My First Impression

Santiago de la Vega, Cuba

I saw this guy at the procession of St Lazarus.

This is a yearly ritual in which those who follow the local religion of Santaria walk 20 something miles, sometimes dragging themselves on bloodied hands and knees, to a local church to pray for healing. Its very dramatic, in true Cuban style. Those making the pilgrimage pull themselves up to the alter, cry and pray and make a scene - its all about release, I discovered. Which is great. I wish I had more release in my life. I was feeling very connected, and in line with the spirits and all that. And I was intrigued to find out if this macho guy (who, I imagined, practiced his macho look in the mirror) would be reduced to a quivering sobbing mess once he made it to the alter.  That would be something to see. 

I would like that. And in a way, it would be totally hot.   Because it would mean that he was beyond appearances.  He really was macho, and yet, very in touch with his emotional side.  A well rounded and self aware man, reaching within himself to feel the power of a spiritual world with which he was deeply connected.  As he approached the alter, he indeed, had his moment. But I felt no power.  No energy.  No spirituality.  All I truly felt was the urge to floss (continued...)

I now thought, perhaps he was homeless.  Though, Im not sure homeless people exist in Cuba. What I do believe is that the superficial is often the most profound.  


And I no longer found him attractive. Well, maybe a little...