An Island Called Home

An Island Called Home: Returning to Jewish Cuba

Ruth Behar
Photographs by Humberto Mayol
Copyright Date: 2007
Published by: Rutgers University Press
Pages: 320
https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5hj7cd
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  • Book Info
    An Island Called Home
    Book Description:

    Yiddish-speaking Jews thought Cuba was supposed to be a mere layover on the journey to the United States when they arrived in the island country in the 1920s. They even called it "Hotel Cuba." But then the years passed, and the many Jews who came there from Turkey, Poland, and war-torn Europe stayed in Cuba. The beloved island ceased to be a hotel, and Cuba eventually became "home." But after Fidel Castro came to power in 1959, the majority of the Jews opposed his communist regime and left in a mass exodus. Though they remade their lives in the United States, they mourned the loss of the Jewish community they had built on the island.As a child of five, Ruth Behar was caught up in the Jewish exodus from Cuba. Growing up in the United States, she wondered about the Jews who stayed behind. Who were they and why had they stayed? What traces were left of the Jewish presence, of the cemeteries, synagogues, and Torahs? Who was taking care of this legacy? What Jewish memories had managed to survive the years of revolutionary atheism?An Island Called Homeis the story of Behar's journey back to the island to find answers to these questions. Unlike the exotic image projected by the American media, Behar uncovers a side of Cuban Jews that is poignant and personal. Her moving vignettes of the individuals she meets are coupled with the sensitive photographs of Havana-based photographer Humberto Mayol, who traveled with her.Together, Behar's poetic and compassionate prose and Mayol's shadowy and riveting photographs create an unforgettable portrait of a community that many have seen though few have understood. This book is the first to show both the vitality and the heartbreak that lie behind the project of keeping alive the flame of Jewish memory in Cuba.

    eISBN: 978-0-8135-4386-4
    Subjects: Anthropology, Sociology

Table of Contents

  1. Front Matter
    (pp. i-viii)
  2. Table of Contents
    (pp. ix-xi)
  3. Map of Cuba (showing places visited)
    (pp. xii-xvi)
  4. RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME TO RUN TOWARD HOME
    (pp. 1-36)

    “You’re going to Cuba again? What did you lose in Cuba?”

    That’s what my grandmother Esther, my Baba, said every time I’d see her in Miami Beach on my way to yet another return visit to the island I had left as a child. Actually, she’d say it in Spanish: “Otra vez a Cuba? Qué se te perdió en Cuba?” Baba’s mother tongue was Yiddish, but we spoke to each other in Spanish. She was from the Polish town of Goworowo and immigrated to Cuba in 1927 at the age of nineteen, hoping to become a cabaret singer, but instead...

  5. Part One: Blessings for the Dead
    • 1 LOOKING FOR HENRY
      (pp. 39-44)

      The first Jew I went looking for in Cuba was a ghost named Henry Levin. He was gone before he could celebrate his bar mitzvah and claim his Jewish heritage. The son of my great-uncle Moisés and great-aunt Zoila, my second cousin Henry died an untimely death on the eve of his twelfth birthday in 1954.

      Even though Henry died before I was born, I had heard so much about him I felt as if I’d known him. My mother spoke to me of how smart Henry was—he was too smart for his age, she’d say. At his funeral,...

    • 2 A KADDISH FOR THE JEWS WHO REST IN JEWISH CEMETERIES IN CUBA AND FOR RAQUEL’S MOTHER WHO DOES NOT
      (pp. 45-54)

      It is only after many visits to Henry’s grave that I learn there is another Jewish cemetery, across the train tracks in Guanabacoa—the Sephardic cemetery. Built in 1942, it is watched over by an Afrocuban family who live next door to the train tracks. Despite the family’s vigilance, they tell me that Jewish bones are often looted from the cemetery for use in palo monte rituals, which derive from a mixture of the Bantu culture of Central Africa and Spanish Catholicism. Paleros believe that magical power can be drawn from these Jewish bones because they belonged to unbaptized souls....

  6. Part Two: Havana
    • 3 A TOUR OF HAVANA’S SYNAGOGUES
      (pp. 57-72)

      Of all the old photographs my family brought out of Cuba, one always caught my attention: I am a small child, standing in front of a synagogue in Havana.

      When I saw this photograph for the first time, I remember asking my mother where the synagogue was located.

