Thinking in photographic terms, these images would have more impact from a different angle—bolder and closer.

When I look at them, I feel that sensation of being back there—near the corner of 78 and 13 in Playa, where silver-haired neighbours still remember the glory of a now-abandoned cinema. A neighbourhood cinema whose significance still stands out today through the adoption of its name by the local businesses lining that sidewalk.

I came across a 2023 article explaining that the state-owned company BioCubaFarma was planning to restore it and turn it into a cultural centre. Wow, they really do take their time with things.😃

Bah, what does it matter... the neighbourhood has its own kind of prosperity. The photographer was right across the street having a snack, smitten with the ruined beauty of the Metropolitan, and you know… capturing a few shots of the here and now. The restaurant sign was only visible through the 45–200 mm lens, since I no longer have eagle eyes. It says they sell bags of ice (Bolsa de Hielo, 250.00 CUP).

The neighbourhood boys drink pitchers of beer and smoke… I’m sure that back in the Metropolitan’s heyday, you’d have seen them happier, patting each other on the back as they swapped stories of questionable truth, laughing out loud. But now they’ve got their smartphones—bringing them closer to those who aren’t here, and farther from the ones who are.

The public phone you see there on the wall is a silent survivor of circumstance. 🤣

Wow, what do we have here? A privately owned laundromat! That’s quite a rare sight in our city… the vendor at the little food kiosk where I was, who seems to live nearby (and I’ll tell you why in a moment), looked at me and, with a plainly obvious gesture, said: "well yes, it’s privately owned." A few seconds later, I snapped the photo that follows.

The woman suddenly stepped out from behind the wall—my intention had been to capture the worker who was behind her.

A photographer must keep their eyes wide open—but they have ears too, you know? A few seconds later, she returned. The kiosk lights went out, the music from the restaurant across the street stopped, and one of the boys said, “Whoa, the power’s out!” She exclaimed, “Oh God, now I won’t be able to sleep…”—surely she was indirectly referring to the heat, since she wouldn’t be able to use the air conditioning or the fan. She was speaking to her mother, not to me… that’s how I realized she was the vendor’s daughter, and that they lived nearby.

The mother was hopeful the electricity would be restored quickly—she remarked that “what they did to them in the early hours was criminal.”

😶

Time bent slightly… everything started over. The polaquito arrived, parked, and out stepped a somewhat bald man with an empty plastic bottle—surely hoping to fill it with beer. Or so I’d say… maybe he just needed water. Polaquitos often get thirsty, just ask any owner of one of those cars. 😂

The cool car still had the boxes on top before circling around and parking at the laundromat. I think the cinema’s façade is reflected in the car’s rear windshield.

Life goes on…