It was pouring when we touched down on the pavement at Jose Marti International airport. Pouring so hard that even the workers who tried to get shelter under the plane’s wings were soaked through. But I didn’t care. Yes I had straightened my hair and done my makeup for the occasion but at that point I didn’t care about any of that. I was in La Habana again.
It was a refreshing, nostalgic, and strange feeling I had as I saw the familiar yellow airport signs and the rapid garbled sounds of Cuban Spanish hit my ears. I couldn’t suppress my smile, the joy I felt to be on the island again. And I knew, as unbelievable as it felt, that soon I would be seeing Jose again.
I got into the taxi and we were headed to my destination…the corner of Quinta y A. As we drove away from the crowded aiport and into the busy streets filled with old trucks, noisy cars, and clouds of diesel fumes, the taxi driver started playing some Ludacris. Turns out, “What’s Your Fantasy” is considered appropriate cab music in Cuba. So as the driver jammed to Luda’s insightful lyrics, I soaked in everything I saw as if I was either in a crazy good dream or just waking up from a bad one. We passed the billboards that basically labeled Bush a terrorist, the ones promoting socialism, calling for the libertad of the Cuban 5, etc. People stood waiting for the infrequent buses along the roadside, passing cars honked at the women strutting by. I could already feel the heat seeping into my skin, despite the cloudy skies and I tried to prepare myself for what was coming. What will it be like, will I cry, will I know what to say? I had no idea what to expect. As we got closer and then entered into Vedado, my heart was racing. I felt like I was coming home and every familiar sight made my heart beat with life and a pure joy to be seeing them again for real, not just in my mind. We pulled up to Jose’s house and as I looked up and saw him waiting on his balcony, I felt my stomach turn with anticipation, nervousness, and butterflies. And then I was in his arms. Finally in his arms.
That evening and night was surreal to say the least. I was seeing everything and none of it had changed. I was once again with Jose and it all felt completely normal, but at the same time I didn’t believe it was happening. But either way, I couldn’t stop smiling; as I met Jose at the salon, a place I have dreamt about and all the memories that the whole group had there, as we met up with Jose’s friends Ruben and Alex, as we ate at Sol y Mar and walked along the Malecon, as we danced the night away under the stars of Havana’s clear sky. Every moment was an adventure that night, and the whole weekend.
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