That was the 3-day weekend because of Martin Luther King Day on Monday. After a whole-day rest on Saturday, we three ( Hua Wei, Ye su and I) were on the way to Maimi in that Sunday morning. As a matter of course, I drove for go-way and Ye Su would be responsible for the return trip because I am an early bird but routinely exhaust early.
Without more ado, we arrived in Miami, the 2nd biggest city in Florida in population, which is 379, 724 accroding to the record from Wikipedia.
The 1st stop was Little Havana, a Cuban communtiy. More than 40 years ago, Cubans refugees who were against the Castro Government flooded into Miami. Gradully a Cubans community formed around the SW 8th Street. Actually Cubans and other Latinos make up more than half of the population in Greate Miami. What we wanted was just the Latin culture which is totally diffrent from American culture.
But frankly the first impression was not good, even bad. The narrow and rough roads, the old and beat-up houses, the strange and battered cars in front of the houses occupying the 1/3 of road width, and the jaywalkers and rude cars which caused a hard driving were the first impression of mine. It seemed hard to find a parking place in this area. So we had to park in front of a Homedepot shop where was 3-mile far away from Little Havana. On the way to Little Havana, we heard there was a parade for celebration of Marting Luther King Day. That was why so many people were on roads and why to hard to park.
The parade was just ahead and already began. We hurried our steps. Oh, we could hear the sounds. Oh, we could see the parade. Oh, we were here. Let's enjoy the parade.
In Amercia, fire truck are always in parades. I think that is not only a way to ensure parades safe, but also a way to express the appreciation to each other between fire department and residents.
A child was sitting on a shelf protruding from the electric pole to watch the parade.
This guy is cool, right?
In Amercia, students also are recruited to parade.
A cartoon doll. See, a man was sitting on the roof of a church.
The hot bodies and dancing are my favourites.
The parade was done and the crowd began to fade away. On the beat-up street, what I felt was not uncomfortable again, but a strong smack of everydaylife just like in my hometown. But this let me hungry. It was time to eat a Cuban lunch.
See, a Cuban map is on the wall. It was not a famous place but the lamb legs were really delicious. Cuban dishs tastes like Chinese food. I like it. Another impression was some waitress even could not speak English.In Domino Park at the corner of the SW 15th Avenue, a community park, we saw some old Cuban men was passing the time of day by playing dominoes which looked like Chinese mahjong.
Some monuments standed on the SW 13th Avenue to commemorate the victims of the unsuccessful 1961 Bay of Pigs Invasion or other Cuban history.
An explanation for Bay of Pig Invasion from Wikipedia: The 1961 Bay of Pigs Invasion (also known in Cuba as the Playa Girón after the beach in the Bay of Pigs where the landing took place) was an unsuccessful United States-planned and funded attempted invasion by armed Cuban exiles in southwest Cuba. An attempt to overthrow the government of Fidel Castro, this action accelerated a rapid deterioration in Cuban-American relations worsened by the Cuban Missile Crisis the following year.
Our next stop would be Miami Port.
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