      She looked at me wistfully and said, “A block from our apartment. Not even a block. We could see it from our two bedrooms and from the terrace. It was called the Patronato. It was the prettiest synagogue in Cuba. It was new when we moved next door. We lived so close,...

    • 4 THE KOSHER BUTCHER SHOP
      (pp. 73-75)

      The most photographed kosher butcher shop in the world has to be the kosher butcher shop around the corner from the Adath Israel synagogue on Calle Cuba, between Acosta and Jesus María. Foreign observers are continually amazed to learn the shop is open for business in Castro’s Cuba.

      Rationed kosher beef has been provided in the shop to registered members of the Jewish community since the earliest years of the Revolution. Such generosity toward the Jews is based on a curious cultural interpretation. In Cuba, the most common form of meat is pork, and since Jews are forbidden by their...

    • 5 THE SHIRT THAT HOLDS SADNESS
      (pp. 76-81)

      When I arrive at the Patronato, I walk past the bronze José Martí bust at the entrance, past the framed picture of the great medieval Sephardic doctor and philosopher Maimonides, past the framed picture of Einstein, and go directly inside to the library. There are an assortment of books in Spanish, Yiddish, Hebrew, and English, but most people go to the library not to read but to find out the latest gossip.

      Adela Dworin is sitting at her usual place under the Star of David bookshelf.

      “What’s new?” Adela asks, looking up from some paperwork.

      I tell her that in...

    • 6 LOS PRINSTEIN
      (pp. 82-87)

      The Prinstein family, or los Prinstein, lives just four blocks from the Patronato, and it’s a good thing because they spend so much of their time there. Any day of the week you can see David Prinstein’s 1956 Chevy parked in front of the synagogue.

      Marlen leads Shabbat services on Saturday, teaches Hebrew to the children in the Sunday school, and is one of the leaders of the Israeli folk dance group. In addition, she teaches in the provincial cities of Campechuela and Manzanillo, preparing children who are of bar mitzvah age and adults who wish to convert to Judaism....

    • 7 IN THE REALM OF LOST THINGS
      (pp. 88-93)

      Alberto Behar Medrano, a computer engineer, lives with his wife, Carucha, in the house that belonged to his grandparents, who passed away more than twenty years ago. Located in a quiet neighborhood not far from Havana, the house opens onto the living room where big old rocking chairs rest on pink and brown tile floors so smooth and so spotless as soon as you enter you have an urge to walk barefoot. Alberto says that as a boy he liked to stare at the tile floors and ponder the arabesques of its design.

      Here, you know the ghosts of the...

    • 8 HOW TO PACK YOUR SUITCASE
      (pp. 94-99)

      Alberto Mechulam Cohen is always in a hurry. He has so much nervous energy he can’t sit still, even though he encourages me to take a seat in the living room as soon as I come in. Meanwhile, he keeps pacing.

      Mechulam—no one ever calls him by his first name—has retired recently from his job as a pediatric neurologist. He has a scruffy demeanor but a kind gaze, always looking intently at you with harried eyes over his large glasses. He is a man who finds it natural to worry about the needs of others. For years, every...

    • 9 ENRIQUE BENDER’S BLUE-GREEN EYES REMIND ME OF MY GRANDFATHER
      (pp. 100-107)

      The first time I saw Enrique Bender Solztein at the Adath Israel synagogue, I felt a little spooked—because he seemed to me like an apparition.

      Enrique looks and even sounds like my maternal grandfather, Máximo Glinsky. My beloved Zayde had blue-green eyes, the sweet temperament of a man who could lull cranky babies to sleep, a head of cottony white hair, and he spoke Spanish with a Yiddish accent. Enrique is shorter than my grandfather was, but apart from that, I feel he’s the closest I’ll ever come to feel the aura of my Zayde.

      When I see Enrique...

    • 10 THE DANCING TURK
      (pp. 108-111)

      Pilar Little Bermudez hides her years very well. When we go to visit her at her Vedado apartment, she wears a dress with an orchid print, gold earrings, and a gold necklace. Her white hair is freshly brushed. As she says, “Even though I’m ninety, the moment I wake up I get dressed and put on my makeup.”

