Words and Pictures Are Not Enough

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By Norma Santos

Words and pictures are not enough and cannot describe what I am about to write, but here it is how my story began.  A year ago I took a Literature class with Dr. Mabel Cuesta, where she mentioned to us whether or not we would be interested on a trip to Cuba as part of the course. I without a doubt and not knowing the purpose of the trip didn't question it and volunteered to participate. For me, it was the ideal trip since I am also majoring in Architecture.  Also, I found it to be a great opportunity to see and explore Cuba’s unique architecture, since I have always known that it is lost in time and for me it was something that I had to see with my own eyes.

Finally, the time to register for the course had come, soon after the first day of class arrived, and then in a blink of an eye I was already in Cuba. As we arrived, I could not stop admiring my surroundings. Although, I knew that we were detained in time, during the car ride from Havana to Matanzas I wondered in what moment would a recognizable building appear upon my eyes. Fortunately, there were no Renzo Piano museums, Frank Lloyd Wright’s homes, or César Pelli’s skyscrapers. I did not recognize anything instead, I let my imagination loose and admired empty sites which met the intense waves of the sea, the antique houses and cars, the locals tired of waiting for the bus, the green hills, the blue of the sky, and the bright sun. I know those Cubans often dream of someday having more than just these empty sites. I know they dream with a home near the sea, or on the green hills admiring the sky. Without a doubt it is the perfect place, site, and scenery for an architect, since it could drive our imagination to dream up the most marvelous of buildings and ideas. Unfortunately, it can only live in our imagination for now since those sites will remain empty for years come.

               As we arrived to Ediciones Vigia, in the city of Matanzas, we were welcomed with open arms to our new and unforgettable friends. I still could not believe that I was there, living in a past while at that very same time, we are in the present. The remarkable neoclassical architecture kept impressing me and transporting me to another era. It was amazing to see that these buildings are still intact; obviously they also need a lot of restoration which would take a lot of time and money, but to my understanding there is so little that gets done in order to preserve these treasures. Besides the architecture, the amazing hearts of our new never-ending friends caught my attention. I never thought that sitting at a plaza could be more than enjoyable. We lived just like them with no cell phones, no computers, no internet, NO FACEBOOK. I was shocked when I asked for their e-mails and instead I got a piece of paper with their mailing addresses. We lived, slept, ate, thought, talked, sang, worked with our hands, danced, laughed, cried, enjoyed, walked, and learned to the maximum. In a week it seemed like I had been gone for a year. We did so much and had quality time with our friends, so much so, that all the technology and modern buildings became secondary. Instead we valued the “little” things that we often take for granted in life. We would talk for hours without being stressed about time, while we sat outside breathing pure air. I remember one of our new friends, my new brother, asked me “Norma why do you stress so much about time?” It is true we are always in a rush trying to get somewhere and we don’t appreciate the time we spend with the people around us, yet for him time is something that will always be there and remind him that there is nowhere and somewhere to be at. We would walk along the bay hearing the pleasing waves, the quiet town, and danced to the beat of our new friends. We got to know our new friends and they got to know us. There was no text or phone call that interrupted our conversations. It was a one-on-one dialogue. When it was time to work on the books we would sing and everyone had a smile on their face, even though we were all doing the same over and over again. It is truly impressive to witness the creativity they put on this books. These books are an art, and not just on the cover or content but every page is full of originality, which makes none of the books the same. Both the architecture, as well as, learning about content and art of these books, was the cherry on top of a great cake. And just like those books, those days were “hand-crafted” none of them were the same; they were original, unique, remarkable, and unforgettable.