Eastern Cuba is an horizon that is still unspoiled by the mass tourism fever. The Cuba that remains besides our busy planet with its contagious rhythm, without losing the omnipresent joking temper. The Cuba that lives in a daily struggle "inventando" to overcome the everyday problems of an economic system paralyzed by a bureaucracy that cubans expect little from it. Putting, this way, their hopes on additional income from the "parallel economy".

The cuban walks in a laid back pace in which the most basic needs often become Kafkaesque problems: getting sugar, milk for the children, soap, fat for frying or fuel for "el viejo Chevy". The cuban barely knows a different reality due to the hermetism of the dictatorial government, in which at the end, finds the warmth of a mother.

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