      Certainly some of the credit for Pilar’s longevity must go to her daughter, Flor Najmías Little, a retired social worker, who takes impeccable care of her mother. Throughout our conversation, I can’t help noticing how Flor never sits, but stands protectively, like...

    • 11 MONDAY MORNING IN LUYANÓ
      (pp. 112-115)

      Sara Elí Nassy and her daughter, Victoria Cohen Elí, were regulars at Shabbat services at the Centro Sefaradí and over the years I had often sat and talked to them at the lunch following services. These conversations always followed the same pattern: Sara would try to tell me about her life, while Victoria excitedly interrupted and tried to tell the story for her mother, who eventually would lose her patience and yell at Victoria to let her speak, which in turn would leave Victoria in a catatonic sorrow. I soon learned that it’s no secret in the Jewish community that...

    • 12 DANAYDA LEVY’S SCHOOL REPORT
      (pp. 116-119)

      I have known Danayda Levy since she was two years old. In the early 1990s I’d see her with her father, José, who diligently brought her to the Patronato for Jewish schooling at the Sunday morningescuelita. A white Jewish father with a black Jewish daughter was not a common sight around the Patronato in those days and Levy had to put up with more than a few cold stares. He and Danayda’s mother, Florinda, had separated shortly after Danayda was born, but Levy didn’t abandon his daughter. On the contrary: she was a daddy’s girl, the beloved daughter of...

    • 13 MAY DAY WITH A JEWISH COMMUNIST
      (pp. 120-125)

      It’s May Day 2005 and Fabio Grobart Sunshine has graciously agreed to let us accompany him to the Plaza de la Revolución. We want to photograph Fabio amid the crowds who’ll be waving little Cuban paper flags and celebrating the Revolution.

      I can’t think of another Jew in Cuba with whom it would be more appropriate to attend this annual civic ritual. Fabio is often called Fabito to distinguish him from his father, also named Fabio Grobart, a Polish Jew (born Yunger Semjovich) who arrived in Cuba at the age of nineteen and committed himself to the struggle for Cuba’s...

    • 14 THE WHISPERING WRITER
      (pp. 126-128)

      In the Jewish community of Cuba there is only one famous writer and his name is Jaime Sarusky.

      He is very soft-spoken, but not shy. He just seems to be whispering every time he talks, as if he’s perennially in a crowded movie theater and raising his voice would be a disturbance to those around him. There’s a sweetness to his expression and when he smiles he scrunches his eyes and winks impishly.

      Jaime’s father was from Poland and his mother from Byelorussia. They met and married in Cuba, settling in a rural town in Ciego de Avila, but both...

    • 15 THE THREE THINGS JOSÉ MARTÍ SAID ALL REAL MEN MUST DO
      (pp. 129-132)

      I’m able to make an appointment to see Enrique Oltuski Osacki on a Friday afternoon at his office in Jaimanitas, close to the Marina Hemingway, after several phone calls to his wife and several to his secretary. It’s an accomplishment that at the last minute I’ve managed to pin down a time to meet the highest-ranking Jew in the Castro government. A Cuban-born son of Polish immigrants, he was a buddy of Che Guevara and one of the leaders of the July 26th Movement in Santa Clara. Since 1971 he has been vice minister of the fishing industry.

      I am...

    • 16 EINSTEIN IN HAVANA
      (pp. 133-137)

      José Altshuler Gutwert and Ernesto Altshuler Alvárez are an unusual father and son. For one thing, both are accomplished scientists. José Altshuler, the only child of a Polish mother and a father from Belarus, is an electrical engineer by training who grew up in Old Havana. By the time he finished high school in 1947, he had decided to become a Communist. He supported the Revolution and was a key advisor in the development of telecommunications in Cuba. He became president of the National Space Commission and the Cuban Society of History of Science and Technology. In turn, his son,...

    • 17 SALOMÓN THE SCHNORRER
      (pp. 138-140)

      I’ve known him for years, over a decade. While other people come and go, he’s one of the most consistent faces in Havana’s Jewish community.

      He’s the community’s resident schnorrer—Yiddish for freeloader, moocher, beggar. He specializes in asking foreigners—especially women—for handouts. He’ll present a foreign woman with a wilted rose, or any flower he finds while wandering around the city, utter a few flattering words, and ask for a gift in return. If he sees a visitor struggling to find his or her way back to the hotel after a visit to one of the synagogues, he’ll...

