Espresso Tales - Alexander Hanchett Smith [126]
– and they were very outgoing. They were also very good at chasing balls.
“The Japanese dogs” she continued, “were very interesting –
from the animal behaviour point of view. They were very sensitive. Very concerned with face.”
Pat laughed. “All rather like their owners?”
“You could say so. And I suppose it shouldn’t surprise us. Animals with whom we live in close proximity are bound to throw our behaviour back at us, aren’t they? I’m not sure if we should be surprised by such findings.”
“No,” said Pat. “But it seems a little bit far-fetched.”
Domenica looked thoughtful. “I had occasion to reflect on this myself,” she said. “Last year, when I was in Havana. I recalled that bit of Stanford research while I was there. And I must say I thought that he had a point. But I’m not sure if you want to sit there and hear all this from me. You have that picnic to tell me about.”
Pat wanted to hear about Havana. There would be time enough for Moray Place later on.
Encouraged to continue, Domenica picked up one of the books from the pile, glanced at it thoughtfully, and replaced it. “I wanted to go to Havana,” she said, “before two things happened. The first of these is before the place fell down altogether. Do you know that over one hundred of their lovely old buildings collapse every year? And the second is before the Americans got their hands on it. I am not one of those people who are uncharitable about the Americans, but the truth of the matter is that the United States has been breathing down Cuba’s neck since the early nineteenth century and continues to do so. I cannot believe – I just cannot believe – that if the average person in the United States knew how that lovely island has been treated over the years they would feel anything but shame. Pure shame. Indeed, everybody has bullied Cuba. The Spanish were simply murderous. Then they looted the place. We had a go at it. Then the Americans tried to buy it. They 266 Havana
occupied it. They treated it as a private playground. Organised crime ran the place. They built big hotels. They had their meetings there. And then Castro and his crew appeared and we all know what happened then. Thousands and thousands imprisoned and held under the thumb. Poor Cubans. It’s ever thus.”
Pat wondered what this had to do with dogs, and Domenica sensed her puzzlement.
“You’re obviously wondering where dogs come into this,” she said.
“A bit,” said Pat.
“Dogs have everything to do with this,” said Domenica.
“Cuban dogs are rather special, you see.”
81. Havana
“I arrived in Havana at night,” said Domenica. “That’s a good time to arrive anywhere, because you don’t see very much and then you wake up in the morning and open your shutters to an entirely new world. That’s how I felt. There was a balcony to my room and this looked out over the rooftops to the most gorgeous tower I have ever seen. A tower on top of an ornate palace of some sort, with small arches and windows painted in that light blue they go in for in Cuba – almost a turquoise. And when I looked down and along the street to the front of my building, I saw nothing but three-or four-storey buildings with decorated stucco facades, all in faded white or yellow or pink. Ironwork balconies. I have never seen such beauty in a city. Never. Not even in Italy. Not even in places like Siena or Vienna. It’s a wonderful, very feminine architecture.
“But the problem with the beauty of Havana is that it’s so decrepit. So many of those wonderful buildings are on their last legs. The people can’t afford to fix them. They have no money. When you don’t even have enough money for food or soap or any of those things, then you won’t have enough money for your buildings, will you?
Havana
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“And so you walk past these buildings in which whole floors, or rooms within floors, have collapsed. And yet people who lead their lives in the rooms next to those that have simply fallen to the ground continue to live where they are. So you will see gaps in buildings, like missing teeth, and right beyond the