Cuba, bella y triste

I'm back from Cuba, and it was an incredible experience. At one point, I suffered from culture shock, and began to panic. I told my friend, "What if the room is tapped?" I didn't write in my journal until I got to Mexico. Then, a few things emerged...amongst many cluttered thoughts:

Cuba is beautiful. The people are wonderful. I became nostalgic as I left the family that treated me like I was family, that provided all they could, despite difficulties, so we could be comfortable during our stay. Los Cubanos son un encanto.

But there were also many confusing moments. I felt like I was being watched. I told people I was Mexicana, instead of American. I felt I had to be careful what I did and said. I couldn't talk about "El Senhor," nobody really did. Someone disappeared while we were there. Life in Cuba is difficult for most people, I think. Everyday things can be difficult.

I loved seeing racial integration, something we don't have in the U.S. or even in Latin America: mulatos y triguenhos y negros y blancos, everyone interacting without prejudices (as far as I could see).

I need to go back to Cuba. Es raro, but once you are there you feel like you have to return... like you left something behind.