I can’t really describe the way I felt leaving Cuba on Monday morning. I was still on the rush of being there in the first place, but then it hit me that I had to turn around again so soon. It was an incredible few days and I wanted nothing more than to stay for, well, forever basically. I had returned with all my questions from the past six months, none really of which were answered, and I didn’t want to leave again and have to start missing it all over again. At the same time, it wasn’t quite as traumatizing as before because I barely had time to blink before I was heading back to reality. Although, which is reality? The life that I am living in the states because that’s my life by default, or the life I live in Cuba, that makes me feel the most alive? Heading back to Jose Marti airport, hand in hand with that guy I love, chatting to the taxi driver about the weather, the concert, the people heading to work, etc, I just wanted to tell him to turn around. It was a weekend that, as short as it was, was worth every penny. And every moment I was there, every sight that was refreshed in my mind, every hug from a friend, all reinforced the roots my heart has in that island.
I’ve been back in the states again for a week, and my mind remains in Cuba. It was still there six months after leaving the first time, which I think is why it felt normal to be there. My mind and heart are always there. And coming back wasn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be. I felt culture shock as soon as I stepped into the touristy, US terminal in Nassau, as I got onto the American-bound plane, as I headed to work on the T the next day. It was a whirlwind of missing Cuba, feeling guilty of what I have here, and feeling utterly confused by everything. No matter how hard I try or how many times I go over in my head the many things about Cuba and my relationship that confuse me, I know I will never figure either of them out completely. I don’t know that it’s possible honestly. I despise the system that makes life hard for the Cubans I know and love, that takes away their opportunities for freedom and their hopes for a future. And yet I am constantly craving a life that is more Cuban. Despite the system they have to struggle through everyday, sometimes just to survive, they know how to live. They look at life positively, because that’s the only way they can stay sane, they still have so many dreams, even though they have little hope of them coming true, they value friends and family more than anything, they know how to have a good time without the presence of material things, and they love more fully than anyone I know.
And so I will continue to keep my mind and heart in Cuba so that I will never forget the important things in life, and so that I can learn, through the friends, family, and boyfriend I have found in Cuba, how to live and love as fully as I can.
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