Finding a restaurant in Havana

After a few wonderful weeks around Cuba, we are back in Havana.
We live with Nilo and his lovely wife Cary.
After taken the backpack to the room, we felt the hunger grow, and went out to look for a restaurant.
Two minutes later it started to rain. Not all streets are great lit up with lampposts, so finding a restaurant in Havana isn’t the easiest task.
Suddenly a man in a corridor ask: “Are you looking for a restaurant?
“Yes,” I shout back to outshout the rain, but we kept running.
The rain intensifies, and we stopped under a balcony to get somewhat of shelter.
A lady sees us from her window and asks us if we want to enter her corridor?
We waved back, “Perhaps”, but we considered the man’s option with the restaurant. We thanked no to the lady with the corridor, and runs back out to the now pouring rain, to the man who had an offer with a restaurant.

We have misunderstood the man. The restaurant is under renovation, but there is a similar one a few blocks farther on, he says.
Now it rains cats and dogs, like a monsoon, so we choose to wait in the corridor with Wiliam as the man was called.

The corridor we are standing in, leads into a beautiful old backyard with spiral staircases, antique statues, sturdy pillars from floor to ceiling. I can easily imagine the marble adorned in earlier times. It is a classic gem of history. Two cultures collide, one must surrender to the other. The marble and gold mirrors are replaced by murals of Cienfuegos and Ché, today’s idols.

Today there are 22 families living in a house where there formerly lived one, maybe two families with servants.
Augustin a guy at our age, and Tico a young guy comes down, and we all begin to talk about Cuba, baseball, Denmark, the weather, movie in the theater, and what my Spanish otherwise manage to communicate.

The rain subsides a little. We have been busy talking for more than half an hour, and we must continue. Augustin follow us to the restaurant.
On the way we pass an apartment where the music is pounding out the windows. Augustine says that it is a religious act. It sounds like some are moving in a trance, the same rhythm is repeated again and again.

When arriving at the restaurant Augustin follows us right up to the waiter, and tells the girl who works there, that we are his friends from Denmark.

Wiliam og Augustine

He then takes us to a table, and I am curious if he sits down. He does not, and I am really happy, otherwise our talk meant something other than the possibility of a friendship.
Augustine says bon appetit, kiss on the cheek, shake hands, and leave for goodbye.

We meet Wiliam and Augustine several time in the neighborhood in the following days, always with time for a chat.