Cuba seemed to be positioned similarly as Americans have poured into the country in the last few years. As I was driven around the streets of Havana in their iconic vintage cars, we passed areas of construction. “A new hotel. It will be beautiful and facing the Malecon too,” my driver explained. The Malecon, considered the family sofa of Old Havana, is a low bearing stone wall that separates the streets from the bay. Every night that I passed by the mile long Malecon, people gathered in large numbers, enjoying a beer, the simplicity of the stars sparkling on the water and music playing in the distance. It was prime real estate for new hotels and more tourist traps, but commercialism tends to drive local traditions away. I let out a heavy sigh, grateful that I had, at least, successfully beat McDonalds to Cuba. But, once I finally return again,
I bet you like that flag, Blue-blooded lover of a guns, Oh how beautifully, it waves for you. Should I keep running this race while tied to a tree? Seeing my peers pass me up never acknowledging their head start. So focused on their privilege, I forgot whats special about me.
Well after people get over the fact that I’m hardly home (but always reppin’), they ask, as a nomad, how I will ever establish a sense of stability? After a little over a year, I’ve encountered thousands of people, many languages, various cultures and a rainbow of different outlooks on life. Travel became my addiction
“To My Future Husband, Wherever You Are, I Know Who You Are Because God has shown me who I am. You are the only one who can handle…..” [click link to continue]
“Another round?” Shamelessly, I wanted to visit with Enrique again and of course claim my 3rd glass of his velvety port. ”Guapa. You are having fun?” Call me guapa one more time, I thought mischievously. “Yes! And I’m going dancing with you tonight!” His eyes widened as he smiled. “Bryan me invita!” I explained in my broken Spanish.
Between today and my last post, it's been 3 months! I have visited Montego Bay, Jamaica… Toronto, Canada… Condado, Puerto Rico… London, UK… and La Habana Vieja, Cuba… to name a few. I have also relocated to Chicago, IL from Dallas, TX. A lot has transpired during my hiatus. And as much as I will
I remember sitting, during the last days of high school, in the senior section, with a large group of chatting girls. The only thing every senior student could think about, at that point, was the future. The imminent possibilities that laid ahead of us. The opportunities that would surely be handed to us in the coming years.
[Originally posted on February 10, 2013] Its so official. I’m old. Ancient, really. After riding the wave of 21, a firm hand began to close around me.