First Impressions

As I am sitting on my bed to write this, bottom bunk, between Kristin and Rachel, a swirl of voices is surging outside of the door. We are staying at the church. Our bedroom shares a wall with the sanctuary in fact. A quinceañera has just finished, and the excited guests are chattering over prepared boxes of various sweets. This is an appropriate finish to a couple of busy days.

Yesterday, Friday, We arrived at Miami airport three hours early, and were pleasantly surprised to whiz through the baggage check-in and security. We enjoyed a traditional Cuban breakfast of strong coffee (I had two cups) and pastries filled with either guava or cheese and spinach. On the plane, I got my first glimpse of the Atlantic Ocean; it is a soft blue snaked with endless islands. In Havana, it took us a little longer to get through security, but once we were able to leave the airport, we met Rachel’s nephew. He took us to his house, and we all crammed into the cozy living room. After chatting and another round of coffee, we left in an old Soviet car-- a Lada--to see the city. It is beautiful, sitting right on the ocean. There is a mixture of old and new. Many of the cars are from the 50s, but a large number of buildings are being renovated. We then leave for Remedios, a four hour car ride. We arrive a little after 9, and enjoy a late dinner with Pastor Alexis’ family. We then prepare for bed and drift off to the sounds of Oscar and Yudilen practicing for the service in the morning.

Today, Saturday, we got up a little before 8 in the morning, pulling on clothes set out the night before. We have breakfast with Pastor Alexis’ family. Fresh mango juice, sweet toast, cheese, a mango marmalade, and the ever-present cup of Cuban coffee adorn the table. 

Today is the senior service and lunch, and after breakfast we prepare to attend it. At 9:30, we join the seniors in the neat rows of wooden benches and try our hand at the Spanish worship songs. Passionate is a good word to describe these people. Their emotions are clearly read on their faces, whole-heartedly worshipping. A woman who is unable to speak mounts the stage and illustrates a song with her hands. Oscar also walks onto the stage, singing joyously in worship. Pastor Alexis gives his message, and then dismisses us to lunch. Outside in the courtyard, Kristin takes a platter of eight plates, I follow closely behind with a couple of bowls of dessert bread, and another man carries a tray of drinks. Inside, tables and chairs are set up, and the expectant seniors gladly receive their food.

After the lunch, we prepare to head to the beach with the youth. A rented bus stops by the church, and we all pile in. The drive takes around an hour, most of it over a man-made isthmus only as wide as the road, connecting the numerous cays. We stop at a small clump of shops, and the kids (and many adults) are able to sight see and bowl for the first time. The employees at the bowling alley were horrified with our skill, and seemed anxious for us to leave; but we were having a grand time, cheering when we got a strike and laughing when someone rolled a gutter ball (there was a lot of laughing). At the beach we all rushed into the water. It was bath water, a hot tub in comparison to the Pacific, and so ridiculously clear that you could watch for shells buried in the sand. 

It is a quiet ride home, and when we arrive, a few of the guests for the quinceanera are already there. The boys are outside waiting for the ceremony to begin. Almost everybody is dressed in their best. The church is crowded with family and friends, many of which stay afterwards to clean up for the Sunday service tomorrow morning.

            Emily