Fátima Reyes, Grade 11
UWC Costa Rica
"Cuba is [...] such a complicated, bittersweet place. [...] Literally, when you wake up [...] in the morning in La Havana you don't know where you'll be at noon."
~ Pico Iyer
It was one in the morning. My father and I had been flying for a couple of hours when we finally arrived at the International José Martí Airport, in one of the most historically and politically complicated cities in the world. After picking up our suitcases and changing our dollars for local CUCs, we headed to the airport's entrance to pick up a taxi to our hotel. I couldn't hide my anxiety as we got into the State-owned cab. Sixteen years living in a dangerous Central American city had nurtured in me a natural fear for a male stranger in the middle of the night on an empty highway. As he drove us to our hotel, I admired the somber landscape. Nothing but the moonlight and a few old light posts made the city visible; yet, it didn't take me too long to notice some things were odd. Banners, so common in my home city, were nowhere to be found; traffic lights were suspiciously scarce; and, despite it being two in the morning, children were playing baseball in every park we passed by. I gasped at the sight of young kids waving at us, unable to contain my amazement at what, back home, would have been virtual suicide. Our driver laughed out loud and, in a very Caribbean Spanish that would take me a couple of days to get used to, explained to me that it was very common for young Cubans to go out on their own, even at such late hours into the night. In his own words, they had nothing to fear. My father asked him some follow-up questions I didn't pay attention to. With the wind hitting my tired face, admiring a collection of old buildings, and semi-empty parks, I understood that my one-week stay at La Havana, Cuba would be one I'd never forget.
The next day my father and I got out to experience what our taxi driver meant by getting out when you have nothing to fear. We walked under an unmerciful sun all the way from our hotel to the Plaza de la Revolución (Revolution Square), as he explained to me his understanding of Cuban history. There, completely alone the two of us, we took pictures of the marvelous urban sights. When two police officers walked our way, we panicked to the thought that we might have unknowingly broken a law. To our peace of mind, they merely greeted us and continued their way. As we both stopped to sigh with relief, I noticed yet another odd thing. The air in La Havana is to this day the purest air I have ever breathed, surpassed only by the sea air of Varadero, the splendid beach on the Cuban Atlantic I visited a few days later. We explored the city a couple of hours more before finally heading to the hotel. On our way there, I noticed how it was almost 7:00pm, yet one could not spot a single trace of darkness. It seemed to me like the city was so filled with life that it refused to sleep. I had not been there even 24 hours, yet I was already relating to Brit Marling's words. "Living in Cuba made me unafraid of whatever could happen to me."
After that, the island just kept amazing me time and time again. A statue of a naked woman riding a giant rooster with a huge fork. Finding a baby starfish while swimming at the tranquil Varadero coast. The beautiful women dancing to traditional Cuban music in the streets of La Habana Vieja. An almost spiritual experience from listening to an all-female choir singing Guajira Guantanamera. The astonishing sunset one can appreciate from the pier. The feeling of traveling in time one gets from wandering through the rooms once inhabited by the Che Guevara. The mystical atmosphere as all lights go down, the soldiers' march, and the cannon is shot from the Fortress of San Carlos de la Cabaña at exactly 9:00pm.
For eight full days, I slowly discovered the many wonders that La Havana had to offer, as I uncovered its complex history through people that came from the most unexpected places. A middle-aged woman with an engineering degree selling phone cards on the street; a young man guiding us through the José Martí Memorial; the Minister of Education; a high school student while we toured a Science Institute. Every person I met, every story I heard changed my perception of Cuba and its more than complex history. Behind every classroom lesson on the missile crisis or the harm of communism, there are loud and fast-talking faces, dancing to the best Caribbean beats. There are hands that make the best rice-and-beans I have ever tried. There are joyful kids that grow up unafraid to wander the streets at one in the morning. There are officers that will politely laugh at you for trying to cross the street on the wrong end. There are taxi drivers that will let you take pictures with their spectacular 1956 Chevy Bel Air. Cuba might not have stopped being a country struck by decades of dictatorship, knotty political relationships with the world's superpowers, or the aftermath of a radical revolution, but my brief stay reminded me that there is always another side to the story. I was able to experience the beauty in an otherwise misrepresented country, and look forward to the day I visit it again.
Quoting once again the great British essayist Pico Iyer, "for centuries, Cuba's greatest resource has been its people," and I am forever thankful I got to meet some of them.
