I’m still sitting at the gate for the eleventieth delay, doing some people watching. In a family text my brother recalled the first flights that were allowed to Cuba in the 80s for humanitarian or medical reasons. It was madness then. A sadness hung in the air in those days — bittersweet and sometimes tragic when stories would surface about traveling to see parents or children that had not had contact in decades.
Today, the ambiance is so different. There’s stress in the air, to be sure, but here’s so much joy. So. Much. Joy! The Pope is going to Cuba!
Anticipation. Excitement.
I know! I’m one of them.
I remember taking my dad’s sister, Tia Maruchi, to the Miami Airport in the 70s. The poor little thing was terrified but she would wade thru shark infested waters to get to her daughter in Cienfuegos. Cubans were managing these flights and treated these frightened travelers terribly. I just couldn’t understand it and gave more than one a lesson in courtesy and human decency. All Tia wanted was to put her arms around her Yolanda. Those were the days when each passenger wore SEVERAL outfits so that they could leave them there. Alverez Geddes had a funny bit on this practice. Praying for a wonderful journey for you and your family. Besitos.
This is will be the most amazing, inspirational trip! Can’t wait to read your account of it when you return. Hope to see more pictures. (Oh the music, the food!)
Thrilled for you that you get to make this trip. May you have a safe, delightful journey that nurtures your soul.