Landing in Havana

Before I boarded the plane to Havana at Santo Domingo Airport, I had withdrawn all the cash from my checking and savings accounts at a Banco Popular ATM in the first floor of the airport, and had converted all of it into Euros to have a better exchange rate for Cuban pesos. 

I think my anxiety kicked in when I saw that I had a lot less bills in Euros than I did in Dominican Pesos. Back home, I usually never stress off of money. When I rented my room out in Marina, it was easy for me to set aside my rent and utilities and not worry about food and fun with my awesome roommate situation. I think the fact that I came to Cuba all alone really made it all the more scary for me.

With this being said, when I stepped off the plane in Cuba, I instantly began looking for anyone who looked like a broke traveler to split the cost of a taxi colectivo to Cerro in La Havana. A gentleman who gave me half of a sandwich on the plane ride told me that he couldn't split a cab because he was meeting up with people and getting picked up. Discouraged, I proceeded to customs and immigration while keeping my eye out for other lonely travelers. 

While in line, I struck up conversation with a Cuban professor named Martha, who was coming back home from a teaching conference. I told her a bit of my background and she told me a bit of hers. I must have pelted her with a billion questions, asking things about hitchhiking and low cost meals in Havana. She could tell that I was stressing, and agreed to let me rock with her back into Havana. Her two sons greeted us at the doors to the airport, and they arranged for a taxi colectivo to drop me off near Cerro, the neighborhood where my hostel was, and waited for me to convert my Euros into CUC. To my surprise, I got quite a bit more cash in the exchange than I originally thought. I paid the taxi colectivo $10 for taking me as close as they could to my hostel, and walked with my small luggage about a kilometer or so before arriving to my destination. 

I felt compelled to write about Martha, as I don't know what I would have done if we hadn't struck up conversation at the airport. She gave me contact information for herself and her ex husband and father of her children, Armeno, (who worked in an office nearby my hostel) before we parted ways and her sons told me to call them so that we could hang out. I was so grateful for this, and this gigantic act of kindness really grounded me and set me off on my journey on the right foot. 

I brought the postcards from my trip to New Zealand to leave with people throughout my stay in Cuba, and knew I had to leave one for Martha in Havana before I left.  I wrote an intimate thank you note on the back and called her ex husband, Armeno on his house number (I couldn't call Martha's cell because I was on a land line) to let him know that I wanted to give him something for her. He was more than happy to pass it along, but wasn't wasn't coming into work until Friday. He told me to go to his work and find Felix, his coworker, and give him the card so that it could reach him. Me and a fellow Californian named Jon (a dope ass individual from Monterey) rocked over there together. I found Felix, who was more than happy to pass the card along. I'm glad, because as I mentioned before, Martha helped me start this journey off on the right foot and eased my nerves. Angels definitely come in all shapes and sizes, and I hope to hang out with Martha and her kids next time I'm in Cuba when I have more time.