as much as any other masseuse in Havana. On the other hand he is simply the best. If you can be fixed, tuned, honed, Gustavo will push, probe and resolve. He is the ultimate Mr Fix–it for the body. His clientele is a who´s who of people who know their way around Cuba, and indeed people visit Cuba especially for his treatment. While there may be many imitations none come close if you want your body mended rather than the ego stroked. Yes he is that good. You heard it from me first. Just don´t be late since his mum can be a tyrant to those who keep her protégé waiting”

A peculiar form of vernacular dwelling has survived in the Cuban countryside: the bohío, a tradition born out of popular wisdom. Bohíos are scattered all over the Cuban landscape in valleys, plains and mountains. The 19th century is considered the age of the Cuban bohío when that it experienced a boom in the construction of this type of rural dwelling.

Many people who visit Cuba for the first time perceive the island as a live museum or a rare antique. Not only for the vintage Chevys, Fords or Dodges that are still running; or the eclectic architecture that appears anywhere and everywhere. It is also for the items that have survived to our times and are part of private collections or are still used in Cuban households.

“A stroll around the leafy Vedado neighbourhood of Havana will reveal many splendid mansions dating (mostly) from the early 1900s. This is a must for anyone seeking an authentic glimpse of a Havana surprisingly far from the normal old Havana tourist trail. Many of these buildings have since the revolution been divided and sub-divided, extended and repaired in a style at once barbaric and intriguing, depressing and beguiling depending on your point of view. Aimara Fernandez who herself lives in one of these endless subdivisions in Vedado walks us through some of her favourite transformations. “

Cubans are proud of their longevity, the free and complete medical care and stress free environment contribute greatly to length and quality of life, as does the availability of community recreational, cultural and educational programs. Other than that it apparently is all down to sex and smoking! An interesting piece.

HAVANA, CUBA—We arrive before midnight. My local friend walks two blocks in front of me to avoid arousing police suspicion that he could be a straight hustler. Our destination is a bar called Habaneciendo, where the marquee advertises, “Estrellita Jaime Jimenez.” It’s early for a night out, even on a Tuesday. Eventually gay Cuban men of all ages fill the small space, talking over the romantic music videos.

Havana is hot and I’m not talking about mulatas or the weather: from Cayo Hueso to Regla, Cementerio Colón to Ciudad Deportiva, you can’t swing a dead gato around here these days without hitting a tourist. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I’ve seen this many foreigners in Havana since the 2006 Non-Aligned Meeting

Since I’m from the Estados Unidos (more fittingly known as ‘Estamos Jodidos,’ or the independent republic of ‘We’re Screwed’), very few friends have visited me here on the “wrong side” of the Straits (see note 1). The lengths the US goes to keep Cuba down makes me indignant, but also sad since my peeps haven’t been able to experience this place for themselves and draw their own conclusions as to how good (or not so) things are in my world.

The people in Havana gazed in wonder that day in December 1898 when they watched the first-ever car in Cuba move at the extraordinary speed of 12 kilometres per hour. Its owner, José Muñoz, had brought it over from France right after the end of the Independence War.

Herbs are found anywhere and everywhere, growing wild, in Cuba, but you can still find herbalists who especially cultivate, look after and harvest them for our physical and spiritual welfare.

The first ornaments that one sees upon entering some Cuban homes are a tongue pierced by a sword and an eye that looks straight at you. These amulets are intended to frustrate the ill will of visitors, although they also serve as a warning for gossips and for those who want to see or know too much.

It is said that Catherine de Medici, queen of France, used snuff to relieve her son Francis II's migraine headaches, although some claim that she used it on herself. She later decreed that tobacco be fittingly termed Herba Regina—Queen of Herbs.

Mr. Bazan is a man who embraces what some might consider mystical. In the early 1990s, he went to Cuba and wound up spending 14 years there. He married a Cuban woman and became a father to twins. And ultimately, he published “Cuba,” a big, stunning book of photographs capturing that island’s moods, mysteries and contradictions as few ever have.

We are on a main city block early Saturday morning. People gathering are high spirited, almost giddy. As people begin to form a line I exhale deeply, imagining it is just one of many lines that are the Cuban reality. This line, however, is different. This line begins to shift, snake, jump and dance. This is a conga line. There are hundreds of us, perhaps even a thousand, and we are dancing in a conga line down one of the most central streets in Havana.

