Day 22: This is a guest post I wrote for my incredible roommate Shira’s blog, curlyincuba.tumblr. today, which was, sin duda, my worst day in Cuba. Um. Hi. Shira’s Cuban roommate Renee updating on her behalf. Except I’m not actually Cuban. I’m Mexican. From Texas. Yes, I say y’all and was probably handed an NRA membership card along with my birth certificate. I like my Easterner roommates just fine, but I do have to say, Texas is the greatest state in the union. Seriously, we have Whataburger…just like you like it. But, I’m not here to list the numerous accolades of the lone star state because we’re currently in Cuba. Besides being the only Texan on this trip, I’m also unique amongst the group members because I’m the only one who’s been to Cuba before. I was here in Havana last February for about ten days during my school’s spring break with a class on Cuban culture. Side note, I go to Rice University in Houston, Texas, home of the buckey ball, 2003 College Baseball World Series champions, and JFK’s, “We Go to the Moon” speech. Anyways, my previous experience in Cuba definitely makes me feel, and, perhaps, process this adventure differently than the rest of the students. My trip in February left me completely enamored with the country; however, upon spending more time here, my observations and new experiences have significantly changed my relationship with Cuba. When I left here last time, I considered myself an expert on all things Cuba. In retrospect, however, I knew absolutely nothing. I had wasted ten days superficially delving into the complexity that is the Cuban nation. This trip has been a completely eye-opening experience in the sense that it has pointed out all of the observations I should have made the first time around. Such blatant naiveté leads me to question if my peers are going through the same process: if they came back again, would they see Cuba in a completely different light the way I do now? Learning about other cultures is difficult in the sense that it requires empathy. Text books, documentaries, lectures, and the slew of other materials presented in a classroom only go so far. In order to truly understand something, in my opinion, you must experience it first-hand. Empathize to internalize, más o menos. So, in my best attempt to relate Cuba to you, Shira’s adoring readers, I will call upon what I know seemingly too much yet almost nothing about: relationships. Cuba is like your first love. In the beginning, you’re completely consumed with an overwhelming feeling of adoration: however, as time passes and passion wanes, you begin to see that person for who they truly are: flawed, broken, and, at times, completely disappointing. Regardless of how things end, there’s always a special feeling for that first love, but sometimes it’s best to keep your distance. I love Cuba, but I hate the way Cuba makes me feel. I hate the way men objectify me, women ostracize me, and how every person interacts with me for what I $tand for. Perhaps such feelings could be avoided if I could avoid Cubans. But there’s no blending into Cuba. There’s no tourist who can fly under that radar of the Cuban gaze. I want to see Cuba from the Cuban perspective , but it’s impossible. I want to dive further into the complexities I see here, but I will never get too far before I am discovered and asked, “Where are ju from?”
Posted on: Mon, 15 Jul 2013 07:03:50 +0000
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