“Mi vida! Mi amor!” We landed in Havana.
With our heads outside the taxi windows, we were dazzled by the ride. The hostel that hosted us was colorful and airy, but it was the piña coladas and the mojitos at 2.5 CUC ($1.50) that truly captivated us. We drank four. 
We made our way to the center of town, as if we were part of a painting stopped in time. We bargained a trip with the typical Cuban taxi and although we were fascinated by the electric blue car, it was the vintage rose who accepted our deal.
We introduced ourselves to Havana. We located the embassies, the Malecón, the fortress and the obligatory touristic scenic stops. Listened to music, compliments and barking. There are dozens of happy dogs on the streets, waiting to play and for belly rubs. In return they offered love and friendly licks.
We dined, stared at the fried banana (that occupied half the plate) and went on the search for the hidden treasure: the Wi-Fi. When we saw a bunch of faces illuminated by small screens, we knew we were in the right place. The crowd slowed the service speed, however it was enough to show the world that we were alright.
Van and I radiated happiness, we embraced each other spontaneously, as if we didn’t believe we were there together. 
The following mornings, we got on the bus that took us to the beaches of Havana, 40 min away. We found the cheapest rum and Cuban cigars, and we party alone or with the new vacations friends. One of those days we met Migdaliz, or Alice’s friend, who offered us water and papaya. We also met Eduardo, the poet, who conquered us with his generosity, joy and relaxation. Together we quoted the “Little Prince” and without realizing it, he opened his diary and dedicated me words that warmed my soul:
“Para Alice,
En unos de los momentos mas afortunados de mi dia, cuando pense que todo estava perdido alli estava, muy atenta de todo lo que pasaba a su alrededor. Decidi conocer a lá flor mas bella, inovadora, y interessante que nunca se olvido de el principito. Alice es alegre, es vida”
Cuba is tourism and so Eduardo advised us to call the police if someone invaded our space or touched us. With him I also learned that the Cuban people are peaceful, taught to accept the reality that surrounds them: a communist political regime where you are in favor of the state and the country, or against. The first letters that Eduardo’s grandmother learned at school, in 1959, were F, I, D, E, L. The Internet is a luxury, the salary is a misery, the water runs with little pressure, the streets pile up garbage, holes and nauseating smells. But this is the life they have.
Despite the late walks, we never felt unsafe. The overly specific compliments bothered us, but nothing that some Portuguese mumbled didn’t make us laugh. I remember the last night, when we went back to the Hostel in a grumpy mood. A group of kids, was staring at us laughing and mumbling something in our direction. One of them approached. With no patience, I gave him a murderous look:
– What’s up? What do you have to say today?!
– You sexy freak! – He said embarrassed.
It was inevitable not to laugh out loud. We all giggled non-stop, and this was the way we said goodbye to the Cuban capital.
A part of me stayed in Havana, like it always happens with every city that fills me with color, rhythm, peace and happiness.
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