I think it was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, she said, just loud enough to be heard over the music while the three of us held hands in the corner of the party. We didn’t stand side by side, but in an unbroken circle. So that probably looked weird, but I wouldn’t register that until later. In that moment, all I could think about was whether or not I agreed with her.

We got home from Cuba about two weeks ago, two professors and the six students who ended up attending the trip. And, although we had been in the same class all semester, to learn about Cuba, none of us had spoken to each other. So when our professor asked what we wanted to get out of the trip I was intrigued to here everyones answer, even mine. A few mentioned practicing some Spanish, others wanted to get to know the locals, most talked about absorbing the culture. I think I said something about how I wanted to see the art in Cuba, and that’s not untrue. I love art and I was excited to see what Cuba had to offer in that regard. Was it the main reason I signed up? Probably not.

If I’m honest, I wanted to go to Cuba mainly as a distraction from my life. I’ll leave my circumstances at that point up to your imagination, but just remember that the short and cold days of Maine winter was already the backdrop. Which isn’t to say I wasn’t curious to learn about Cuba. I truly wanted first-hand experiences of the country I had learned so much about over the semester. In fact, I knew that the learning and the newness is what would distract me. But yes, distraction is what I wanted above anything else.

So what type of distracting things did I learn about Cuba that I couldn’t get from the textbooks? It’s hard to form any sort of conclusions. It’s hard because we were just tourists in their world. Spoiled Americans who had experiences like riding horses to waterfalls and snorkeling on the beach. They were amazing, but that’s not anyones real life. If I were to tell you what Cuba really is, or what Cuba is really about I would feel like a man trying to teach a women’s studies class, and no one wants that. So, I just want to tell you a few things that happened, and let you decide what you think they mean, and maybe tell me cause I’m still unsure.

1. No matter where I was in Havana or Trinidad, if I looked around the street, up in a balcony, or through the slits of a window, there was always someone watching me. Which sounds eerie, but the stares didn’t feel at all hostile and I somehow don’t have that sense that people often talk about, where they can feel someone watching them. So I only noticed when I looked for them. It was often an old lady, sometimes children or a middle aged man. It felt like they were all waiting for something. When I see people in the streets of cities in the United States, everyone always has a place to be. In Cuba there are more people who are just there, doing nothing in particular but indulging their curiosity on whoever walks by.

2. We stayed in local families homes, and they treated us like family. Talking to our host, Carmen, you’d think we were her nieces. They didn’t feel any of the awkward social barriers that we do in the United States. They gave us advice, constant physical reassurance through a hand on the shoulder or hugs, and the home felt like a home.

3. We were able to befriend the kids who played on the street our house was on. There was two girls and maybe five boys, all between the ages of seven and twelve. They mainly raced each other down the small, cobble-stone street, so we did the count downs. Soon we were racing along side them. Later we would participate in a soccer game, boys verses girls, where a certain point at each end of the road meant one team or the other scored a goal. I’d rip my sandal open making a goal (totally worth it). One night they invited us to one of the boys birthday parties. Come back at midnight, they said, and we’ll sing him happy birthday. During the party we went with the kids to get pizza, right down the street. They vehemently insisted that we eat our pizza first, and that we also have some of their pizza. There were no parents around to prompt them to do this, they just did. Soon we were back on our street where we sang happy birthday in both English and Spanish while the oldest girl secretly tore up paper for confetti. During the closing note of our third rendition she threw it in the air. We all laughed together.

5. The cities are beautiful, but dilapidated. Before I actually saw them in person, and I had just seen photos, I would have described the cities as “forgotten during a ten year apocalypse, and only recently rediscovered”. Now that I’ve seen the cities in person, I’m not sure if that description fits. It doesn’t fit because in the pictures I saw there was no movement, no sound, no sense of smell, so I couldn’t feel how much the cities are teaming with life. There’s music coming from every other house, at any hour of the day. Many houses and buildings have been turned into restaurants and you can smell the food and hear the sound of conversations coming from the tables seated outside. This is definitely romanticizing it all, but to me it felt like everyone was so busy living that they just forgot to fix up the buildings for generations. In a few days I completely grew accustomed to the sidewalk holes, the balls of telephone wires atop each telephone pole, and the buildings with their chipped paint. It just felt like life’s backdrop, how it had always been and how it will always be. Though, again, I don’t have to live there all the time. We were told that often a building will simply collapse. One such incident killed four studying teenagers. So I’m sure the honeymoon period fades fast when you live their long-term. 4. It was probably one of the happiest times of my life (to shamelessly segue back to my original question).

I’m not sure what that says about me. Except, apparently I have the type of life you need a vacation from. And if that was the Happiest time I can remember, I’ve always had that type of life. Or maybe it was just the feeling of escaping winter for the sun. Who knows. I’ll work on it.