I’m reminded most that I’m on an island when I’m homesick. It helps me understand why my mom left Hawaii, and it makes me wonder if half of the reason people want to leave here is for the same reason. In Oregon or New York I take comfort in knowing that I can walk, bike, or drive and be somewhere else. Here, no matter which direction I go, I will hit the ocean soon enough. I guess that’s the same with any place. Some islands are just bigger than others.
Cuba is funny because little cars sound like big cars and big cars sound like jets. If you tried to guess the size of a passing car based on sound alone you would probably almost always be wrong. This is probably due to the amount of mismatched parts working to make the cars run. I like Cuba because its surprises you like that. Nothing is ever as at seems, there are always layers and layers under what you actually perceive.
I’m not sure if I mentioned this, but I switched out of my political economics class and now am taking a Latin American thought class which I believe (believe, being the key word) is about the early philosophies that influenced various revolutions throughout Latin America. Despite a struggle with the language and ideas, I still find myself amused by the class. My professor is a grumpy man who so far has only once showed up for the Thursday class (he always comes on Tuesday). While he started out lecturing to the whole class, often looking around the room and making eye contact with each student, he now only talks to one student who sits in the corner by the window and asks a lot of questions. This makes for a bit of an awkward situation because the professor has his back to most of the class while he talks to one kid for an hour. This same kid jumps up at the end of class to light the professor’s cigarette as he walks out the door. Maybe I only find myself amused in order to fight off frustration, confusion, and disappointment, but I feel like in this case its effective. I also do a lot of my own independent research, which has helped since I understand little to nothing each class.
My Cuban film history class is quite a different story. It started two weeks ago and already I love my professor and the material. Within two classes I feel like I’ve already been exposed to so much. My professor, Alberto, is practically giddy while he teaches. Last class we watched Memories of Underdevelopment, a film I’m sure he’s seen countless times, and he still laughed at all of the jokes. It was probably the 4th or 5th time I’ve seen Memories but I understood so much more. I recognized street names and buildings, and I started to feel like I really truly understood the idea Alea (the director) was trying to convey. It made me think about the significance art can have if there’s an element of it that you’re already familiar with.
What more, what more? It’s been very stormy and a bit cold the past two weeks. A few times our electricity has gone out and we had to cancel “beach Monday” this week because it was too rainy. This has translated to a lot of movie watching, book reading, and intense cabin fever. We also have started playing a lot of cards. Perhaps I would be reminded of Oregon if I weren’t on a tropical island and speaking Spanish.
A few nights ago we went to the Cañonazo at El Morro, the oldest fort in Latin America. Our director made a few arrangements and we found ourselves being ushered down side stairs and guided through the emptied moat. We were instructed to remain silent (I got in trouble when the flash on my camera went off) until we reached another set of stairs and emerged in an outdoor corridor. We then followed the corridor to a large open space where hundreds of people were gathered. It was a pretty interesting ceremony. A blood red light was shone on mock-colonial soldiers as they marched to the cannon and then after some sort of military procedure they shot the cannon. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a cannon shot in my life and the sound is truly incredible. For some reason I wasn’t expecting it to be so loud though, and nearly jumped out of my skin. Afterwards, Aidan and I went to our favorite beer place because an hour after the cannon is shot they serve free soup.
This weekend we’re going to Trinidad and Santa Clara and I will write more after that. When I started writing this I felt awful and homesick but already I’m starting to feel better. Maybe just sharing a little piece of my life in Cuba is all it really takes.

Edit: Today in my Latin American Thought class my professor and the teacher’s pet got in an argument about Arielism and my professor spoke to the whole class. I was able to understand almost everything.