Myra Rademacher - May 25

The rusting metal table wobbled ever so slightly as I threw down my card pair. I looked to my left, curious to see what Stanley would do with his turn. He stared down the competition across the table, contemplating his move. He asked for a number, and anticipation was met with a satisfied, “GO FISH!”, as the move passed on to the next player.

In the shade of giant blue and white concrete canopies, protected from the mid-afternoon sun, my service group’s joyful game of “Go Fish” had a reminiscent quality about it. We were playing a favorite childhood game while waiting at an ice cream parlor for a sweet afternoon treat; the experience was the epitome of happy, early memories, and gave us a sense of relaxation I think we’d forgotten we could have a few weeks ago, when we were finishing our college finals for the year. Sitting at the Coppelia, the first ice cream parlor in Havana since the Revolution, I was reminded again of the change Cuba has incited within our group and within me.

Emotionally and mentally, I was exhausted today. Some days are just draining, and today, the sun, humid heat, and time away from home took a toll on me. It was difficult to have a positive outlook during the morning debrief and the service project at the Muraleando, and the language and cultural barriers seemed impassable as a result. By the time we made it to the Coppelia ice cream parlor, I was feeling done for the day.

However, one of the greatest qualities of Cubans is patience, and that is a trait I and the Horizons group had to quickly adopt over our three weeks here. Despite the heat, sweat, and tired looks on everyone’s face, we waited in the long, tediously slow line to engage in the famed experience of this ice cream shop. One of the most intriguing parts of the event was the inner workings of the line itself. I learned that because of the hours long waits that sometimes occur while the locals wait for cheap ice cream, individuals will hold spots in line while the rest of their families run errands or walk around town. The game of waiting in line begins with knowing three groups ahead of you, and understanding where the ultimo, or end of the line, is at. Instead of standing in one long line under the sun, Cubans split up into groups in spots of shade around the block surrounding the shop, so it can be difficult to determine where the end of the line is located.

Today was a great test of our endurance in the Cuban art of waiting. At the end of the day, the wait was worth the reward, because we were able to spend one of our last afternoons in Cuba eating ice cream and playing cards together. It’s hard to imagine that we’ll be leaving this beautiful place in a matter of days, but I know that even long after we return to the U.S., it’s the small moments like today that I will cherish the most from Cuba.

Me posing next to a friendly statue outside of the Muraleando. When the statue was built, a local woman offered her set of real teeth for the metal man. The art center happily accepted them, and now they are the only living part of this stationary dancer.

After indulging at the Coppelia, a few students chose to attend a salsa dancing class at the IFSA center. We learned the most traditional style of Cuban salsa with two professional dancers.