I’ve been waiting to share this story and now seems like appropriate timing. Just last month we were exploring Cuba and embracing friends, new and old – a practice that is suddenly at odds with our interconnectedness as human beings. The following is about an award-winning photo titled “José’s Hands,” taken by Joleigh Rainwater on my first Cuba tour in February of 2019, and revisiting the man behind photo one year later. Through our guide and interpreter, Gelin Eguinosa, Joleigh told José how thousands of people half a world away have now seen the image and know his name, proving that the strength of humanity picks up where governments fail. The following was written by Joleigh. I feel honored to have helped facilitate this exchange and the resulting inspiration and creative output:
José
Somewhere outside Trinidad, Cuba there’s a seasoned musician named José, whose weathered and chiseled hand caught my eye as he held his rugged guitar. It was one of those rare photos that left me speechless when I saw what I’d captured, and humbled as I’ve witnessed the reaction from people who’ve seen it in the year since it was taken. José has no idea the photo even exists, or its effect. Today, I may get the chance to tell him. Hemingway said that as a writer you shouldn’t judge, you should understand, and I believe the same can be said about photographers.
We focus on something and hope it encompasses how it made us feel, or what about the subject captured our attention. Sometimes it’s successful and sometimes, a haunting source of aggravation. Ultimately, it’s left to interpretation but if an image can convey a moment filled with wonder or emotion, or leave me breathless, it’s no longer exclusive. Nor fleeting. It’s a story that needs to be told.
Over the last year, I’ve sometimes wondered if José is still alive and when I returned to Cuba, was elated to learn that he is. I’ve struggled with the words, and I don’t know yet how I’m going to thank him. I’ve bought along some guitar strings, and new picks as well as a print of the photo for him. It’s won an award that really only amounts to a pretty ribbon and bragging rights, but I feel he’s the one that did the work. With one photo, I just told his story.
The midday sun beat down as we saddled up and rode to a small farm in the hills outside of Trinidad. I still wondered if José would be there, but decided I’d just leave it to fate. I didn’t want to build myself up for a letdown, but halfway there my friend & mentor, Colin, asked if I’d like him to ask our wrangler about Jose’. I hesitated but couldn’t say no. I smiled as I heard the vaqueros enthusiastic reply- “S!” José was there.
My heart was pounding as we arrived at the farm and tied our horses. He was there, somewhere, and I still didn’t know what to say. My heart burst and my eyes welled with tears when I saw a frail José rise from his seat under the cabana. We joined him as our guide and friend, Gelin, relayed the photo’s journey and interpreted for me as the lost words finally flowed.
The look on his face as I poured my head and heart out and presented him the gift has been seared into my memory. My words, not so easy to recall. A few days earlier, Gelin had excitedly told me that José needed new strings and hadn’t had any luck finding them anywhere. I had no idea. It just seemed both practical and heartfelt.
There’s a power in simple things that shouldn’t be dismissed. Saying hello to someone can spark friendship that brings immeasurable love and happiness into your life. A token of appreciation could be the answer to someone’s prayer. And maybe, just maybe, one photograph can start a conversation that shows people from different nations that the things we have in common hold more strength than our differences, and that our humanity unites us more than politics divide.
(Joleigh Rainwater)
Thank you for reading.
Colin
“Jose’s Hands” by Joleigh Rainwater
An iPhone video of the exchange, taken by Darlene Abramatis.
