Walking through the marina that afternoon wasn’t just another photo outing. It was a personal milestone; one I could never experience in Cuba. Back home, stepping onto a boat is not a simple activity, not a casual weekend plan. It’s a forbidden dream. Not because of danger, not because of money, not because of the sea… but because being Cuban means you’re not allowed to touch what should be yours by right.
Here in Panama, everything was different. I watched people come and go, hauling gear, securing ropes, preparing to head out or returning from the ocean. I asked, I observed, I connected; simple human interactions that opened a door I had been denied my entire life. And just like that, I found myself on a dock, inches from the water, feeling the tension of the ropes, hearing the engines rumble, living a scene I had only imagined from afar.
These photos are more than documentation. They’re proof of something deeper:
that the world is wider than the limits imposed on us,
and that every dream postponed has a moment waiting; sometimes far from home.
That day, I didn’t just photograph boats.
I captured myself finally living an experience my own country never allowed me to have.
And that freedom… no one can take it from me.
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