The Bri Life

For spring break this year, I decided to go to Cuba.  There had been a perfect alignment of circumstances: an operations research workshop that I just happened to get an email about, that just happened to be during our spring break, which had just been adjusted to match the university and county schools here.  I also had a Delta travel voucher that covered over 75% of the flight.  Kismet.

With less than 6 weeks between the time I booked and spring break, I didn’t have time to recruit travel accomplices.  I was nervous, but visiting Cuba had been on my bucket list since 1997 when I was in the seventh grade and I could not let this opportunity pass me by.  Several of my friends had recently traveled to the island, and all assured me that safety, particularly for women, was not an issue at all.  One of the benefits of the militaristic, socialist state: not a lot of crime going on.  Anyhoo, sufficiently convinced that Cuba would be a safe place to get my solo chops, I boldly went, armed with all the knowledge and wisdom of dozens of travel blogs, hours of conversation with friends, and the Lonely Planet tourist guide. 

And it was amazing.

Well, La Habana was spectacular: a city so enchanting, so enthralling that 4 days of wandering didn’t even begin to scratch the surface.  But also, being by myself meant experiencing Cuba in a raw, unencumbered kind of way that only added, I think, to the experience. I am an extrovert, which means I am energized and invigorated by conversations and interactions with other people.  (This is also why I have more stories than pictures from my travels!)  Since I was alone, I *had* to talk to the people around me, striking up conversations with musicians, street cleaners, museum directors, taxi drivers, and expats from around the world.  I was invited as a guest of the band to la Zorra y el Cuervo, a famous jazz spot in Vedado.  I heard the epic history of Antonio Maceo, first black lieutenant general in the Cuban war for independence from a former Olympic boxer over mojitos.  I talked education with woman who was an anesthesiologist by training and a housekeeper by profession.  I danced with a Swiss architect, who was looking for woman he’d once met a year ago in a Cuban night club.  Because very few Cubans speak English, most of these conversations were a congenial comedy of errors, a teaching and bonding experience for all involved.  Throughout my week, I noticed other groups of tourists, comfortably conversing amongst themselves in their respective languages. And I realized how that created an isolation from those around them - they only engaged with Cubans for assistance, service. I’d like to think I had a more immersive experience, socializing and interacting with locals authentically. I was actually mistaken for Cuban more than once, which tickled me to no end. I am also a curious mix of Types A and B: I love making lists but I rarely follow through with them. I spend hours poring over maps and guidebooks and then leave them all at home. As a travel companion, this can be a point of contention. :D Being in Cuba alone meant I didn’t have to negotiate my plans for the day or apologize when my plans ended up being “loaf around Vedado without purpose.” I could speed through the war museum without guilt to get to the cigar house across the street. I could stop for breakfast and second breakfast, to make sure I was getting as much local flavor as possible. And I could stop at Every. Single. Roadside stand and bookstore no matter how obvious it was that the merchandise was identical to the last one. I meandered with purpose. I lolled with motive. Since I was not with a group, I could toss an itinerary out as the mood struck me; and I could frantically scrounge for one as needed.

Solo travel in a foreign country gave me an incredible freedom I’d never felt back home. Of course, I was a moderately experienced international traveler before endeavoring to go it alone, with previous trips to urban and rural Kenya, and South Africa with 30 students. Solo travel is definitely not for the culturally unadventurous, or the inflexible and the timid. BUT, the rewards are immense, and well, rewarding.

#RIPZAE We mustRemember that tomorrow comes after the dark So you will always be in my heartwith unconditional love pic.twitter.com/ssUsRA7lze

— RIPZAE2️⃣4️⃣ (@CMOBB6)

December 18, 2015

thebrilife:

• take a shower.  use your special body scrub with honey and almond oil.  rub down with shea butter when you get out.
• rearrange your closets and drawers.
• go to the gym.  go climbing.  run 3 miles.  sit in the sauna.  gab with the other gym rats.
• go shopping at Earth Fare and Trader Joe’s and get inspired to make something impressive.
• make a list of novels and books of poetry you’ve been meaning to read.  go to the library and check all of them out.
• call your best friend and talk about nothing (or don’t talk at all) for hours.
• critically analyze popular television shows from the 80’s while reminiscing on your childhood.
• write a poem.
• don’t look at your phone.
• don’t look at your phone.
• don’t look at your phone.

#still waiting

warsanshire:

I was almost rabid

for love.

Would’ve lunged at any thing

thrown my way

carcass, shadow, memory, promise

shell of a man.

I thought it was better

to be loved by a dead thing

than to be left alone.

Then I loved a dead thing 

and was completely alone.

(via superqueerwonder-blog)