My City: Havana, Cuba

One recent night in Havana, I stared out the window of my friend’s house in the now faded middle-class Vedado neighborhood. A weary 1956 Chevrolet Bel Air wheezed past, trailed by a beaten-up Soviet-era Lada taxi rattling over the potholes. The air smelled sweetly of mimosa and, vaguely, mildew.