Desde La Habana

How do I put into words the experience that I’ve lived here in Cuba for the past four months? More importantly, how do I choose those words so that they convey that experience as I lived it, not as I reminisce about it?

With just twelve hours left until I leave this behind, I’ve come to realize that I count Cuba—Havana in particular—as one of the few places where I truly feel at ease. I don’t mean for that to mean that everything is always perfect here nor that things are easy. Every single day since I’ve arrived here I have experienced moments that absolutely infuriate me, others that humble, and others that delight.

Despite the fact that it is a political situation that has made Cuba the incredibly unique place it is, you have to put that aside if you really want to discover what Cuba is. For me, that comes down to two categories: people and places. El pueblo cubano represents the most special part of Cuba for me. From people I’ve known since February to those I just met last week, Cubans have welcomed me into their homes with a warmness that is almost impossible to imagine in the United States. That being said, in some cases my nationality has proven problematic as Cubans who spend time with yumas are often closely watched. Nevertheless, as I literally head up north to colder climates, I know that I’ll miss the warmness Cubans have provided me during my brief stay.

Ah, the places. Cuba is a beautiful island, but over everything, a place that lets itself be discovered easily. You can literally see history here. Aside from the beautiful provinces, the places I’ll miss most are scattered about Havana: the tranquility of the Malecón at sunset and at night, the constant movement of La Rampa, the absurd line at Coppelia, walking the stairs leading to the University, the grit of Centro Habana, the elegance of Miramar, the ridiculous horns people install in their cars, someone asking for the último, the history of Habana Vieja, passing through the tunnel on the P-11 to Habana del Este, the smell of fresh fruit at an agro, the sound of a máquina approaching, and the familiar faces that connect everything together.

And here I am, all packed and nearly done saying goodbye. I’m ready to go back, to be in a country where things function like a real clock, where I don’t have to resolver for everything I want to do, where my family and friends live, but also where we ignore the connections between our success and other’s failures, hardly know our neighbors, and quite frankly, waste much of our opportunities. I am going to appreciate being in the United States like I have never before, but also be more critical than ever to improve it, having seen what is capable elsewhere. The U.S. stands to learn a lot from Cuba, just as Cuba can learn a lot from the U.S. One of my goals in coming here is to help with that process. This website is just the beginning of that.

Farewell Cuba, I’ll always remember you.

Ian Yaffe
June 2, 2008 // 11:46 p.m.
La Habana, Cuba