A tropical-balkanian exploration

We were sitting on the plane, my mother, my dad and I. We had had a good time during the flight, but the last hour we got all silent. As I looked to my left, I saw my mum, who seemed pretty nervous. She was about to see her homeland and her family, after living 17 years in Hungary. Though I was 14, I had never been to Cuba before, so I was quite excited as well. When I try to recall that day 10 years ago, I remember the moment I stepped Cuban soil – still at the José Martí airport – and felt the Caribbean humidity flowing into my face. I heard slight tunes of salsa music from a radio at the background but I couldn’t really focus on anything: the high glass doors were opening in front of me. All I could see were many people waiting for their beloved ones but still, I tried to find my family in the crowd. Then I saw my mother dropping her luggage and running towards my grandma and the next moment they were hugging and kissing and of course, crying. I looked at the bunch of people surrounding them, and I had an indescribable feeling. All those people were strangers, but at the same time, they were my family. When I hugged all of them, my shyness disappeared immediately. We were talking as If we had been living together all our lives, spending Christmas Eves, and Birthdays together every year. We got into the cab, and the emotions of the last half hour kept my paralyzed. I couldn’t do anything but stare out of the window and absorb unfamiliar pictures that I had stored in my mind from the stories my mum had told me: immensely high palm trees, dilapidated colonial houses that reminded me of another era, and finally the view of the Malecón as we were approaching the city centre. I’ve been to several countries and I liked them most, but this experience was wholly different. Though everything was new – even the air I was inhaling felt unususal - I knew I was home.