Text and photos by Nester Nuñez (Joven Cuba)
HAVANA TIMES – Mercedes is waiting for the ferry to cross the bay. A scarf covers her hair, now gray at 54 years old. She holds a cheerful fan and wears a calm smile despite the heat, the noise of the crowd, and the delay. “I come every year,” she says. “My grandmother used to bring me when I was little.”
On the other side of the fence, a mother sits on a bench with her two small children. In the space on the right side of the photo, where storm clouds threaten rain, the absence of the father and husband is highlighted. One can’t help but think they will kneel before the Virgin, holding back tears, and with their hearts in their hands, they will pray for health, strength, and for their family to be reunited once again.
It’s September 7, the day of the Blessed Virgin of Regla, patron saint of the Port of Havana. At 5 p.m. there will be a mass in the church, and afterward, a procession will make its way through part of the town. “A lot of people make wishes to her because they have faith. Faith is what saves us, even if it’s a lie,” says Mercedes.
The gate to the dock opens, and the blue dolls are raised above people’s heads so they won’t be damaged. The voices, the sound of cars, and footsteps on the pavement suddenly fall silent, like in a movie, and only the unified, vaulted chant that gives motivational strength can be heard:
“Row, row, row… for the Virgin of Regla will accompany us.”
The effort is yours, it’s up to you to move the boat of your life forward, but there is comfort in the Virgin’s accompaniment, in something with an origin beyond understanding that can only be embraced with faith. Absolutely, you are not alone.
The main façade of the Church of Our Lady of Charity, in Central Havana, is covered by a green mesh, like a large mosquito net that safeguards it from tropical diseases. A gigantic Cuban flag hangs from it, waving over the sunflowers and yellow dresses, and over the Virgin who will soon go out on pilgrimage, adorned with red, blue, and white balloons. The inside of the church is as crowded as the surrounding streets. The faithful pray in silence, light their candles, and offer their gifts on this September 8.
From their high balconies and rooftops, the neighbors of Galiano and