Two quotes I love:
"Cuba may be the only place where you can be yourself and more than yourself at the same time." ~ Pedro Juan Gutiérrez
"In Cuba and specifically in Havana here's a sort of energy that turns every situation into something unexpected." ~ Fernando Pérez
~ Pico Iyer
It was one in the morning. My father and I had been flying for a couple of hours when we finally arrived at the International José Martí Airport, in one of the most historically and politically complicated cities in the world. After picking up our suitcases and changing our dollars for local CUCs, we headed to the airport's entrance to pick up a taxi to our hotel. I couldn't hide my anxiety as we got into the State-owned cab. Sixteen years living in a dangerous Central American city had nurtured in me a natural fear for a male stranger in the middle of the night on an empty highway. As he drove us to our hotel, I admired the somber landscape. Nothing but the moonlight and a few old light posts made the city visible; yet, it didn't take me too long to notice some things were odd. Banners, so common in my home city, were nowhere to be found; traffic lights were suspiciously scarce; and, despite it being two in the morning, children were playing baseball in every park we passed by. I gasped at the sight of young kids waving at us, unable to contain my amazement at what, back home, would have been virtual suicide. Our driver laughed out loud and, in a very Caribbean Spanish that would take me a couple of days to get used to, explained to me that it was very common for young Cubans to go out on their own, even at such late hours into the night. In his own words, they had nothing to fear. My father asked him some follow-up questions I didn't pay attention to. With the wind hitting my tired face, admiring a collection of old buildings, and semi-empty parks, I understood that my one-week stay at La Havana, Cuba would be one I'd never forget.
The next day my father and I got out to experience what our taxi driver meant by getting out when you have nothing to fear. We walked under an unmerciful sun all the way from our hotel to the Plaza de la Revolución (Revolution Square), as he explained to me his understanding of Cuban history. There, completely alone the two of us, we took pictures of the marvelous urban sights. When two police officers walked our way, we panicked to the thought that we might have unknowingly broken a law. To our peace of mind, they merely greeted us and continued their way. As we both stopped to sigh with relief, I noticed yet another odd thing. The air in La Havana is to this day the purest air I have ever breathed, surpassed only by the sea air of Varadero, the splendid beach on the Cuban Atlantic I visited a few days later. We explored the city a couple of hours more before finally heading to the hotel. On our way there, I noticed how it was almost 7:00pm, yet one could not spot a single trace of darkness. It seemed to me like the city was so filled with life that it refused to sleep. I had not been there even 24 hours, yet I was already relating to Brit Marling's words. "Living in Cuba made me unafraid of whatever could happen to me."
After that, the island just kept amazing me time and time again. A statue of a naked woman riding a giant rooster with a huge fork. Finding a baby starfish while swimming at the tranquil Varadero coast. The beautiful women dancing to traditional Cuban music in the streets of La Habana Vieja. An almost spiritual experience from listening to an all-female choir singing Guajira Guantanamera. The astonishing sunset one can appreciate from the pier. The feeling of traveling in time one gets from wandering through the rooms once inhabited by the Che Guevara. The mystical atmosphere as all lights go down, the soldiers' march, and the cannon is shot from the Fortress of San Carlos de la Cabaña at exactly 9:00pm.
For eight full days, I slowly discovered the many wonders that La Havana had to offer, as I uncovered its complex history through people that came from the most unexpected places. A middle-aged woman with an engineering degree selling phone cards on the street; a young man guiding us through the José Martí Memorial; the Minister of Education; a high school student while we toured a Science Institute. Every person I met, every story I heard changed my perception of Cuba and its more than complex history. Behind every classroom lesson on the missile crisis or the harm of communism, there are loud and fast-talking faces, dancing to the best Caribbean beats. There are hands that make the best rice-and-beans I have ever tried. There are joyful kids that grow up unafraid to wander the streets at one in the morning. There are officers that will politely laugh at you for trying to cross the street on the wrong end. There are taxi drivers that will let you take pictures with their spectacular 1956 Chevy Bel Air. Cuba might not have stopped being a country struck by decades of dictatorship, knotty political relationships with the world's superpowers, or the aftermath of a radical revolution, but my brief stay reminded me that there is always another side to the story. I was able to experience the beauty in an otherwise misrepresented country, and look forward to the day I visit it again.
Quoting once again the great British essayist Pico Iyer, "for centuries, Cuba's greatest resource has been its people," and I am forever thankful I got to meet some of them.
Two quotes I love:
"Cuba may be the only place where you can be yourself and more than yourself at the same time." ~ Pedro Juan Gutiérrez
"In Cuba and specifically in Havana here's a sort of energy that turns every situation into something unexpected." ~ Fernando Pérez
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