As the ship began to approach the port, the dark figures that moved from one side to the other along the pier became increasingly clear to Mariano. The black men who loaded and unloaded merchandise were tall and robust; and he, watching them from the deck, felt small compared to those giants.
The smell of rotten fish was so strong that the first-class ladies covered their noses with a perfume-soaked handkerchief. “I'm going to faint,” said Mrs. Valls, leaning with her back on her lady-in-waiting she had brought from Barcelona.
The poor maid, who had been born and lived until a couple of months ago in a small town in Emporda and who had never seen a black man, not even in an illustrated book, was more frightened than dizzy by the nauseating smell of the port. “Shall I put a little more cologne on your handkerchief?” the girl asked, hiding her anguish and the effort she was making to hold the chubby lady.
Mrs. Valls looked at her maid sideways and remembered that she had chosen this girl to accompany her in her new life despite the fact that she had no experience. She needed a girl who would be discreet, prudent, who wouldn't complain about anything, and the younger the better so that she would adjust to Mrs. Valls’ way of life and her hobbies. So far, the girl was fulfilling those requirements, she thought.
Mariano, Pedro, and the two brothers laughed from the deck when they saw the face that Mrs. Valls made as she watched the unloading of her numerous trunks like a hawk. “Be careful, madmen, you are going to break my glassware, crockery, and all the delicate belongings that my trunks contain.”
“Don't worry, ma'am. If you've packed them well, nothing will be damaged,” answered First Mate Miguel, who was directing the landing.
“Ramón, don't tell me that Alfredo was in charge of packing, you have to fire that man. He’s rubbish. I've been telling you this for years,” Mrs. Valls grumbled.
“Eulalia, this is not the time to speak ill of Alfredo. And just so you know, I have found him to be a trustworthy man. I will never fire him.”
“Sometimes you look silly. I find it hard to believe that I'm married to you,” she told him angrily.
“If you continue to be so nervous, the stress will kill you. Please calm down already!” Ramon screamed, so that everyone would find out who was in charge.
“Do you want me to bring you the fan, ma'am?” asked the poor girl, sweaty and suffocated by the intense heat.
In a few minutes, there was a great uproar on the dock, and people of all kinds began to arrive - children, peddlers, charlatans, women in loud costumes, dwarfs, and beggars. The Catalan lady's face twitched when she realized that a few meters from her stood a girl in a very tight dress who laughed and who, with great ease, made insinuations to the sailors who were helping the waiters unload packages.
”Holy Virgin!” Mrs. Valls yelled desperately. The passengers who were going down the ship's ladder stopped, contemplating her amusing gestures.
“At sunset, the prostitutes usually offer themselves in the slums of the port. During the day, they hang around where the ships dock,” Jose explained to Mariano and his companions.
”How pretty the Cuban women are and how well they strut!” said Pedro, the most carefree of the three brothers. “Let all the passengers down. Let's stay up here so we don’t miss the spectacle that the landing offers us.” Mariano was impatient to touch land; however, following the instructions of Pharmacist Sarrá, he was one of the last to leave the ship.
Leaning on the railing of the deck, he remained still, listening to the hubbub of the port and watching the grotesque pantomime put on by Mrs. Valls. His thoughts flew to his hometown, to the tent where a play was being performed. A couple of days before the festivities of San Roque, the patron saint, a group of traveling actors would come to town to perform in the marquee that the town hall set up for the festivities. One afternoon, Mariano and his brothers went with their parents to see Who's the Boyfriend?, a farce by Pedro María Barrera. A large crowd, made up of numerous countrymen from the town and people from the surrounding area, enthusiastically applauded this satire of provincial daily life. Barrera's work was a comedy; however, the author wanted to give it a moral intention when touching on the subject of arranged weddings, condemning the desire for material goods that blinds some women when getting married. For Mariano, the hilarious performance of the protagonist made him cry with laughter.
