The
final day on the Island began like all the others, an early
breakfast, then checkout, then a leisurely pile onto the bus for a
couple of stops before our afternoon plane ride back to Miami.
We
stayed in the neighborhood, traveling to Lazaro's home. Not
necessarily known outside of Cuba, Lazaro is an artist who medium of
choice is papier mache. He papers everything, his home, including
the walls and ceilings as well as the commode. On Saturdays, he
teaches local children how to do art. Not just papier mache, but
other art forms as well, all of this taking place at a table outside
his front door.
We
watched the kids, some of whom we'd met a few days earlier, craft
what turned out to be gifts for us, the visiting Americans, signed by
the young artist and Lazaro, too. Several neighbors came out to
watch us, including a cantankerous old guy who tried to pour water on
us from an upstairs apartment. He claimed it was an accident,
however. Taking pictures I had a very good vantage point of what
really took place and it was no accident, but it was laughed off by
all as a harmless prank from a bored old man.
Our
final meal was taken at a restaurant/club right across the street
from our hotel. It was a Jazz Club featuring live music and good food
to night time visitors. The music was canned since we climbed the
four flights of stairs in the afternoon heat.
Have
I said there is usually no air conditioning and no elevators in most
of the very tall buildings? Everything is a walk up, and then they
want you to dance, this rant courtesy of the lazy American in me.
The
food was great especially when washed down with one last authentic
mojito.
It
was time to return to Jose Marti International Airport, customs,
security checks, paying of all exit fees, passport checks and
boarding of the plane. Takes a few hours of mainly standing line to
be seen. Once the plane took off, we were back in Miami within 45
minutes.
Following
another round of US Customs, more really huge lines, we were free to
disperse and become faceless Americans in our own country again.
As
I write this, I've been back four months to the day. I have
hesitated to write this last entry because I'm not ready to put my
Cuban Adventure to bed, just yet. The memories and pictures have
sustained me, keeping alive the good times and helping me figure out
how to make my next trip even better.
Better,
because I know that I will be returning at my first opportunity. I
hope that when I do the United States will have relinquished its
animosity and lifted the ban, normalizing relations. We are family,
after all.
Cuba
represents more of our history which should be told and experienced
by all of us. “A history without holes,” as Dr. Faya described
it.
Afro-Cuban-American
History without Holes.
What
a concept.
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| Us with Lazaro |
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| Marie and Me |