    • 18 MR. FISHER’S TWICE-YEARLY GIFTS
      (pp. 141-144)

      It’s Thursday and I take Salomón Bonte Ledierman’s suggestion and go to Adath Israel to witness the visit of Mr. Fisher from Canada.

      The synagogue is Orthodox and the men and the women sit separately. Religious services begin early and at nine a.m. the pews are already almost all full. Usually there are plenty of seats on a weekday morning. I see people praying, but most are half-dozing, distractedly looking around.

      I choose a pew in the back, joining two old women who are deep in conversation. One whispers to the other, “All these people heard that el señor Fisher...

    • 19 BECOMING RUTH BEREZNIAK
      (pp. 145-149)

      Hours later, in the kitchen of the Adath Israel synagogue, there is an intoxicating aroma of boiled milk from thecafé con lecheoffered to the congregants after morning services. Nelsy Hernández Reyes is alone and sitting at an empty table, lost in thought.

      “Do you have some time to talk?” I ask.

      “Yes, I do. Come, sit down.”

      I take a seat next to Nelsy and she smiles brightly. She is looking healthy and strong. The last time I saw her she was at home recovering from breast cancer.

      “What can I do for you?” she asks, watching as...

    • 20 AFTER EVERYONE HAS LEFT
      (pp. 150-152)

      The shuttered door to the balcony is open and the evening breeze feels soft as a silk scarf. The last rays of sunshine want to illuminate the old photographs that Myriam Radlow Zaitman has spread out on the dining table in her apartment in the neighborhood of Santo Suárez.

      “Everyone left, but we decided to stay,” she says.

      I have known Myriam since I first started traveling to Cuba in the early 1990s. She is the trusted secretary of the director of Casa de las Américas, the foremost cultural and literary institute in Cuba, headquartered in an art deco building...

    • 21 THE KETUBAH THAT BECAME A PASSPORT
      (pp. 153-157)

      “We’re trying to create paradise here in our home,” Sara Yaech says as she invites Humberto and me into her freshly painted house on the outskirts of Havana.

      We are barely inside and Sara is already offering us fresh mango juice.

      “From our garden,” she announces proudly, leading the way to the patio behind the house, where her husband, Pedro Mauriz García, is busily sweeping up the debris of leaves from the mango tree. Sara points out how he has built an outdoor fountain, planted flowers in pots, and hung a loveseat-swing between two poles. Their small garden is an...

    • 22 WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN THERE WILL BE NO PAIN OR FORGETTING
      (pp. 158-160)

      Daniel Esquenazi Maya, a retired stevedore, has lived in the same rooftop apartment in Old Havana since 1957. He and his late wife used to rent the apartment, but the owners of the building left following the Revolution, and afterward Daniel, along with the other poor tenants of the building, no longer had to pay anything for their homes.

      An articulate man who was active in the Jewish community long before others found their way to it, Daniel is one of the most photographed, filmed, and interviewed Jews on the island. And he deserves his fame. His parents were Sephardic...

  7. Part Three: Traces
    • 23 TRACES
      (pp. 163-170)

      Upon the Jews still in Cuba has fallen the responsibility of preserving the scattered bits and pieces of Jewish life, the archaeological relics that have survived. At times willingly, at times reluctantly, they have become memory keepers.

      They are the keepers of the mezuzahs that still cling to the thresholds of Jewish houses in Cuba.

      They are the keepers of the Torahs brought from Turkey, which are conserved in the Centro Sefaradí in Havana. Their breastplates are beautiful works of filigree silver, with crowns and mini-arks that have little doors that open, revealing tiny Torahs inside.

      They are the keepers...

  8. Part Four: In the Provinces
    • 24 SIMBOULITA’S PARAKEET
      (pp. 173-178)

      “It was like a tribunal of the Inquisition,” recalls Julio. “They thought it was wrong for educators to have any religious affiliation. They singled me out for receiving matzah.”

      Julio Rodríguez Elí was a teacher for thirty-three years in Caibarién. He started his career working in a secondary school and kept moving up the ladder until he became a principal and a regional director of the schools he helped to found in the countryside. But in the years before the opening to religion in Cuba, his colleagues often questioned him about why he went to Havana to pick up the...

