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Lost In Havana
by David Pekrul
copyright 07-13-2005


Age Rating: 10 to 127

 
This incident happened to me during my first visit to Cuba in 1974.

Lost in Havana, Cuba,
In the middle of the night,
Roads so dark and lonely,
Not a street light is in sight.

I walk down by the harbour,
But I don't know where to go,
My heart is racing briskly,
But my feet are walking slow.

I see a dingy alley,
With a street light, very dim,
I walk into the shadows,
And I'm feeling kind of grim.

Then in a doorway, standing,
I can see a stranger there,
He walks in my direction,
And I act like I don't care.

He's speaking only Spanish,
And he's trying to accost,
He finally speaks a word I know,
A word that sounds like, "Lost?"

I tell him where I'm staying,
And he motions with his hand,
Now I can run on after him,
Or stay there where I stand.

I follow where he's leading,
And I'm hoping for the best,
I've never been this scared before,
Of that I can attest.

He leads to where I'm staying,
But he stops a block away,
I'm thankful for his kindly act,
Whatever can I say.

I'd pay him for his kindness,
For he's really poor as dirt,
He doesn't want my money,
All he wants is my old shirt.

There's a Cuban in Havana,
Who thinks he's rolled a seven,
His tee-shirt has this saying,
"Thank Heaven for Seven-Eleven".*

*A convenience store chain in North America


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07-20-2005 Debra Rose    

CONGRATULATIONS DAVID! Your work "Lost in Havana" is one of the winners under Adult Members in Choices of the Week!

To get directly to the column page you featured on, click the dancing GIR! A new window will open to the page that you were featured on!
Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Click ME!
07-14-2005 David Pekrul    

I received an e-mail from one of our members saying that someone of Latin descent would likely be offended by this poem.
If anyone feels that way, please understand that this poem has absolutely NOTHING to do with a person's race. It is simple a true story of something that I experienced when I was in
Cuba, told exactly the way it happened. It could easily have been England, India, Norway or the good ol' US of A. (or Canada, eh!)
The reason I was apprehensive about going down that alley was because I was in a strange city, not because the people who live there are
Cuban. I would have felt the same way in downtown Chicago.
The person in the story ended up being a great guy and a lot of help. I hope I made that clear.
I mention that the man was Cuban because he was. If this story took place in Britain, I would have said he was British. (hope you're OK with that Brian Dickenson)
So if you're feeling this way, please read the poem again and pretend it is in the USA or Canada. You will find it is still the same story.

Thanks for listening,
David Pekrul
07-13-2005 Anthony Lane Stahlhut    

Now you should get one made that says,"I went to Cuba and all they got was my lousy T- shirt." Circle K all the way!( another convenience store chain) LOL This was fun to read, but not funny at the time. Anthony
07-13-2005 Brian Dickenson    

I do like this one David, the atmosphere is quite something.
I could almost hear your knees knocking...lol.
Boxers a right-off I presume :-)
Brian
07-13-2005 Debra Rose    

AWWW! LOL! That's so cute!!!! This is really really well written, the flow definitly keeps you enthralled, and you literally feel the nerve wracking terror you describe. And the ending is perfect. Does he really have a seven eleven t-shirt?
Visitor Reads: 273
Total Reads: 287
Comments: 5

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