Sixth Day pt1 - The Cuba Diary

Day Six: The morning experience

The previous day I had promised a family I'd go through my clothes to see if I had anything I could give them. I had also visited the house of where the family lived (in the picture above). The house was small. Two children, one teenager and the parents shared one room as the mother's ill mother was laying on her deathbed in the room next to them. In addition to these two rooms there was the kitchen that can also be seen in the photo above. I was invited to greet the ill grandmother of the house. My body didn't want to meet her but the inner me said I should.

I entered the room. Never had I experienced anything so strongly via my nose. The smell. The smell - I still feel weak by just thinking about it. It was the smell of death. The death of a dying old lady with only skin and bones left, and hardly even that.

I was asked to greet the grandmother, by a kiss on the cheek of course. Politely I performed what I felt was my duty. 75% of my body was telling me to leave, that the experience had been enough. The house would have probably had a room or two more, I don't know, but I said we should go back to the others who were taking pictures outside. It wasn't only the old lady but the whole house. The smell. Felt like the whole house was dying. And by also the looks of it, it was.

As we were walking out of the house the lady heard sounds from my pockets and I was asked if I had a bit of money to spare. I gave the lady my coins, those three CUCs didn't mean anything to me. They meant a weeks food for her.

Sanni and I had taken a bag of small soaps, toothpastes and pens with us from Finland to give to children as they really appreciate these small goods. Plus soaps and stuff are expensive for locals to buy so they are warmly welcomed. Looking clean is very important for Cubans.

Back to the story - clothes for the family. Unfortunately we were traveling with just backpacks and had left most of our clothes back at the hotel in Havana. Therefore I didn't have that much to choose from. I decided to give the family clothes from an outfit I had been wearing a few days back (in this post): shorts and a t-shirt (with more soap and toothpaste as extra).

On our last morning of our Santiago day we went to the family's house after breakfast. I had warned Sanni about the smell and what kind of environment we were entering. I couldn't help but to smile and forget all the nastiness around me when little Mercedes ran and jumped into my lap like I were her big sister coming home after being away for a year. At least I felt like the feeling could be comparable. Maybe?

I gave away my clothes thinking oh how I wish I would have taken more. In Havana I had so many shoes that were waiting to be thrown away. This family would have cherished them like Europeans would Gucci or Prada.

Of course the family wanted to get pictures taken of themselves, again. Cubans love to be photographed.

We made the stay short. The mother of the house started to get greedy. Getting money and all the goods wasn't enough anymore. She wanted more and more and more. Not only here and now but to be sent, too. I decided it was enough, enough with all the begging. 'I might have more than you but I ain't no millionaire', I thought to myself.

As we walked away from the house I noticed dried blood spots on my arms.

I felt bad but relieved to think 'thankfully I had no wounds'...

Overall I was left with a feeling of happiness, feeling that maybe I helped someone. I didn't mean to be rude by thinking with words like 'smell' and 'relief of no wounds'.

Anyhow there's always the feeling when you wish you could help more than you can.

And the feeling when you also know that... you could have simply just helped more instead of wishing to doing it.

xo

Linda

ps. please share your thoughts. any. any that arise. thanks!