For 50 years I eagerly listened to stories about Cuba from my parents, family, family friends, and even strangers. With the passing of my Papi and my Mami I began to long for the connection we shared with our birth-land. After months of planning, myself along with my two daughters and a close friend traveled approximately 93 miles south of Key West to the Pearl of the Antilles.
DAY 1
After a short 58 minute flight from Orlando International Airport we arrived at José Martí International Airport in Havana with eight duffel bags and suitcases containing 400 pounds or 181 kilograms of clothing, shoes, jewelry, makeup, medicines, nail polish, hygiene products, candy, pens, computer tablet, and other miscellaneous items for my family remaining in Cuba. I traveled with my U.S. Passport and my required special Visa for Cuban born individuals having left Cuba prior to 1970. Had I left Cuba after 1970, my travel would only be permitted with my Cuban passport. I proceeded to immigration nervously. Would I be allowed to enter the communist country I left 50 years ago? The screen flashed “persona no controlada” (person not controlled). I arrived without incident! My cousin, Maria Rosa, my Mami’s goddaughter, and her husband, Luis, were waiting anxiously for us. Mimita, her nickname, every Cuban has a nickname, and I exchanged numerous emails and reconnected prior to our arrival. We shared photos via email and recognized each other immediately.
Army Navy Duffle bags
These duffle bags were carefully packed and weighed to not exceed Jet Blue’s 50 pound weight requirement. The four of us were allowed two bags each.
I quickly, well nothing is quick in Cuba, provided my passport and exchanged Euros at a cadesa (currency exchanger) and headed to our casita particular in Vedado, a central business district and urban neighborhood in Havana. A casa particular or casita in Cuba is a private house similar to a bed and breakfast. Hotels are owned by the state while casitas are owned by the people. Mimita procured our casita, Casa Lary-Mario at Calle L # 256 e/ 17 y 19, piso 8, Apartamento 801, Vedado, La Habana. Addresses in Cuba provide the two streets between (e/). A meticulously clean three bedroom and two bathroom casita with a balcony overlooking el Malecón was our home for 9 days. Upon check-in we provided the owner with our passports and full payment.
After dropping off our bags we walked about four blocks north to Mimita’s house. Mimita and her husband cooked a traditional almuerzo (lunch) for us at their home. We sat at their table alongside my Tía Nena, Mimita’s mom and my Mami’s eldest sister. The table was beautifully set with mismatched dishes, glasses, and silverware. We feasted on chicharitas (fried thin banana chips), puerco asado (roasted pork), moros y cristianos (black beans and rice cooked together), yuca con mojo (root vegetable with olive oil and garlic) and sliced tomatoes. It reminded me of the many meals my family continued to enjoyed once we immigrated to the United States. True to Cuban culture they were insistent we serve ourselves more! After our almuerzo we enjoyed the Cuban tradition of sobre mesa (after dinner talk while still seated at the table). Full, both physically and emotionally, we returned to unpack and settle into our casita. We sat on our balcony and inhaled the views, sounds, and smells of the nearby Atlantic Ocean, Soviet and Colonial architecture, noisy diesel cars on the streets below, and people speaking in Spanish. It was heaven.
The welcome almuerzo Luis and Mimita prepared for us. Chicharitas a la Luis and the apparatus that sliced the banana to the perfect thinness.
Once settled, we strolled down the street to el Malecón, a seawall stretching five miles or eight kilometers along the Atlantic coast of Havana. El Malecón is a social center where Cubans and tourists enjoy drinking, dancing, socializing, and romance. From there we went in search of ETECSA, the company which sells Wi-Fi cards. Wi-Fi access is limited to parks and hotels. After a couple failed attempts in locating the right building, I waited outside in queue for about 30 minutes until I was signaled to ascend the fifteen steep stairs to the next clerk. Again I provided my passport and purchased nine one-hour cards for 18 CUC ($18 dolars), roughly 3/4 of a monthly Cuban salary, providing me limited access to the world outside of Cuba.
Later Luis drove us to Nazdarovie, a retro-Soviet paladar (restaurant run by the people) located at 25 Malecón in La Habana. Mimita dined with us while Luis returned to care for my Tía Nena who was 88 but still sharp tongued. We shared vodka martinis, salmon with caviar, borscht, and vareniki domashnie (pasta filled with mashed potatoes) on the terrace while waiting to hear the cannon ceremony held each night at 9 pm at La Cabaña Fortress. The cannon was evasive, we would try another night.
Mimita texted Luis and he drove us back to our casita. The girls were exhausted and called it a night while my friend and I decided to venture out in search of a cerveza (beer) and some music. We didn’t have to walk far, as we found Nene’s Paladar a block from our casita. There we listened to musicians sing Guantanamera, Bésame Mucho, and Unforgettable while we enjoyed a Cristal cerveza. I left with a home recorded CD of the band. We walked backed to our casita where we sat on our balcony for a bit before calling it a night and retiring to our bedrooms, each with wall unit air conditioners.
Nene’s Paladar is located on the porch of the colonial building behind the classic car. The CD included some of the songs we heard that evening.
My first day was perfect…more than I imagined. I slept with contentment.
· izzy
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