    • 25 SEVEN JEWISH WEDDINGS IN CAMAGÜEY
      (pp. 179-182)

      Julio reaches for a suit that has been in his closet for a long time … to be exact, more than four decades. He’s been waiting for the right occasion to wear it, but that occasion never seems to come.

      “I’d wear this suit, but it’s full of moth holes,” he says. “My Uncle Isaac was going to wear it when he left the country, but it turned out he couldn’t take it with him. They only let people take two pairs of underwear, two pairs of socks, two of each thing. That was in 1962. It’s a pity. The...

    • 26 CHE WAITS FOR A NEW FRAME
      (pp. 183-186)

      An enormous portrait of Che Guevara used to hang at the entrance to Samuel León Profeta’s house in Cienfuegos. It showed Che in the splendor of his youth, eyes cloudless, unsuspecting of the martyrdom that awaited him.

      “Che Guevara is one of the greatest men who ever lived,” says Samuel.

      Given Samuel’s admiration for Che, it is almost to be expected that in the family portrait from 2003, showing Samuel with his wife, daughter, and grandson, it looks as if Che is one more member of the family. It is Che’s arms, rather than Samuel’s, that seem to be embracing...

    • 27 PEARLS LEFT IN CIENFUEGOS
      (pp. 187-192)

      “I find it interesting that Americans feel safe traveling to Cuba,” I say as we drive through a lush landscape of palm trees in the air-conditioned lull of a Havanatur bus.

      Aryeh Maidenbaum shrugs. He’s a Jungian psychologist who organizes Jewish travel to Cuba for the Jewish Museum in New York.

      “It’s true, people are afraid to travel these days. Trips we organized to China, to Spain, got few takers. There was the fear of SARS in Asia, and after the war began in Iraq, and with Spain supporting the United States, people were afraid to go there. But people...

    • 28 THE MOSES OF SANTA CLARA
      (pp. 193-201)

      Like a modern-day Moses, David Tacher Romano is filled with a sense of mission and purpose about the destiny of the Jewish people. Maybe part of his zeal comes from breathing the air of Santa Clara, the city in Cuba most closely associated with the legacy of Che Guevara. When Che was killed in Bolivia in 1967, the exact location of his body was kept a secret to prevent his admirers from turning the site into a shrine. After his remains were found and exhumed in 1997, they were claimed by Cuba, along with the remains of sixteen of his...

    • 29 A CONVERSATION NEXT TO EL MAMEY
      (pp. 202-203)

      Alberto Esquenazi Aparicio riding his bicycle in the city of Santa Clara is an ordinary Cuban doing his errands. I happen to know he’s a Jew from seeing him at the Kabbalat Shabbat services the night before, so I wave him down. I start asking him questions by the El Mamey store, which has a freshly painted façade promising revolutionary victories, but nothing for sale inside. A soft-spoken man, Alberto is too polite to tell me that street corners aren’t the best places to conduct interviews.

      Long before the Revolution came along, Jews in Cuba sought to blend in. As...

    • 30 VILLA ELISA
      (pp. 204-209)

      Sancti Spíritus is all flatland, or so it seems to me when I arrive there at the crack of dawn on a bus from Santiago de Cuba.

      José Isidoro Barlía Loyarte, a math teacher who acts as the president of the Jewish community of Sancti Spíritus, had given me his address on the phone. I hadn’t bothered to ask for directions because I’d become spoiled enough to think we’d be able to take a taxi to his home. But outside the bus station there is only one means of transportation and it’s a horse cart. Not that I have anything...

    • 31 THE COVENANT OF ABRAHAM
      (pp. 210-212)

      David Pernas Levy is a man of unquestionable revolutionary credentials. He fought in the Escambray against counterrevolutionaries in the early 1960s, served in Angola in the late 1970s, worked for years as an adviser on economic and labor issues in the Ministry of Commerce, and cut thousands of pounds of sugarcane. Yet he lives in a dainty house in Camagüey filled with his wife Rosa Huerta Noy’s collection of porcelain elephants, decorative plates, framed pastel landscapes, and plastic flower arrangements.

      After he agrees to be photographed with his revolutionary memorabilia, he asks, “Do you think a lot of people in...

