In Cuba, when summer arrives, the sun gives no mercy. It burns from above, and the asphalt releases a heat that rises like smoke. That’s why, when it comes to parking a car, not everyone is naïve enough to just leave it in the first empty spot. Around here, there’s a trick to it.
Every street has a “blessed” side — the one that gets the shade from the buildings, a big tree, or even a skinny lamppost that throws just enough shadow to make a difference. That little patch of shade is like gold, and drivers know it well. Cars line up there one after another, as if they were seeking shelter under a giant umbrella. After a while, anyone walking by can see the difference: the cars in the shade look calm and cool, while the ones baking in the sun look like ovens on wheels, with the steering wheel scorching hot and the seats burning like coals.
On the other side of the street, where the sun strikes mercilessly, nobody dares to park if they’ve got any other choice. That stretch already has a reputation and even a nickname: people call it “the fool’s sidewalk.” And it makes sense — whoever leaves their car there comes back to find it so hot they have to open the doors carefully, like lifting the lid off a boiling pot.
So it’s clear: in this country of blazing sun and endless heat, shade isn’t a luxury, it’s a strategy. And the one who doesn’t take advantage of it… well, everyone knows on which sidewalk they ended up parking.
