The old men, finding a fountain of youth in an audience…the sly looks that erase decades from their faces. And glimpses of a Cuba that no celebrity will see – the real life, the sad reflection of corruption and a weary people.
And Ibrahim…a second youth in the oldest of age.
Go ahead, play the music, and dance around the kitchen with someone you love. Or even like just a little. They’ll grow on ya before the tunes fade. I don’t what it is about that island rhythm but it is infectious, seductive…and, yes, melancholy.