Yo Tambien

Just like that. With one last goodbye, I parted ways with him and that was the end of our year long relationship. I wasn't sure how I would cope without him, but in the turbidity of my emotions, I booked a flight out of the country. Anywhere, inexpensive, and leaving the next day was the only thing in my mind's itinerary. Anything was better than staying here.

Within 36 hours, I found myself on Guardalavaca Beach in Holguin, Cuba. I went to the city, went horse back riding into a cave, and did other fun activities to pass the time and enjoy the weather in mid-March in the Caribbean. It wasn't until the day I chose to climb up some boulders on the beach that I would meet someone who would truly show me what it felt like to live in the moment and enjoy happiness.

I spent the entire day swimming and snorkelling in the ocean. We practiced my Spanish, and he practiced his English. We ate mangoes with his family on the beach until the sun set. I asked what clubs or disco's they recommended in the city, and which were popular. I also asked what time the baseball game was the next day. They offered to have me stay the night and take me out to a club, and the baseball game in the afternoon, as they lived right by the stadium. I was hesitant, however I sensed a kindness in them, and agreed to go back to the city with them.

We made our bumpy hour long drive back to Cuidad de Holguin in an old truck covered in a large sheet of tarp. We stopped to have some dinner at a small local restaurant, and stopped at their home to drop off our things and get ready. First stop was Casa de la Musica. The crowd was very young, urban, and questionable, if I am being honest. I asked the bouncer if I could have a glance inside, and he opened the tall red doors just enough for me to see a few lights and a line up of people. The wet febril air saturated my entire body and I turned around and looked at my hosts, and shook my head "no." I was confident I would die of heat stroke in that place. Without missing a beat, his father smiled and said "okay, I know."

We walked for a few minutes; left turn, right turn, through the network of old cement buildings when we finally got to a faded brick red establishment on the corner of a sidewalk. The sign read "Salón Benny Moré." When they opened the doors for us, it was like an opening scene from a movie. The lights, the open roof, and people swinging each other around to Marc Anthony's "Yo Tambien." I was beside myself with emotions of confusion and comfort. I had no idea where I was, but it felt familiar.

I danced the night away. Sticking out like a sore thumb, I was the only tourist there who couldn't salsa to save her life. But I was happy. With every step, and every sway of my hips, my broken heart and exhausted soul was being refuelled with joy.

I lived with that family for 3 days; illegally as I later found out. But every day was something new. Watching the Holguin baseball team play at Estadio Calixto Garcia, watching Real Madrid vs Barcelona at Villa Islazur Mirador de Mayabe bar with his felly Cubans as he cheered on Ronaldo.

"Come! We go out." His father said to me on my last night.
"A dónde?" I asked.
"Grande fiesta en la calle" he answered back with a grin.

We met up with some friends and the next thing I knew I was eating chicken skewers in front of a massive grand stage. I watched traditional Cuban dancers and musicians performing for the sea of hundreds of people that came to observe and dance. Every part of me wished that I could do this every day back in Toronto. Nonetheless I enjoyed and submerged myself in the feeling. I prayed for a way to cope with my unhappiness, but I never thought it would come to me in a life lesson, in the form of song and dance. I have always been so consumed with rational thoughts and logical thinking that I never stopped to just shut up and dance. And never did I think in my attempt to run from something, I would run right
into a place that felt like home.

To me, there is something special in getting lost in the steps and rhythm of Latin music. Especially in an open roof third-world disco, on a hidden street corner. Now any time I need to remind myself that everything is okay, I put whatever anxieties and emotions aside, and let the music take me back to my time at Salón Benny Moré; where I learned to let the joy of dancing fill the void of my broken spirit.

No Tidal

Water is known to be the physical essence of your emotions, psyche, and can represent anything that can be up one minute, and down the next. I had the most awful dream, and I felt nothing but terror up until the point I finally awoke.

