Michael Kubit

The first day in Cuba along with the initial departure was a great test in flexibility and appreciation of travel and visiting foreign countries. The day started at four in the morning for me as I rushed last minute packing and preparation, this was also done on a significant lack of sleep. Luckily, I didn’t forget or miss anything, but I really did learn that procrastination when it comes to something as vital as packing really should be avoided.

Arriving at the airport and waiting for the first flight to arrive was a great test in patience but also in meeting and making new friends. The initial check-ins through security went decently alright though I did make a few mistakes in not taking off my money belt during item check which earned disgruntlement from the guard. It was exceedingly difficult not to fall asleep waiting for the plane to come but I found I would not have to as more people came in. The general energy was muted but still excited for what was to come, some people never flew or traveled before while others knew one another from prior trips and hit it off.

The wait at the airport was riddled with bureaucratic and scheduling issues though as our flight was delayed and moved, leading to more grogginess and some fear of missing our connecting flight. The plane ride to Miami was grueling and a bit claustrophobic, it was difficult to sleep because I was in the middle aisle but it was likewise hard to stay awake. I took to reading and minor conversation to pass time but I really felt each hour come and go. Landing was not that much of an improvement as we learned that we were on the precipice of missing our flight to Havana. It was because the pilot was stuck in traffic that the flight was delayed enough for us to make it on time. Despite the flight attendants asking that people without connecting flights remain seated to let us out faster, everyone ahead of us tried to leave, making the wait longer. We had to literally run to our needed gate, which combined with the much warmer climate of Florida made me realize how different Cuba was going to be. The plane ride to Havana was much simpler and cleaner than the Miami flight. I was able to sleep through most of it though I found it poetic how despite the blockade and exceedingly hostile tensions with Cuba, the flight was only an hour which I felt really hammered in how close the Cubans are to America and how issuing such an embargo was unsustainable.

Landing in Havana in the aptly named Jose Marti Airport was my first experience seeing a foreign nation, the rolling landscape coupled with the lush greenery shocked me. I don’t know what I expected the land in Cuba to look like but I did not expect it to look so different to Florida or anywhere else I’ve seen in the U.S. The check in process in the airport was also eye opening as it would serve as a general outline for what the rest of the trip would be like, cheery and welcoming people and buildings and utilities with a distinct age and wear to them. The air felt different then in America, denser and laced with smog. The procedures at the airport were similar though distinct from the TSA in America, the lines were much longer, the airport was more compact and utilitarian; not packed with stores and shopping areas everywhere.

I noticed a greater amount of diversity in the airport staff along with a distinct lack of militarized security. Egressing the airport saw my first view of Cuba on the ground which was awe inspiring, the classic cars as well as the climate hit me first as the biggest changes from Massachusetts. Getting into the bus and driving through Cuba made me resolute in my prior opinions of the country; that through resilience and community pride the Cuban people managed to hold together as a country in spite of the economic situation. The streets were cracked and dirty, the houses with chipped paint and decay, trash and rubble littered spots on the streets with people mulling through the roads without care of crosswalks. The mindset was distinctly frugal and utilitarian with patch work cars and bikes plowing through both dirt and chipped roads, spewing a uniquely Cuban smog underneath the lush greenery and hills surrounding the city. Despite the grime and detritus coat, a spirit of vibrancy and pride bled through the city. Pastel colors, lights and sounds burst through the ramshackle state of things; classical pillars and ornate intricacy dotted the skyline and buildings. Through the entirety of the trip there was an overwhelming sense of an underlying almost sleeping Cuban patriotism and vigor, coated with the dust and history of the blockade and revolution. The Cuban people would paint the visages of Castro and Che mixed with the colors of revolution and the national flag, in defiance and pride of the situation they find themselves in.

Such a contrast between Havana and Boston forced me to think on how narrow the American perspective on Cuba was as I realized in the bus that it could take a lifetime to explore the entirety of Cuba and appreciate all it had to offer. Driving through the plaza of the revolution and the surrounding sprawl drew further difference from the states where instead of advertisements and shops overwhelming the eye, it was purely the city that looked back. We eventually made it to the residencia where I was shocked at how well maintained and tall it was, it looked like a well off building in Florida which surprised me that Cuba was able to keep such buildings well kept. Again, vibrant pastels and ornate geometry defined the town block we were in while simultaneously being littered by specs of trash and dirt. The sidewalk in some areas was literally crumbling due to trees taking refuge in it. The residencia itself housed neat beds and furniture which I assume dates back to the 1900s, two pianos and renaissance-styled artwork; tiled floors with planted pottery lining the walls and ceiling giving a sense of coziness and naturality. The food given was presented in a family-style dig in which tasted rich and organic. I gathered that the effort to create and present meals with the limited resources available was impressive, I still find it insane how many dishes and amenities available were created with such little available. The group then had an orientation on the potential dangers in Cuba. I never encountered trouble in Havana though I did find it interesting that the plumbing could handle toilet paper due to the advanced age of the piping.

All in all the awe and inspiration of seeing Cuba for the first time drove home a great contrast between Havana and the United States in culture and makeup. The way the Cuban people portray their national story through their art, architecture, music, politics, food and religion culminates in a resolute people determined to hold onto their sovereignty and pride. It would seem that the dearth of resources has crafted a unique sense of innovation and survivalism. I am left with the impression that the Cuban people will continue to tackle every challenge ahead with determination.