A week at home

It's Friday. A week ago I was on a PUNCTUAL flight from Havana to Nassau, Bahamas...weird, I know. I didn't think it would show up on time...if at all.

But there I was and here I am. I am no longer sarainhavana, more so reflectivesaraingreensboro.

English is no longer my secret language, I am no longer "YUMA!" or "pretty lady" and I get questions of "How are you?" instead of "where joo from?"

I fear no sandwiches/electrical wires/rocks falling on me as I walk down the street. My dead goat/pig counts are zero. No sacrificed chickens have graced me with their presence.

Although I can't say I miss men cat-calling me down the street, I do miss some sort of interaction. I walk down the street and stare at people in the eye as they pass me just to see if they'll look...

they usually don't.

I've turned on the television to 1) fall asleep 2) watch the Flavor of Love Three finale and 3) laugh at The Office episodes with my parents. I am not so sure why so many channels are so overwhelming. I take that back...so many English channels...aye, mami....

My last week in Havana went by too fast. I'm not even sure it happened.

We had a good-bye cocktail with our teachers and got T-shirts from the Univ. of Havana (but on the back they say they're from Mexico...of course). Needless to say, I fear washing that shirt. It will probably rip apart.
or something. like most things in Cuba.

The last day Kristin, Caitlin and I went on a double-decker bus tour of Havana (one of Raul's new contributions) and we were possibly the worst riders that bus had ever seen. When the woman would say, "And on the left is the Calixto Garcia Memorial," it was hard not to yell "why yes, hello Calixto! Too bad you can't hide that bullet hole marked in your forehead from when you TRIED TO KILL YOURSELF." Or...

Calle 23? Yes, a very important and busy Street in Vedado. Also full of crap. Watch out when it rains.

The Revolutionary Square complete with Che memorial...you know HE'S NOT FROM CUBA. He was born in Argentina. And he's dead.

It was also hard not to get a lil misty-eyed on the bus. Every time I looked at the malecon I couldn't help but think there just had to be one like that in North Carolina...

but there's not.

I got off at the Hotel Presidente to get supplies for our good-bye dinner at the residence that last day. I made trail mix with magical shape cereal, raisins and dibus (chocolate teddy bears). Lizzie made Mac & Cheese...yummy!

We spent the evening drinking Cuba Libres, dancing Irish Step dance (courtesy of the Irish Step dance queen herself, Cayleen Ross) and sitting at the malecon.

All things Cuba. (even the Irish step dancing...can't think of anything more Cuban actually...)

Will continue to write. have lots of time to ponder.

If you are in a good mood and want to ruin it...check dis out:
http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/05/21/bush.cuba/