    • 32 SALVADOR’S THREE WIVES
      (pp. 213-215)

      We’ve come to Manzanillo to look for Jews. Salvador Behar Mizrahi, I’ve been told, is one of the registered Jews among the dozen or so who remain in this port city on the southern coast of Cuba. We arrive without warning at his home, and his wife, a gregarious woman in a housecoat, doesn’t seem at all concerned that some strangers are asking to speak to her husband.

      “What a pity! You just missed him. He took off on one of those horse carts that you see everywhere in this town. He’s going to try to find us a leg...

    • 33 A BEAUTIFUL PINEAPPLE
      (pp. 216-219)

      It is May 2005 and Julio César Alomar Gómez is at the synagogue in Santiago de Cuba arranging on a table some pictures and posters that will form part of an exhibit about the Holocaust for the next day’s Yom HaShoah remembrance. The Joint Distribution Committee has provided him images of the Warsaw Ghetto, Auschwitz, and Kristallnacht, “La noche de los cristales rotos” (the night of broken glass), a pogrom carried out in 1938 in German towns, during which windows of synagogues, Jewish homes, and Jewish stores were smashed with sledgehammers while many Jews were beaten to death.

      It is...

    • 34 THE LAST JEW OF PALMA SORIANO
      (pp. 220-226)

      “It would have been better if you’d gone to Palma Soriano like everyone else, so you could see how people travel around here,” Eugenia Farin Levy says. “But I know you don’t have a lot of time.”

      She points to the truck we’re passing on the road. A crowd of people are standing in its rear bed. They are clinging to the frame, if they can reach it, or to one another if they can’t, so as to keep their balance as the truck accelerates.

      Eugenia and I sit side by side in the van that belongs to the synagogue...

    • 35 THE MIZRAHI CLAN IN GUANTÁNAMO
      (pp. 227-232)

      For years I’d been hearing about the Mizrahi clan in Guantánamo. They were all descendants of two Turkish immigrants, Isidoro Mizrahi Mizrahi and his cousin, Elias Mizrahi Nifusi. During the search in the early 1990s for all the Jews still left on the island, the members of this numerous clan were brought back to the Jewish fold. At the time they were so lapsed in Jewish ways that to celebrate the visit of their first Jewish religion teacher they roasted a pig. But the community soon found its way back to its Jewish identity. By the end of the 1990s,...

  9. Part Five: Shalom to Cuba
    • 36 DEPARTURES
      (pp. 235-244)

      The Jewish community in Cuba is elusive. Inhabited by people who can turn into ghosts overnight. You never know who among the Jews still there—people that on the surface appear to be standing with two feet solidly planted on Cuban soil—have filled out papers to leave for Israel. Most of the time you find out someone is definitely leaving on the eve of their departure. Often you don’t know until they have crossed over. I guess people worry about being jinxed, or about the evil eye. Then the moment comes and they get on a plane for the...

    • 37 MY ROOM ON BITTERNESS STREET
      (pp. 245-256)

      “Por favor, quiero la habitación Ruth,” I say to the receptionist at the front desk.

      “Yes, of course, we’ve already set the room aside for you,” the thin woman with the languid eyes replies. “You’ll be the first guest to stay in that room.”

      I thank her, wondering how it is that she and apparently others at the hotel have anticipated my desire to stay in the room named Ruth.

      “Maybe you don’t remember me. I’m María Elena, I’m married to Alberto Zilberstein, the president of the Adath Israel synagogue.”

      It takes me a moment to place María Elena. We...

  10. HOW THIS BOOK CAME TO BE A PHOTOJOURNEY
    (pp. 257-264)

    I think it was my obsession with the old black-and-white photographs from Cuba that nurtured in me a love and appreciation for the medium of photography. As a graduate student I studied black-and-white photography and learned to develop and print my own photographs. I adored large-format cameras and lugged them with me on fieldwork trips to Spain and Mexico. But when I got to Cuba I found that I really wasn’t a photographer at heart—or maybe I couldn’t be a photographer in Cuba. I didn’t want to create distance between myself and other Cubans by holding up a camera...

  11. CHRONOLOGY
    (pp. 265-278)
  12. NOTES
    (pp. 279-282)
  13. BIBLIOGRAPHY
    (pp. 283-288)
  14. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
    (pp. 289-292)
  15. LIST OF PHOTOGRAPHS
    (pp. 293-298)
  16. About the Author and Photographer
    (pp. 299-300)