I wrote this letter to famiy and friends three years ago when I studied in Havana. Sometimes I re-read my letters out loud and watch photo slideshows. Sometimes I perform them. Sometimes I post ‘em. Like now.

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Subject: i can’t pretend i don’t need you to be friends

el 25 de septiembre de 2007

It’s crazy raining all the time here now. We’ve all had cabin fever since Friday. But let’s talk about more interesting things, shall we? Saturday we left for Las Terrazas (a side project of the 60s created to promote reforestation turned artist commune) in Pinar del Río. It’s super beautiful and green everywhere. Chickens and turkeys run wild and there was even a family of monkeys on a makeshift island in the middle of a manmade lake. The houses were built to reflect the landscape; one side is on stilts in the valley and the other is at the top of a hill. They’re in Knicks colors and though I don’t like basketball they made me miss home a little bit more.

After the tour, we went to a vegetarian restaurant, and Holy Jesus, it was honestly the best meal we’ve had so far in Cuba! I swear I’ve never had anything that amazing and probably won’t until I come home. After that, we swam in a freezing cold, rocky river. It was definitely a new experience and I probably would do it again if it wasn’t so cold. After that we visited a coffee plantation, saw slave barracks, and drank coffee in the plantation owner’s house. That was a strange experience and the morale of the group was pretty heavy, especially since it was raining. Race is an awkward subject*   in Cuba and maybe I’ll try to explain it in a different letter. Our tour guide Jesús is amazing and so knowledgeable about Cuban history. He apparently studied in the UK, visited Italy, France, and lived in Australia for a time. Not to mention he’s super attractive and an all around nice guy. He’s like the nice frat boy (not the creepy, date-rape type) who grew up.

I don’t know if I told you that I have dark hair again. It was just too much trouble to try to redo my roots here, so I am back to black (AC/DC not Amy Winehouse). Also, my new favorite pastime is drinking my height in beer. There is a brewery in Habana Vieja and they sell beer in cylindrical taps with an ice core that stores a meter of beer. Between me and three friends, we usually go through about two meters (over all of our heights) and two trays of little salty olives. I’ve never had an appreciation for beer until I turned 21, and the beer in Cuba is crap, but the beer at this place is amazing! I’m totally looking to invest in one when I get home.

Sunday was probably the greatest day of my week because (a) I got to talk to my parents and Chew, and (2) because there was a street fair! This thing was insane! People were selling birds (230MN) and hamsters, and there were all sorts of happy food stalls with friend rice and pork, sandwiches with lechon and ham, shredded pork, maybe some chicken but I’m pretty sure that it was pork. And the sweets were so pretty. Cuban cakes come in all different sizes with buttercreams in blues, greens, pinks, and yellows, and people cart them around on scrap pieces of cardboard. There were also stalls with garlic, avocados, all sorts of root vegetables, and vinegar and guava paste.

Walking through the massive crowd, I felt the safest I’ve felt here in a long time. Not that Habana is a dangerous place, on the contrary, it’s probably the safest city I’ve ever visited or lived in. There are police on every corner and the crime rate is at an all time low with petty larceny as the main crime. No this was a different kind of safe; the kind that comes from innately comfortable situations. It reminded me so much of street fairs in New York summer that I just became so happy and warm all over. A (a friend from SLC) and I walked the entire length of the fair, from Paseo to L, stopping every so often. The whole thing was such an experience, smelling the food and the freshly ground spices for sale, seeing all the happy people, the sound of live reggaeton musicians holding a concert, feeling the heat of the sun and the sweat running down our backs, and tasting freshly made, crumbly butter cookies. 

But now it’s Tuesday. I spent all day Monday in bed and trying to mop up the water coming in through my window. I was supposed to go to a Santería party last night, but my ride never showed up, so I watched a Maggie Gyllenhaal film instead. Class let out early today because it was too dark (there are no lights in the room, just a window). Tomorrow night is a full moon and I fully intend to have a séance.  I’m pretty sure that there is a ghost in our bathroom, because we don’t have hot water and neither me or T attempt to use it, but somehow the hot tap is always turned on. We need some ghostbusters up in this piece.

xo,

krystle

*   for example, we received our carnes (temporary residence cards) and T (who’s Korean) and R (who is half Japanese) both have cards that say they’re white. Our friend from Havard, M (who’s black) also has one that says blanca, but she said it was a mistake.

You remind me to be careful

Everyday we speak, even for just a few moments

3,000 miles and 3hrs apart

we plead and bitch and carry on, tsismis,

laugh and practice the poetry and prose of our banal but meaningful lives

routine lives day in and day out at a commuter’s pace transferring from bus to train

to bus to train back and forth moving miles closer

so we can laugh together again

“Anak, be careful. I love you”

you remind me that I am a stronger person than I remember

we have only just met and you have listened to my story

me agonizing every single little detail

remembering and re/member/ing

I sob so effortlessly through a veil of cellular lines

and you say you cannot imagine what I look like when I cry

that I don’t look like the crying type

we talk of spleens and livers, pulses and needles and checking off to-do lists

and we laugh full belly laughs

“Don’t forget to breathe. It will work out”

you remind me that we are so young

shouting at one another & moving quickly through time

we were both living in a fantasy of what we wanted to be

playing ourselves on a stage for just us two

when the curtains close we walk away for what feels like a millennia

& when they open again, only one of us is still in character

“Hey sis, it’s good to see you. How you been?”

you remind me of home

I cook and think of you, small and walking slower these days

Due to weight gain from eating durian and a cold winter

It is you who knows best how my tongue refuses to wrap around ampalaya or cilantro

Small victories occur in our daily lives and great ones do too

Small pleasures carry us through these trying times

Reflections of loving couples flash in a din from the television

Koreans carrying on in their stiff, formal affectionate way

 “You know love, there’s always a good lesson there”

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i.

a night breeze washes over our small, fragile bodies

we shine like sapphires in the darkness

no one is here but us

we are alone

we are lonely

& soon we will no longer be here

ii.

these fleshy, fragrant sacks we own

animals, these days have more virtue that we do

yet it is us who claim power

what we have called civilization has made us fat off the backs of the powerless

and they are our property

we collect more and more like marbles in a cloth sack

take one out and feel how round and smooth it is in your palm

rolling it between the groove of your life line

iii.

in the life-after-life-after-death a conversation was had between god and a dinosaur:

“before they had shoes, we roamed the earth. Did we not love you enough and that’s why you sent us away?” the dinosaur asked.

and god sighed before she said “your love was greater than theirs, but they paid me more so their impact was greater. You understand how business works, right?”

slow sips of cool liquid hints of chocolate and caramel on my tongue

sweatbeads form on my cup drip-drop down my dress like rain drizzles on my breasts the twins, too, are thirsty

babies laugh, squeal, shot across the street and cars drive by

i smell the rain but it’s false (like everything in la); you’ve just watered your industrial-meets-nature garden 

i slouch to sun my legs in my mexican party dress, listen to banal conversations, exchange quick smiles and giggles with my sister and am tickled by the slight breeze

my feet are burning.

it is only thursday.

a.

i lost you before i knew you existed
-rrhea is greek for flow and flow you did rushing like niagra into a sea of rubies ruby… tried to stop you up like a leaky hole, tie you down and bring cotton to your mouth

b.

note to self: no it’s not important and you shouldn’t have called-your nonsense is not appreciated

c.

and we go on about our days as if nothing has changed let’s force ourselves until we fit into the smallest of spaces until we can no longer breathe as individuals even though i had already been breathing for you and you alone

d.

i am learning to breathe again again i am learning to breathe again i am learning