Mrs. Valls' screams brought him back to reality. She yelled at Ramon that the carriage was rickety and she didn't want to get in it. Ramon had bought a mansion on the outskirts of Havana through power of attorney. He was eager to go see his new property, lost patience with his wife, and forced her to get in with a push.
The few passengers who had not yet gotten off the boat gaped at a mulatto woman, with a statuesque body and a low-cut dress, who, taking a sailor by the arm, led him away moving her hips sensually. “I already told you that Cuban women have a lot of self-confidence,” José told them, smiling.
“Yes, and they are also very beautiful. You also told me that it was very hot on the island and you were right about everything. However, the air in Havana is not only hot but also loaded with humidity,” Mariano told him, a little self-conscious, avoiding commenting on the beauty of the Cuban girls.
“It's like being in a Turkish bath full of beautiful females,” said Pedro.
“Don't worry about the weather, you'll get used to it. What you do have to be careful about is the women. Don't let yourself be fooled by the first beautiful Cuban woman who wants to conquer you,” Jose counseled.
“I love mulattas!” said the oldest of the brothers, leaving his shyness aside.
“Well guys, stop thinking about the black girls. It's about time you told me your plans. It would be a bad move not to have a place to drop dead,” said Jose.
“We are going to go to a pension on Mercaderes Street, just behind the pier, near the store we are going to buy. The shopkeeper from Mataró recommended it to us in his last letter. He said it was good, and cheap,” Pedro told him.
“Watch your belongings. In that area of old Havana they plunder badly,” Jose replied.
“Don't worry, we are Catalan and we know how to save our money well. Mariano, we'll leave you the address of the pension so you can come to the store,” said the second of the brothers.
While the three brothers got off the ship, Jose continued talking to Mariano. “And what do you plan to do?”
“I already told you on the boat. I have a little money and I'm going to rent a room,” said Mariano.
“That won’t be necessary. I promised the mayor of Malgrat that I would welcome you in the back room of the pharmacy until you found decent housing.”
“I appreciate it very much, but I don't want to bother you,” said Mariano.
“You will not be in any way annoying,” replied the pharmacist. “Also, as you already know, I need a pharmacy assistant. My partner is a bit picky and didn't want to employ anyone else, but I sent him a wire and convinced him. I've gotten you to work for us two or three times a week, on the days the orders come in. You will take care of the supply of the warehouse, but please know that nobody will force you to stay in the pharmacy.”
”For the moment, I willingly accept your offer. I was embarrassed to tell you that I wanted to dedicate myself to the seed trade, but now that you've just told me that, you’ve taken a load off my shoulders,” Mariano told him, smiling.
“In the beginning, getting yourself set up is the best thing you can do, but I think it's very good that you have plans for the future and that you're ambitious. Oops!! Looks like we will be the last to leave the ship. Now we can go downstairs.”
José Sarrá moved very well around the port. It was obvious that he knew many people and the corners of the city. On the other hand, Mariano felt out of place and looked bewilderingly at everyone around him.
When they were saying goodbye to the captain and the officers, Miguel asked Mariano, “Shall we meet one night for a drink?”
“We are going to stay more than a week in the city before the return trip,” said the captain.
”Is it okay with you tomorrow at eight? On Lamparilla Street there is a tavern called Tio Ramiro where they make portions of fish that bring back the dead,” Miguel told him.
José whistled to someone and immediately a carriage arrived, guided by a black boy.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Sarrá. Have you had a good trip? What a pleasure to see you again! What brings you back to Havana?”
“Hello Felipe! As always, the Pharmacy calls me. This is Mariano, a friend of mine.”
Mariano thought it was strange that a distinguished gentleman like the pharmacist would address the driver of a horse-drawn carriage as if he were a friend. However, he liked that simplicity and cordiality.
José noted, “Felipe already knows the address of the Pharmacy by heart. Mariano, please write it down: Calle Teniente Rey number 41.
