“ Senores pasejeros en veinte menudos llegaremos a l’aereopuerto de l’habana!” screamed a member of the cabin crew, standing at the other side of the plane.
Still half asleep, I packed my stuff away and put on my jumper. I was ready to get off the plane.
As soon as I stepped out the aircraft, I recognised the smell of palms and coconuts, mixed with the aroma of Mediterranean pines, which reminded me of the holidays spent in Sardegna when I was little. A strange sense of comfort and peace suddenly invaded my whole body. Finally I was there, in the place defined by many as the land of miracles, the place where anything is possible: Cuba.
Surprisingly enough, a car was waiting for us immediately outside the terminal building: it was one of those old cars, that were popular during the pre-revolution period. It was light blue and you could clearly see that the paint was worn out.
The air condition plus the smell of the “cohiba” cigars, that there was in that car made me dizzy.
The driver claimed to be a friend of René Valdés, my dad’s friend.
As soon as my mom realised what was going on, a “ 32 teeth” smile appeared on her face, probably the first one since we left our house in Italy.
“ So you did organise the journey, ah…”, she said referring to my dad
“ Yes, obviously! Did you really think I would have took you here, without a place to stay? I wanted to make you a surprise!”
“ Oh, I knew you would have thought of everything…”
“ Then why did you say…”
Their conversation was interrupted by the voice of the driver: “ Somos llegados, puedo ayudarve con las maletas?”
“ No, no hay problema!” answered my dad, who’s spanish was still fluent after so many years.
My mom noticed as well, which made my dad feel proud of his language ability.
The car parked in front of a 16 floor old creepy building, typical of the pre-revolution period, when the Americans still had the power over Cuba. Although the bad condition it was very fascinating.
“Dad, now I understand why the driver offered to help us with the luggage… THE APARTMENT IS AT THE LAST FLOOR!”, I shouted to him from the other side of the street.
The building smelled dry and dusty like an old museum. The heat made the carrying of the bags even harder, but eventually we all made it to the last floor.
A lady opened the door of the house, she smiled and invited us in. She was the cleaner. She told us to have look around the house and that René would have arrived within minutes. She didn’t even finish the phrase, that I already started my tour.
The apartment was nice, the walls were all painted in white, a very bright white, nearly blinding.
It had a big living room which was not much occupied, apart from a table a vinyl disc player and a t.v, it had a kitchen, four bedrooms of a reasonable size and also a small outside swimming pool on the roof, from which you could see a large part of the city.
I was coming back from my inspection, when from a corner, a small figure appeared: It was a girl.
She had black straight hair, light brown skin, a very intense smile and her eyes shined like diamonds in the sun.
“ Hi, my name is Aylin!” she said in spanish.
“You must be Giovanni, the new guest”
“Yes”, I mumbled.
I was still staring at that girl who somehow caught my attention so much, when from an other room someone called her.
“ See you later” she said living the room.
She must have had about my age, or near it anyway…
My mom’s voice recalled my mind back to earth. She wanted me to meet René.
He had dark brown hair and brown eyes:. He was a nice person, around his middle twenties, I suppose.
He and his family that evening invited us for a quick visit of the city, on their brand new car, to give us an impression of what the atmosphere was like.
René explained to us, that it was very rare that a family had their own car, and that he managed to afford one because of his job promotion. His eyes were shining with proudness when he when he was saying that, almost like a kid after his first date with a girl.
The building in which our apartment was, gave on the “malècon”: the street right next to the sea.
You could see some kids playing football on the pavement, and their mom sitting on the bench in front of them. She was telling them off for nearly kicking the ball into the sea.
They were smiling, they had a smile which I never had seen before, an intense smile which seemed to sprigionate sunshine, glowing in the dark.
With the car we went through the main streets, there were people dancing in the middle of the road and live bands playing music, there were kids singing to collect money, as well.
The light that came from the cafés made a big contrast with the old buildings in the surroundings.
It bounced from a building to another like fireballs.
