Gimme Shelter

We walked along the back trails from our casa this afternoon, through fields, over streams and past pretty little houses where rocking chairs sat invitingly outside.

Despite the seemingly beautiful weather the heavens suddenly opened, politely waiting until we were just far enough from home to leave us stranded. The rain came down in a manner last seen by Noah, and we ran for shelter beneath a tree that wasn't quite up to the job.

When we looked up from our damp distress we saw two people in a nearby house, smiling in our direction. They stood on their porch and beckoned us over, we sprinted to them damp and grateful - as they invited us in to sit down and dry off.
After a while we went out to the porch, and they made us coffee as we swang thankfully in their rocking chairs. They joined us, along with two wonderful dogs, and we sat watching the downpour and chatting about Cuba.
Everyone who trudged past in the rain, from shirtless cyclists to plastic sheet covered families, exchanged words with us. 'Everyone in Vinales are friends' they explained, 'We?re a giant family who all look after each other'.

We talked for hours as the rain continued to fall, well into the darkness of the evening. A '59 Buick idled past, the driver honking a merry hello. Nearby a goat chewed merrily on a hedge, as the dog in my lap decided to get some exercise, scurrying off into the darkness, despite the rain.


Now I'm sure the simple generosity of some shelter and a hot drink happens back home just as it did here - but I wouldn't call it standard behaviour.

In Cuba it's almost an integral part of the day.