Conversation with a cigar and the world pauses
These are those rare moments when the world pauses. The rain falls gently. And suddenly a conversation begins with a cigar that goes deeper than words. No mobile phones, no noise - just smoke, silence and a story that slowly unfolds. The cigar becomes a narrator, a companion, a bridge to a quieter world. Suddenly I realise: she is talking to me. And I start to really listen.
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The conversation began with the first cigar.
Just listen to the rain. And a cigar that tells stories.
That was my only plan that afternoon. No mobile phone, no music, no conversation. Just the rain, which started quietly and soon hung outside the window like an endless curtain. And a cigar, which I lit to accompany her in silence. But she was not silent.
She spoke to me.
For the first ten minutes, my head was still buzzing with the usual buzz of wasps: Thoughts, appointments, memories. Then I calmed down. And the cigar began to tell its story - quietly, but insistently.
The second cigar deepened the conversation.
She spoke of her origins.
How a tobacco farmer planted a tiny seed in dark, moist soil. How it became a tender seedling, carefully nurtured and protected. How the seedlings were later taken to the field, where sun, water and patience moulded them into strong plants. I could see it before me: the veins in the leaves, the soft rustling in the wind.
The rain became heavier. The flavours deepened.
My cigar told of the harvest. Of women's hands threading the leaves so that they could hang in the drying shed. Of the first fermentation that changed them - not just chemically, but in character. Of the next step: fermentation in wooden houses, where the tobacco began its actual maturing process.
The flavour became more complex. Wood, earth, a hint of cocoa.
Then: sorting according to quality and colour. The blend, the rolling, the application of the cigar ring. The cellophane, the box. And then - the long journey to Europe.
Great conversation!
A journey that changes every cigar.
It suffers in the belly of a ship or aeroplane. It needs time to recover. Sometimes weeks, sometimes months. My cigar has years of ageing behind it. And it tastes better now than ever before - even though it doesn't come from Cuba.
The rain let up.
I put my first cigar gracefully in the ashtray - she had told her story. And me? I had listened.
The second cigar was different.
More complex, stronger, with sweet and nutty notes. Wood was there, clearly noticeable. While the first lightning bolt cut through the sky and a rumble followed, the cigar continued to speak. About its final journey: from the importer's central warehouse to the specialist retailer. And then - to me.
Now it rests in my humidor.
And waits patiently for our next conversation. Maybe the next time it rains.
I wish you a happy cigar smoke!
Watch the film now and see Cuba with different eyes!
Watch on Vimeo if you don't have a YouTube account
Cigar making in Cuba - watch on Vimeo.
Watch on YouTube if you have an account
Cigar production in Cuba. Watch on YouTube.
Picture credits
- Vasilij Ratej
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