Chicoticos Mios: A
Canine Quest
by Anonymous
This fictional photo essay was created as a requirement for Howard
Besser's course, Information
Studies 208, Development of Cultural Information Sources Using Digital Multimedia,
Spring Quarter 2001, in the Department of Information Studies, UCLA. This is
part two of three parts.
Part 2. Green (Click on images
to see larger versions)
As soon as we landed and the cabin door swung open, I smelled the air of Havana
for the first time. 
Not bad. But I didn't have time to linger on all the new scents wafting around
my nostrils. My thoughts were on the chicoticos and where I could find
some. I immediately began looking around the city for some suitable means of
transportation. I found many possibilities. 
But nothing seemed right until, in the parking lot of Havana's poshest nightspot,
I found the perfect vehicle for a little guy like me. 
I jumped into the driver's seat of one of the little go-carts and was on my
way. As I scooted out of the parking lot, whom did I see but Howard Besser.
He was making some sort of sign to me and grinning madly, but I didn't have
time for Howard's antics. No doubt he felt I'd snubbed him as I roared onto
the street, but I could explain later -- the chicoticos were calling
me and I must have them!
As I made my way through the unhurried and music-filled streets of Havana,
I finally began to take notice of some of the architecture around me. 
I also could not help but ponder over some of the murals I saw scattered throughout
the city. 
After a few hours of touring the city, I realized I'd been distracted by the
sights and sounds around me. As if awakening from a dream in an unfamiliar place,
I was suddenly confused and uncertain of why I was parked in a yellow go-cart
in the middle of Havana. Then I remembered -- the chicoticos! How to
find them? If I were sure what they smelled like, I could simply follow my nose
to the source. I needed some other clue...some more information. I then thought
of Howard. Where Howard was, librarians were sure to be nearby. And librarians
knew how find information. Information would in turn lead me to the chicoticos.
Before I could find the chicoticos, I had to find Howard. The prospect
troubled me as I lifted my nose to the wind.
Part 1. Red -- Part
2. Green -- Part 3. Blue
Not bad. But I didn't have time to linger on all the new scents wafting around
my nostrils. My thoughts were on the chicoticos and where I could find
some. I immediately began looking around the city for some suitable means of
transportation. I found many possibilities. 
But nothing seemed right until, in the parking lot of Havana's poshest nightspot,
I found the perfect vehicle for a little guy like me. 
I jumped into the driver's seat of one of the little go-carts and was on my
way. As I scooted out of the parking lot, whom did I see but Howard Besser.
He was making some sort of sign to me and grinning madly, but I didn't have
time for Howard's antics. No doubt he felt I'd snubbed him as I roared onto
the street, but I could explain later -- the chicoticos were calling
me and I must have them!