In the middle of “ Plaza de Las Armas” there was a dance show, women dressed with tights, coloured tops and tropical birds plumes in their hair were dancing and spinning around, led by the rhythm of salsa music: the way they moved their bodies , made them shine of their own light, like stars. The colours of their tops: orange, red and yellow, mixed together, in the dance, to create one only colour, making the show really magic.
By the time the show finished it was 10 p.m. and we were really tired, partly because of the journey partly because of the jet-leg.
On the way home Aylin talked to me: she asked me if enjoyed the show, and also told me how she would love to come to England, to learn the language and to know more about it’s culture.
When we got home she showed me a book, very old and dusty with a picture of a man playing cricket, on the front cover, with a white suit and cap on. She asked me if all english people looked like this, and I laughed telling her they dressed like that only during cricket games.
I also promised to teach her the language a bit.
She said she would have brought me to the discovery of Habana, to exchange the favour.
I spent the next two weeks, “ From dusk ‘till dawn”, going around the city with her.
She took me to see all the markets: they were always full of people bargaining on prices, of people exchanging products for other products, little thieves stealing from the stands: just like in a tale from a children’s book.
We had long walks on the malècon, we’ve been dancing in cafés at night, playing “ Hide and seek” in the main squares and having long swims in the swimming pool on top of the roof of the building.
Time had been flying and me and my parents had only three days left, to stay, in Cuba.
On the last evening I was standing next to the swimming pool, looking at the city from the top of the building. I was waiting for the sunset to come, which had been said to be beautiful, seen from there.
Meanwhile the sun was going away, slowly the city was acquiring life: you could see the first lights of the main cafés and clubs opening, you could hear the first notes, from the bands, been played and the first groups of kids crowding in the streets: the night was beginning. The way all of this was happening was magic, this city seemed to be part of a parallel world from ours, one of those worlds that are only found in stories.
I was so assorted in my thoughts that I didn’t hear Aylin calling me.
“ Hi Giovanni, I have a surprise for you…” , Her hair was moved by the wind, she looked really nice that night: her eyes were more intense than usual and her smile was particularly capturing, she looked almost like a fairy.
“ So, what is this surprise you’re talking about?”
“ I got two tickets for the TEODORO REYES concert, tonight”
I immediately jumped up and hugged her, I could sense her hands around my waist, I felt a warm sensation, almost as the wind had stop blowing for a second.
In fifteen minutes I was ready to go. I told my parents and they agreed.
“ Plaza de la revolutiòn” was overcrowded, everyone was shouting and cheering for the singer.
After a few minutes he came out from backstage. The night was packed with dances, people from all over Cuba had came to assist at the concert of the most famous “ Bachatero” in Latin America.
The dances were accompanied by the rhythmic, but melodic sounds of bachata: a music born in the Dominican Republic.
The concert went on ‘till late and we came home at about 3 a.m. I had to go to bed straight away, because I had to catch the plane early the next morning, but Aylin told me to come, just for one second, on the roof, near the swimming pool because she had to talk to me.
“ I got a present for you…”
“ Thanks, what is it?”
“ I bought it so you could always remember me, and the fun we had together…”
I opened it: it was a small necklace, with the miniature of the island of Cuba, attached to it.
“ I promise I’ll come and visit you in England…”, she said “… Before you’ll forget me”, these words came out suffocated from her mouth.
“ I won’t, I promise you” , I answered
She smiled at me one more time, with that same captivating smile, nearly magic, that caught my attention the first time I saw her and hugged me one last time: I felt the same sensation as when I hugged her before the concert, I could see the whole city shining right behind her, that was the last time I would saw it, for some time.
She picked up her bag from the floor and walked away, she turned around and looked at me, saying something, but I couldn’t see her face because her hair, moved from a gust of wind, covered it.
The next morning I had to get up very early, but I could take one last look at the place I spent the most time at, with Aylin: The top of the roof near the swimming pool. I could only spend a few seconds there because the driver was waiting at the bottom of the building, and it took a fairly long time to et down.
The driver’s car still had that same smell of cigars, as it had the first time I stepped in it.
I could see for one last time the building, the malècon and the waves crashing onto the seashore , before the driver took that turn and all those things disappeared, leaving only the view of the road and of the airport that you could see in the distance.