I was in Barcelona, walking along a grassy cliff. I have never been to Barcelona but this looked much like what I've seen photos of Ireland to look like. I was just walking along, with the ocean to my right. I saw some waves and thought "how beautiful, I've always wanted to surf and these look like perfect sized waves, maybe I should come back here." But as I kept walking, the waves got bigger, taller, closer; and suddenly it all came crashing down onto the hundreds of unsuspecting people who were enjoying their day off. And along came another one. Building up for what seemed like hours, but it took only seconds for this mile high structure to come crashing down, and without warning, scooping and pulling my fellow humans into the ocean, eating them alive. I ran as fast as I could, and with every few steps I would take, a tidal wave would come and pull me back even more; it's like no progress would ever be made, and I should just have given up and let the earth take me at it's will. Fortunately for me, I never die in my dreams. I somehow made it out and into a brick dwelling of some sort. I waited for the waves to be over and came out when it was safe. I don't remember the outcome of the people on the beach, but I remember walking down an alley alone feeling relieved to be alive.

I have read online that dreaming of violent crashing water can symbolize my emotional state of mind. And to dream that a wall of water is coming towards you can also mean that I am allowing my emotions to build without the proper release, and I could potentially be alienating myself and others from being in my life properly. And when reading about "waves," and it's symbolism, it reports that there is an overwhelming emotional issue that I have failed to address, and it needs to be acknowledged and dealt with. It also suggests that I have made a disastrous mistake in some decision making.

These reports are very vague and could apply to many situations, but it is somehow reassuring that I am currently dealing with some emotional battles, which are new to me, as I have been ignoring my emotions for some time, only allowing myself to feel the happy and positive ones. Being carried away in a tidal wave also suggests that you are ready to start a new life in a new place, and I have been thinking about that for some time now. I've always had a deep love for Spain. Madrid in particular; however, this year I will be visiting Barcelona, and maybe my heart and mind are asking me to consider this trip a test run for a big move. I don't feel like my soul belongs in Toronto anymore. My affinity towards Latin culture, food, music and the way I get butterflies when I walk between the maze of colonial style buildings in Spain are more than proof enough that I need in indulge myself in what I feel I have been longing for.

I just hope that switching to this mentality isn't the fatal error in decision making that my dream wave was telling me about.

The World is For Everyone

I am currently sitting in John F. Kennedy airport, waiting for my delayed flight to Rio de Janeiro.

When I am home in my native city of Toronto, I am always busy. If I am not working my high stress, fast paced job, I am tending to my sick animals, dating, or spending time with my friends and family. It is only right now in this moment I have had the time to sit down and write what has been on my mind for months.

Every opportunity to travel is an opportunity to bring out the side of me that I don't have time to be at home. It is a side of me that is relaxed and attentive.  I finally get to enjoy life, and experience all of the stimuli of the people, sounds, and food around me. It is then that I am gifted the time to know people, and who they are; what they care about, what they're afraid of. It is when I am afforded the time to eat not just for the reason of reversing my hypoglycemia, but to indulge my taste buds, and be gluttonous.

Any chance to be taken away from the beeping IV pumps, the shrill squeal of the dental drill, and my bosses 3 favourite words "can you help?" while handing me an animal and walking away without further instruction, I'll take it. 

A friend called me one night in January, randomly, and said "hey I know you like to travel, my friend just posted this flight to Rio De Janeiro, for $385 USD, so just a heads up." I booked that flight within 10 minutes of that phone call. I later found out it was an error fare, but nonetheless, I was to be going to Brazil in May. My anxiety took over, but anxiety mixed with excitement is a high that I crave regularly. I could, and have spent hours just looking for flights, trips, adventures that I plan to have throughout my life. It brings me such joy to know how big this world is, how many places I can go, the people I will meet. It's my way of day dreaming.

I always encourage people to get out there and discover the planet they live on, the humans they share nothing in common with initially. You will be astounded to find how much you can connect with these strangers across the globe. I find myself always ending a conversation with "oh, and go to Cuba, and leave the resort; go to Havana!" As random as that statement is, I wish more and more people had that mentality to just do it. 

We tend to go about life thinking that nobody cares about our lives or experiences, and I am no stranger to that. But to have people indulge and desire to know about my journey is the highest form of compliment to me. I urge you to create your own memories, adventures, fetes, accidental finding, mishaps, experiences, whatever you want to call them. The world is for everyone. Whatever happens, serendipity will always take over, as long as you do it with an open heart and mind. And until then, feel free to live vicariously through my keyboard ramblings, and enjoy what my world has given me.