When there is nothing to do, I like to go for a walk.

It is with unplanned repetition that these walks will lead to me a stone park near Calle San Martin in Centro Habana. To sit in Centro Habana mid afternoon is to everywhere and no where at the same time. Today it’s a little after five and the bustle of the park has died down only just a little. The sun in beginning to set and it casts an indescribable glow over the park as though this is the only place in the world. Guillermo who sells sandwiches on the corner has just given away his last piece of bread and talks wildly to his partner as they fold up their tables and chairs. Guilermo has sold 10 peso sandwiches on this corner for three years and says that he loves the people.

“Son Buenísimas, but they talk a lot. They don’t always buy.”

As Guillermo continues packing, a group of girls, just out of school gathers under a tree. Pulsating beats erupt from their speaker providing a perfect soundtrack for them to eat ice-cream and laugh wildly at any young boy who walks by. Later they disappear one by one without and sound and without a trace as though they were never there in the first place.

My favorite part of the park is the large graffiti wall that outlines and abandoned parking lot on the Western side. Images of faces and lonely eyes separated by vivid splashes of color adorn the wall in Dali style graffiti. We were once were told that “Cuba is Salvador Dali’s country.”  If that is so, this may be the heart of Havana. Yesterday the wall was empty, left alone to be looked at and questioned. Today it has become a stadium to four boy and a baseball game. They run wildly through rock made bases and use an old brown ball to score their points. Red shorts just got tagged. He is out.

““José” shouts a woman from a second floor balcony. “José, “José!” It is time for red shorts to go home and he grabs his bat and runs through the parking lot straight towards his home. Within seconds the graffiti wall is once again abandoned and Dali’s eyes are left to look upon the empty park.

I decide that my ealk is over and leave my bench for an old man who is walking toward the park. He has three bags in his hand and looks tired.