It was six years ago around this time that my mother, my aunt and I arrived at the house of their childhood friend Alina, in a town called Nicaro on the northeast coast of Holguín Province. This was after flying from Havana to Santiago de Cuba and then driving a few hours.

The lights go down… as a troupe of near—naked showgirls in silver thigh-high boots and glowing chandeliers atop their heads appears at the back of the auditorium. Their see—through fishnet body suits drip with silver baubles that dangle like still—wet tiny fishes, and they strut down the aisle like sex washing up from the sea.

here has never been in Cuba in the last decades a more controversial project than the National Art School (ENA), begun in 1961 and never completed due to a lack of ideological and aesthetic understanding, as well as a shortage of materials. Considered by its most enthusiastic advocates a symbol of the audacity and the will to experiment that should characterize contemporary architecture, its harshest critics …

Habaneros hate rain and can be cast into depression by what any British person, accustomed as one is to endless meteorological variations on the theme of wetness, would consider a mere caprice. The slightest hint of impending rainfall can keep the city´s entire workforce at home and no demur whatsoever is made by their bosses if workers fail to appear on a wet day.

A young girl walking down the street dressed in her school uniform—short mustard or burgundy skirt, and white blouse—braided hair, trainers, backpack and licking a popsicle or an ice-cream cone is an everyday scene in Havana. The same as for a distinguished-looking gentleman, one elbow on a window sill or a small stand sipping his coffee from a thimble—sized cup. Or the mulata who walks slowly swaying her hips and biting a pizza pie enclosed in a piece of manila paper.

There has never been in Cuba in the last decades a more controversial project than the National Art School (ENA), begun in 1961 and never completed due to a lack of ideological and aesthetic understanding, as well as a shortage of materials. Considered by its most enthusiastic advocates a symbol of the audacity and the will to experiment that should characterize contemporary architecture, its harshest critics tend to consider it as an aesthetic boom, not without elitism and devoid of any subsequent significance.

“Two days ride and you are still on my property,”is a boast you might hear quite frequently from South American landowners. But not in Cuba. Although this island was once famous for its huge ranches, many of which were in American hands before the revolution, those days are long gone.

For an introduction to Cuban cigars where better to start than the Partagás cigar factory (520 Industria St., behind the Capitolio) in Havana? Cigars have been produced here since 1845 and the tour will create an appreciation for the art of cigar making that will last long after your return home. Even non—smokers are bound to exit impressed and with a greater understanding of the lure of the cigar. This is also the place to sample the goods; just before you exit to the street veer left through the wooden door into the store aptly named La Casa del Habano, probably the most famous cigar store in the world.

In Cuba—and Havana in particular— Eduardo Pimentel Vázquez is yoga personified. Known throughout the island for his national yoga television program, Eduardo has managed to convince many Cubans that the practice of this age—old discipline, which dates back to second century BC India, may be a channel for the self—knowledge and mind—body harmony that humans have long pursued in the name of faith, philosophy or science.

Driving through Holguín province recently I passed an antediluvian automotive abuelo, dead as a dinosaur, stopped in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere. Time itself seemed to have stopped on the carretera midway between Bayamo and Vequitas. The curvaceous Chevy Bel—Air stared me down with its acres of bechromed grinning grillwork. Its hood was propped open while two men peered into the engine.

Loquacious—as are all good barbers—Gilberto Valladares (Papito) speaks at the same speed and enthusiasm as his hands handle the scissors. However, his conversation doesn´t involve homeruns made by his favourite baseball team or inappropriate comments about the beautiful woman who lives just across the street. Neither does he attempt to captivate his clientele by talking of the merits of a new hair dye that will soon hit the market or how many litres of silicone a certain movie star has in her body.

Humpty Dumpty said to Alice, “When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.”And the same goes for Cubans whose unrestrained, rich colloquial language flourishes side by side with Spanish.

To enter Alicia Alonso´s office is to visit an inner sanctum. She works in a small room tucked away behind the unassuming headquarters of the Cuban National Ballet, on 17th St. in Vedado. Outside, gaggles of young ballerinas gather. Inside, an army of efficient secretaries protect her from the uninvited. The room itself is dark, and spartan. The shutters are drawn.

It very much depends on who you talk to as to what impression you get about being LGBTQ in Cuba today… Watch Christian Liffers´s provocative new documentary, Dos Patrias, Cuba y La Noche [Two Homelands, Cuba and the Night]—out this week in the US—and you´ll be ready to cut your wrists. But sit listening to Mariela Castro Espín—daughter of Raúl Castro, Fidel´s brother and Cuba´s next leader—speak impassionedly at Havana´s International Culture and Development conference last June (2007), and you´d have been moved to tears.

