This note should have come with the first post so sorry guys but here goes anyway.
I am finally getting around to sharing my experience in Cuba. I wrote most of these on the trip so you will find some weird tenses here and there. Forgive me. Over the past few days, I have been sharing what were my diary entries, collated into concise blog posts.
I know most of my audience are Nigerians so i would like to encourage you guys to go to Cuba. You will be mindblown. You will feel right at home. It is also visa hassle free. I had no visa, just my Nigerian passport. It is also cheap right now. Because there are still so many restrictions. So DO IT!
PS: I am making a bucket list of places to go in the next 5 years. What is on your bucket list? Tell me in the comments.
I want to come here again. To Cuba. But also to Havana. And spend more time in the city, less on the beach. Drink daiquiris at El Floridita and maybe learn something from Hemingway by way of osmosis. I just want to take my time discovering the city and its people.
There is so much rich culture here. I have also never seen such an atrocious level of begging. Everyone wants a peso for everything. I think it is because they have come to depend on tourists and the foreign benefits they bring for their livelihood.
There are so many black people here and I can see the long arm of slavery. But here, I never saw anyone be racist. Not even once. I have had people call me beautiful, wink at me, men and women alike, flirt with me- young and old men, etc.
I heard a song the other day and understood some of it because it was Yoruba. My people, my people, the most dedicated nomads ever. It made me feel at home. In the end, we are all connected.
Writers, Creative people would thrive here. I think I understand why Hemingway loved it. Everything is so old that it is easy to see into the future. You could wake up in the morning, drink coffee and watch the world go by from your balcony.
In the evenings you could walk down the avenues and into the parks and be inspired by the sounds of the living. Or maybe you could saunter past all those old cars and listen to the young lovers in them as they kiss with such fervor and promise to always love each other. Or at night, you could eat dinner on some of the stairs in the old part of town and listen as the different musicians make their sounds. Trumpets, saxophones, guitars, drums, tambourines… Or watch the old people drag in cigar smoke as if they are counting on it being their last breath. Phew. I could write 5 books in 1 year here.
I have never seen a city so colorful. From the clothing of the people to the houses. And the cars, oh heavens, the beautiful, beautiful cars.
Again Che is everywhere. But here I got to see Fidel too. I saw a Militray Museum. There is a flame in front of it that never goes out. It burns for everyone who died while serving the country. That brought tears to my eyes.
Cubans are a people that don’t let go or forget easily. They hold onto the past. They do it gracefully. They know that the past is where the future is birthed from. They know to forget is to be disloyal to those that now live in the past. I wish Nigeria paid one-tenth of that attention to its past. But we won’t go there. We won’t go where and how this trip made me feel about Nigeria.
It is time to go back to the beach now and I am excited. One more day in the water. The weather has been perfect these past 5 days. One more day of this and it would be the perfect topping on a great vacation.
So very thankful to be here. So very thankful that God made this place, these people and that He is here, there and everywhere.
Song of the day: Enrique Inglesias- Don’t turn off the light