The void we leave:
In a crumbly apartment complex, in the town of Cienfuegos, in central Cuba, an elderly community lives. I met the members of this community three years ago, as the winds of change started blowing throughout their small island. Since, I returned to visit them more than half – a dozen times. Although approximately sixty years of age separate us, we become good friends.
Taking the pictures was just a fraction of the time I spend with them. I helped carry groceries; we saw Telenovelas together, and mainly, despite a language barrier, we talked. We talked about the fear of being left behind, the fear of being forgotten. A fear we shared. Probably this is the reason I found myself connected to those people I have met half a world away.
Now most of them have passed away, leaving a void behind.