Our story begins with a young man, Ramón Silverio, born into extreme poverty in the Cuban province of Santa Clara and whose first passion was seeing the rather poor, but magical, travelling circus that visited the rural communities where he lived. His fascination and nostalgia for the idea of the circus show with its magician, its rumba dancer and its fire—eater never left him. El Mejunje is nothing less than a revelation for many visitors to Cuba.

When in 2003, at the Casa de la Obra Pía in Old Havana, the Arte y Moda fashion show took place, one of the most stunning designs was Peacock Woman, a creation by Ismael de la Caridad based on one of Zayda del Río´s paintings. Still today, this spectacular gown by the renowned Cuban fashion designer is a referent when it comes to translating contemporary Cuban visual art into the codes of the catwalk.

The restoration of Old Havana is internationally acclaimed as one of the world’s most innovative and exciting projects of urban renaissance. It is all more the remarkable for the context in which it is taking place: Cuba’s ongoing struggle to establish itself as a political and economic force to be reckoned with.

Visitors to the Cuban capital frequently remark on how busy the city seems to be, how the life of the city is inescapable and either delightful or irritating, depending on their disposition and expectations as a tourist in a socialist Caribbean island. The fabric of the city is often crumbling, yet Cuban life goes on with a kind of cheerful self—absorption and confidence despite (or because of?) the lack of material trappings and 'advances´ that we are used to in western cities

When Spaniards first arrived in Cuba in 1492 they encountered indigenous people who lived by hunting, fishing, gathering and the cultivation of cassava, yams, maize and black beans. As a result of the new illnesses and living conditions brought in by the colonisers, the original Cuban Indians eventually became all but extinct and crops that had been previously grown gave way to new ones brought from Spain.

A hot Havana afternoon… the surface of the bay is like a gleaming sheet of glass and castles of cumulonimbus inch imperceptibly across the sky. The wall of the Malecón is draped with sleepy figures. Dogs drowse in the shade of the crumbling porticoes. Nothing stirs; the sweltering air is utterly still. But as you lie on the sun—baked wall, frying in the blue and gold afternoon, sinking voluptuously down through the layers of silence towards sleep

Cubans are world champion flirts and it´s usually done with such style that one struggles not to become putty in their hands. Calling out piropos to passing women is a time—honoured Havana tradition. Piropos are nothing like the tacky remarks that northern women have to put up with. OK, they´re macho, but it´s hard to resist smiling at the most of them and men know that the wittier the piropo, the more satisfactory the result is likely to be.

The unique contemplative pleasure of smoking a Havana cigar should never be taken lightly. Whilst the lucky few indulge in this luxury on an enviably regular basis, they never allow familiarity to breed contempt. However many cigars one smokes, one never tires of the gentlemanly—or ladylike—anticipation of extracting one’s chosen cigar from the humidor. Gently, one tests it between one’s fingers and catches the first whiff of that splendid scent

In the western suburbs of Havana stands a series of extraordinary buildings in a bizarre collection of styles from Modernist to Neobaroque to Hollywood Hacienda. These were the grand old pre-Revolutionary social clubs where exclusive sailing and rowing races were held and where rich, glamorous women in Channel sailor suits posed with their borzois for photographs which were later published in Havana’s society journals.

In the early 1950s Detroit dominated the world as the unchallenged leader of the world car industry. Long before the notion of French and Japanese white knights riding to the rescue, Detroit designers were producing innovative and beautiful cars. Cuba was often used as a testing ground for new designs, models and styles and many of the cars and trucks first brought to the island in the early 1950´s are not only still here but still in working use.

Sergio Morales says his wife, Miriam, isn't the jealous type. And that's a good thing because there's another“woman” in his life: His beloved 1946 Harley—Davidson motorcycle. He has kept the battered red machine running for more than three decades with little more than sweat, ingenuity and homemade spare parts.

Ted Oswick has heard the tales of woe. Older men venture into Cuba and marry young, beautiful women, only to be dumped once they get back home. But he said he´s sure his romance with a Havana maid is for real.

And only an act of God, or George Tracey Eaten Bush, will allow him to attend the piano tuners convention in Dallas this week. Gómez laughed at first when U.S. authorities refused his travel visa. “What am I? A Taliban?” the Havana piano technician said.