I think of my mother explaining the famous precept: “Freedom for some begins where freedom for others ends.” Here, it would be more like: “Freedom for some comes alive where freedom for others begins.” Because there is a real sense of community—people are just drawn to each other. Everybody talks to and helps everybody else; this creates a real energy that clearly defi nes the Cuban city. I’m also struck by the many kinds of architecture produced by the various phases of colonization, which have created an urban patchwork of techniques and colors. Because the buildings all look very different, there is no distinctive style here, but rather several. Many are being rebuilt, or lie abandoned, and sometimes the roads are cracked. I immediately get a sense that this city is moving in high gear, and that it’s gradually emerging from the legacy of its weighty past. I decide to stop and sit in the nearest park and realize that it’s a favorite spot for the most tech-savvy people in Havana. In fact, your best chances of getting Wi-Fi is in one of the city’s parks. It’s tough for a guy like me who’s totally hooked, but I accept the detox treatment. Plus, I’m not alone! A handful of Cuban girls and boys are locked onto their cellphones, seated on benches or pacing around the park, which is also fi lled with children in white and brown school uniforms playing baseball and people trying to lure tourists to take city tours on bike taxis. There are also young girls dancing to reggaeton around a portable speaker, and boys, looking left, looking right, constantly scoping out potential prey. Since I’m here, I buy a Wi-Fi card from the fi rst guy who offers me one and install an app to meet a guide who can show me around his Cuba. 131