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HAVANA AND MY PEOPLE

I dreamd in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of the earth;

I dreamd that was the new City of Friends;Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust loveit led the rest;

It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city,

And in all their looks and words.

Walt Whitman. Leaves of Grass (1900). I Dreamd in a Dream

Today is a good day to start writing. I just turned 52 and it has been three months since I returned from

Cuba. I want to dedicate this first entry to my friends that live there; to those I saw only 2 days after the

end of the Mayan calendar, signaling the anticipated end of the world, and 12 years after a heartbreakingdeparture.

The concerns and anxiety that once plagued the idea of returning home vanished as soon as my feet

touched the streets of Havana. Boyeros Ave., which looked so much narrower to the many who returned

before me; to me, looked exactly as I had left it. The heat of December shocked me and the new timers on

the traffic lights that didnt exist in 2001 when I left Cuba, amazed me.

The streets of Havana, basking in the shade of centuries old trees, were made for wandering; and strolling

down these streets invariably leads you to the sea. It is the same sea that I remember from my childhood,

with the same smell, the same defiance, threatening the seawall or Malecn along Cubas shore. And if

this Malecn could talk, it would not have enough time, that time measured by the sum of the lives of al l

of us who have sat on it, to tell all the stories it has witnessed. It was there, in Havana, in the middle of the

city that so bedazzled me, surrounded by new localisms and expressions, that I understood that you never

really leave the place where you were born. When you are born on an island like Cuba, it forever lives

within you.

To see my parents once more, to see my brother again who was celebrating his 50thbirthday, and to see

my lifelong friends was an unforgettable celebration. My good friends, beautiful inside and out,

competitive in their professions and in the art of living in Cuba, were the same larger-than-life human

beings with whom I shared the 40 years I spent there. To each one I was silently thankful for never

revoking the right of allowing me to be their friend. From each one I brought back a smell, a word, anexpression, a story; all gifts that allow me, even in the biggest of hurries, to keep them near and dear.

LA HABANA Y MI GENTE

He soado en un sueo y vea una ciudad invencible bajo

los ataques de todo el resto de la tierra,

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He soado que sta era la nueva ciudad de los amigos,

Nada era all tan grande como la virtud del slido amor,

que primaba sobre el resto,

Esto se comprobaba a cada hora en los actos de los hombres

de aquella ciudad,

Y en todas sus miradas y palabras.

Walt Whitman. Briznas de hierba (1900). He soado en un sueo.

Hoy es un buen da para empezar a escribir. Acabo de cumplir 52 aos y hace 3 meses que

volv de Cuba. Y quiero dedicar esta primera entrada a mis amigos que viven all; a aquellosque volv a ver ahora, 2 das despus del fin del ciclo de vida de los mayas y del consabido

rumor del fin del mundo, 13 aos despus de habernos despedido el da de mi partida.

La incertidumbre y la ansiedad que en un principio me provoc la idea de volver a casa

desaparecieron en cuanto puse los pies en La Habana. La avenida Boyeros, que a muchos de

los que han hecho este mismo viaje antes se les antoj ms estrecha, a m me pareca la

misma que yo haba dejado. Me choc el calor en diciembre y me hizo mucha gracia el

contador para la luz verde de los semforos, que no exista en el 2001 cuando me fui de

Cuba.

Las calles de La Habana, con la sombra de sus rboles milenarios, han sido creadas para

andar. Y caminando, se llega al mar desde cualquier punto; a un mar con el mismo olor que

recuerdo de mi niez, desafiando el muralln de un malecn que, si pudiera hablar, no

alcanzara el tiempo medido por la suma de las vidas de todos los que nos hemos sentado en

l, para contar tanta historia de la que ha sido testigo. En La Habana, en medio del

deslumbramiento que me produce esta ciudad y de las, para m nuevas, expresiones

lingsticas locales, comprob que uno no se va del todo cuando deja la ciudad que lo vio

nacer. Y cuando se nace en una isla, como Cuba, se le lleva dentro para siempre.

Volver a ver a mis padres, a mi nico hermano que en esos das cumpla 50 aos y a mis

amigos de siempre fue una celebracin inolvidable. Mis buenos amigos, esos seres tan

lindos por dentro y por fuera; competitivos en sus profesiones y en el arte de vivir en Cuba

eran los mismos grandes seres humanos con los que compart los 40 aos que viv all. A

cada uno le agradec en silencio el derecho de seguir siendo su amiga y de cada uno traje, de

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nuevo, su olor, una palabra, una expresin, una ancdota; referencias que me permiten, an

en las prisas, tenerlos cerca.