Felipe warned, “Be careful, Mr. Mariano, these are hard times. The rebels, led by Céspedes, are fighting for Cuba to be independent from Spain and there are disputes between Spaniards and separatists. It seems that the Spaniards have allied themselves with the peninsulares, that's what we call Spaniards born in Spain but who live in Cuba, which is why Céspedes is not doing so well now. However, here we are quite calm, but the echo of the revolution will not take long to arrive.”
“Felipe is aware of everything,” José told him when he saw the astonishment on Mariano's face.
“Who is Céspedes?” Mariano asked Felipe.
“Carlos Manuel de Céspedes is a budding poet, lawyer, and owner of a sugar plantation. He promoted the uprising in October 1868 in the eastern part of the island and it had a promising start. He called for the abolition of slavery and freed his slaves in an act of solidarity. Céspedes proclaimed the famous Grito de Yara, a cry for freedom for an independent Cuba, in which he encouraged other disillusioned separatists to join.
Weeks after the historic Grito de Yara, the lawyer-turned-general formed an army of more than 1,500 men and defiantly marched through Bayamo, a city that was taken in a matter of days, but things didn't go as he wanted. The conflict stagnated despite the help he had from the mulatto general Antonio Maceo, a tough and inflexible man from Santiago nicknamed “The Bronze Titan'' and the equally seasoned Dominican Máximo Gómez.”
“You paint a dire situation for us,” said Jose.
“It is a bad moment, because now Céspedes is at a standstill,” explained Felipe. “The rebellion has not come to fruition, especially due to the economic upheaval that it entails, and the Spaniards are destroying the sugar crops of those who support the independentistas.
“Do you mean that the initial successes have come to a standstill?” asked Mariano.
“Yes, I am pessimistic. Things are going very slowly,” said Felipe.
“You have to tell me everything that has happened in the months that I have been in Spain,” said José.
Mariano, after hearing Felipe's last words, thought that he was not very lucky. He had fled from a Spain at war and now he was settling into a Cuba of guerrillas. “I'm not going to tell my parents,” he told himself.
José later told him that Felipe had been a slave on a tobacco plantation, but that his owner freed him and paid for his studies in Havana. “Felipe reads a lot and likes to talk to people,” explained the pharmacist.
“That's why he knows so much about the country's political reality and speaks very well, like a teacher,” Mariano concluded.
The first days in Havana were difficult for Mariano. The revolutionaries continued to act in the eastern part, and throughout the island there were riots and protests. Whenever he could, Mariano went to the merchants' quarter, where all kinds of merchandise were bought and sold. When a patrol of colonial soldiers stopped, looking for independentistas or people who supported them, he hid inside the doorways. Mariano did not stop going to the Lotja, as the Catalans called the building where commercial procedures took place, despite the fact that he knew that it was a bad time to open a commercial activity.
Business was not going well for the three brothers from Barcelona either. The grocery store that had been transferred to them was not making enough money to support them. However, they continued to enjoy themselves, eating and drinking in the taverns and above all dedicating themselves to the enjoyment of women. Pedro often went by the pharmacy to look for Mariano and together they would go out for a drink.
“Don't get seriously involved with any woman and never get married,” Pedro lectured him.
“Well, I would like to get married, but not now. Maybe in a few years,” replied Mariano.
.“The three of us have a tacit pact, we will stay single for life.”
“Look, you are some strange character. You like women, but you don't want to share your life with one of them. You prefer to go to brothels.”
At that time, it was customary for men to satisfy their sexual appetites with prostitutes. In many streets of Old Havana, and especially in the slums of the port, women of all ages and colors, even dwarfs and cripples, offered themselves to passersby. Mariano couldn't believe it. In his hometown, there was also a brothel, but everything happened discreetly and not in the light of day and not with as much impudence as in Old Havana.
“I must be rare among shopkeepers,” Mariano told Miguel the last night they spent together, before the officer embarked for the Canary Islands.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Miguel.
“Apparently, hating brothels and dreaming of a beautiful wife makes me the weird one here,” sighed Mariano.
“Yes, you are weird, but I’m going to bed!” Miguel said, yawning and patting Mariano on the back.
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