La República de Cuba | final thoughts

we had lots of people ask "why cuba?" and we made the realization that to generations behind us it may seem like visiting afghanistan or iran to our generation (maybe that's not a fair...). but, cuba is like a lost world. we watched people barter for food, cigarettes, and other commodities with bucket and pulley systems from windows stories and stories high. we talked with locals about how hard life is and how hopeless change seems. we made friends with a bar tender with dreams of a better life, somewhere far, far away...with hope in his eyes, but sadness for what that really meant.

things we'll remember about cuba: open doors and windows, a glimpse into everyone's lives. chippy paint, bright and hanging on. splurging on breaky our last day (for a grand total of $16.00) at the oldest hotel in havana. old american cars, as glorious as they said they would be. comida tipica (big tamales, pork tacos, rice...). walking, hand in hand, dreaming, free and wild. a box of cuban stogies and cheap t-shirts for the boys.

La República de Cuba, part 4

after 4 glorious days of nothing but sun and sand between our toes, we hopped in a taxi and headed back to havana for our last night. this time we were in central havana and our airbnb was a modern, up-to-date, fully renovated room. 

we took our time walking around, soaking in the sights and smells, the sounds, the people in street one last time. mike played soccer in the street with the kids, i stole photos of people living their lives, not completely unaware of us. as we walked, we we wondered at what this city once was. buildings (huge and marvelous) that used to house whole factories (making bags, shoes, etc), now housing people with stories of their own. 

cuba is something that i'll never forget. people in the streets, all day and night. music floating in and out of our windows flung open. coffee, a commodity and hot showers too. a bar tender turned friend. a taxi ride to the coast. colors, faded yet bright, chipping away, but somehow hanging on. 

there's still so much to process. but the time with just my mikey is tucked away deep in my memory (and heart) .. i'm sure when times are crazy and full and messy i'll slip back to reading hemingway on the beach soaking in the caribbean sun with a daiquiri in hand, when life was simple & free just for a bit.