Destination: Cuba with Brumley & Wells

I'm delighted to finally be sharing these amazing images from Cuba by BRUMLEY & WELLS from the cover feature of MAGNOLIA ROUGE LIFESTYLE Issue V. Not only do Jacob's images transport you to another time, his tale of their experience takes you even further. Take it away Jacob…

"Adventure doesn’t really begin until you’re forced to put your trust in a complete stranger, which is what happened in Mexico the night before flying to Cuba. At the last minute, I realized we had far too much gear with us to lug around Cuba for two weeks, and our only choice was to leave the 15K dollars worth of extra cameras and lenses and a priceless bag of film in the care of a stranger we had just met at our Airbnb. Little did I know, trusting complete strangers would nearly end our trip the following day while making our way through customs in Havana, where we were searched, aggressively questioned, and then locked in a secure room with a con-artist and a man we refer to as The General. After convincing The General that the con-artist’s bags, along with their illegal contents, were not our bags, the con was detained and we fled the scene, hopping into the back of the first car we saw – an unmarked, purple, 1940’s Jeep Willys wagon. Our minds were racing even faster than our feet, confused, full of excitement and happily knowing we weren’t sleeping in a Cuban prison. It felt like we had almost single-handedly eradicated the recent progress of American-Cuban relations. 200 yards up the road, our driver pulled over and slyly exchanged money with the driver of another vehicle, who sat waiting with his lights off. We hadn’t been in Cuba for more than an hour, and were nearly deported, imprisoned, conned, and were now in the back of a shady cab. Life was looking good and the tone of our trip was set – a groovy bass line with sexy, melodic salsa riffs."

Cuba didn’t disappoint. The buildings, with their excessive arches and bright pastel colors, along with streets flooded in classic cars, is a melding of two seemingly incompatible worlds – 1950’s americana and 1990’s hip hop. Think Elvis in Hammer pants. It’s eye candy for photographers. For the next two weeks, Annie and I spent our days participating in this colorful scene, sitting in barber’s chairs, bribing chefs and waiters to access roof tops, drinking Rum, and dancing with locals (and Canadians) at Salsa clubs. It felt like we had gone back in time. Community thrived. The streets were packed with artists, old men playing chess and fixing their cars, boys playing jacks and baseball in the street, kids jumping rope, and young women prancing in groups to gain their interest. My only regret was not making it here sooner. Part of me wished I could bring the whole experience home with me. I like the idea of community existing on our streets, during all hours of the day. At home, people only gather for community at bars and restaurants. They aren’t playing games and dancing. If this type of community ever existed, I guess we lost it somewhere. If it never existed, then I guess we have something to find. Either way, we’re missing out, and I’m missing Cuba.

From the city of Havana, we road tripped to the popular tourist Tobacco town of Vinales. We ignored the locals, who tried to sell us trips to farms, and instead ventured out to see them ourselves. We hiked deep into the hills, where we witnessed authentic scenes of thick-moustached farmers hauling sugar cane on oxen cart and smoking hand-rolled cigars. One guy even invited me into his home for stale bread and tea, and I walked away with a dozen hand-rolled cigars to smuggle back into the states for friends. 

Our Cuba adventure, from start to finish, left us fully satisfied. Even the mishaps were beautiful. On our journey back to Havana from Vinales, we caught a ride in a 1950’s Oldsmobile with a Polish family and an olive and peppers guru named Giovani Mezzetta. We made it to Havana, after a breakdown or two, slept, and caught a ride to the airport in the morning. Giovani was there, along with a few other familiar faces, people we recognized from our travels. We invited him over to share a bag of chips, smoke some Cubans, and listen to each other’s stories. We all decided that we couldn’t fit Cuba into our suitcases, even if we had a con-artist working for us, so I guess we’re planning a return trip.