My Best Upgrade!

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 By Dr. Guillermo de los Reyes

After  seeing the line where we were about to check-in at the Tampa airport, I said to myself, “I wish we were flying United, so I could just go to the VIP line and finish quickly, instead of sitting here waiting.” It turns out that the waiting wasn’t that bad, because I was able to get to know the people who were going on the    trip with me. After all, I was the “stranger” who was invited (or who invited himself) to join a group that had about two months of being together.  When I boarded our charter plane I felt a slight frustration when I saw that the first class area was being used, so I wondered who would get those seats, and I was hoping that I would have been one of the lucky ones (as an avid traveler who gets all sorts of perks, one almost feels that the upgrades to first class are second nature); instead, I was sent all the way to the end of the plane. Again, it turned out to be a good thing; I had the opportunity to sit close to the group and next to my colleague, so I started to feel closer and even part of them.

We got off the plane—the way it was done in the past—when the air hit my face and I felt something that I couldn’t figure out at that moment; it felt good, but that amazing feeling was interrupted after I saw the big immigration and customs lines. Again I wished I had my Global Entry-trusted traveler status to skip everybody and get through it all quickly; instead, I was searched through my veins. I have to admit that having my colleague next to me “enjoying” the same situation helped my anxiety.  At that moment, when I was looking at our students’ faces a few feet behind us witnessing the situation, the only thing on my mind was to stay calm. The intimidation technics from the agent did not work and I even forgot the enjoyment of the privileges I usually get as a frequent traveler. I just focused on the students, my colleague and the people on the other side of security waiting for us (and others for their loved ones; I am sure that the wait sometimes feels like an eternity). After crossing the immigration line, I felt the air again, and as this Cuban air caressed my face I suddenly forgot about what just happened. My previous feelings were transformed by the energy of the people.  Agustina, the Director of Vigía, greeted us with a smile and took us to the cars that were taking us to Matanzas (three cars from the 50s that have many stories to tell).

As I took the front seat, I felt like a child who is discovering a new world. It is true what they say, you don’t know Cuba until you see it, until you feel it. We were welcomed first by a Valley, a Valley that is so beautiful and deep that I wonder if anyone knows it all (as colonialist, when I saw the Valley and other parts of the Cuban landscape, I felt empathetic with the lack of words that Columbus felt when he visited what he called the marvelous New World for the first time).  Then the dozen of Matanzas bridges, the amazing bay, and the buildings from the nineteenth century (almost without any renovations since that time) continued with the welcoming of the UH people. However, the warmest bienvenida was given to us by the matanceros, the people from Vigía and some family members of my colleague Mabel. It was almost incredible that ALL the members of the Vigía staff were there. Nobody called in sick, or had another commitment, or… everybody was there. Even though I thought that was a good sign, I never even imagined that indeed, that sign would become a great omen. The warm reception we received was just a taste of what we were about to experience. I don’t think we ever imagined that we would get to know the Island so well through its people.

We stayed at three different bed and breakfasts that are owned by Cuban families. I had my own room and I shared a bathroom that had no toilet seat, but always had hot water and toilet paper (a privilege that not everybody enjoys in Cuba, in fact it is even rare). They gave me a key to my room, but not to the house, so I had to ring the bell every time I came back to the house. I felt a bit strange, as if I was back in high school, then again, I wished I was at a 4 or 5 star hotel, even one of those that you get cheap on the internet. However, this time two things sent me back to reality. The first was the owners’ hospitality-the time of my arrival didn’t matter and they always opened the door with a smile. The most powerful reality check was after talking to several people from Vigía who have family living in the U.S. or other parts of the world, and finding out that they cannot travel to see them when they want (and it is not a matter of not having the money to travel). They need to “ring the bell” to the Cuban government, but in this case, they are not always greeted with a nice smile.

All of us experienced Cuba as a group— since we did almost everything together (not just among us, the people coming from the US, but also our new Cuban friends) and also as individuals. Personally, my Cuban discovery was like putting together a puzzle; it was a combination of the new knowledge that all the professionals who gave us talks and tours shared with us, along with my previous knowledge of its history, the tales I heard from friends with both, emic and etic views of the Island, the new experiences that my eyes were witnessing as well as the oral histories I collected. Little by little, the Cuban reality was becoming clearer.  The cultural visits, the human exchanges, the propaganda in the streets, the observations of the everyday lives in different parts of the city helped me understand a world that  is so close to my heart and my personal history as someone who grew up in Latin America during the 70s and 80s, but at the same time very distant since I have had the privilege of choosing what I eat, wear, where I study,  work and travel…Perhaps I cannot say I know Cuba, but I certainly can say that I felt Cuba.

            Our days working at Vigía were full of life. Life that does not translate to high tech and smart phones (however, paradoxically, thanks to technology we can share our experiences and keep in touch with our new friends in Cuba), life that goes back to the basics: enjoying conversations, lyrics of poems, musical rhythms, learning new artistic technics taught by the experienced artist Estévez to the new designers like Héctor and Adrian. The Vigía space became a home to us: we learned there, we ate there, we sang and dance there, we laugh there, we cried there. Perhaps it was the fact that we shared all those feelings in that space, at that old house that enchanted us, that captivated us so much that at the end we did not want to leave. We became friends with people from different ages, personalities, credos.  We interacted with award-winning poets and artists, as well as with artisans, historians, accountants, designers, drivers and some members of their families. They all listened to us, talked to us, danced with us, and opened their hearts to us. And it was not only the typical courteous human interaction that we usually receive from people, it was more than that. It was beyond their call of duty, it was special… Something that made me feel really good about our interaction was that it was clear that our UH students were on the same page with them. It was a reciprocal encounter that cannot be explained with words.

My trip to Cuba was unique, so special that I learned life lessons just from walking the streets of Matanzas and learning from the kids who still appreciate the little great things in life. I also learned from our Cuban friends that we can’t ever give up and we cannot lose hope. I also learned from the UH students. Their generosity, maturity and uniqueness taught me that the new generations still have hope and still dream about a better world; they are smart, artistic, creative (one of them is so creative that he claims that there are Penguins in Cuba).  They and their professor, my colleague Mabel, made me feel part of the group. Now I am one of them.

So, at the end of my trip, my experience was beyond immigration searches, embargos, debates between communism vs. capitalism, the lack of comfort and premium access.  At the end of my trip, I not only felt the air hitting my face, I embraced it and discovered its smell.  At the end of my trip, I realized that since the very beginning, I was upgraded, but the upgrade was not the one that gives you a comfortable seat and free food and drinks. This upgrade was a collage of memories, smiles and stories of people from Matanzas and Houston who have discovered and experienced the everlasting light of VIGÍA.