In the middle of old Havana, you will find ‘Parque Central’. Here, older men gather to play chess, to talk baseball, and to argue politics, all the while sharing a bottle of rum. As I approached a chess game being played upon a rusty old iron table, one gentleman slammed down an empty bottle as he slowly got up, bracing himself on a rickety wicker chair. As he pushed away, I caught his eye. He motioned me over, and spoke with a raspy, yet high-pitched voice. Frustrated that I spoke no Spanish, he waved me away with his hand. I smiled and raised my camera, hoping for a quick shot. He nodded then took a step back. After this frame, he shook my hand and shuffled away into the chaotic traffic.
This was one of those moments that you wish you had spent more time. It’s somewhat blurry (at least in the eyes, where it matters), shot from the hip. I shot a burst of 3. The man was already moving out of frame by the third. Although technically poor, this is one of my favourite photographs of the trip.