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Clay in the Hands of the Potter

This blog is me pouring my heart out as I share the amazing things my Heavenly Father has done on this journey. The radical changes He has made in my life is not just beneficial for me, but is also to share with those around me. I want others to experience the same intimacy with their Creator as I have. God is good and His love endures forever!

An Exchanged Life in Cuba

One month in Cuba... The realization that we would be in a communist country for a month dawned on me like a cold shower on a winter's morning. To be perfectly honest, I had a multitude of preconceived ideas before coming to Cuba. Prejudices birthed out of ignorance and lack of knowledge. Biases that could turn one month in a foreign country into a month of turmoil and negativity. 

In the beginning, I thought I had Cuba all figured out. It's a communist country, so of course everyone would be morbid and depressed. I was so wrong. So very very wrong. 
These misconceptions were shattered and utterly destroyed during the first day we arrived in Cuba. Landing on that airport runway, I immediately felt my entire body stiffen - and it had nothing to do with the G-forces in the plane. I was apprehensive to speak or say anything for fear of offending anyone. I didn't even want to continue my custom of taking photos at the airport, because I thought it would ensure my one-way ticket to prison. Man, I was so paranoid. 
 
The cherry on this delicate dessert of foregone conclusions? Cuba is a Spanish-speaking country, which required dusting off the annals of my memory containing the Spanish we learnt three months prior. Along with nervousness, time-zone changes and lack of sleep, I said "Buenos dias" (good morning) to the first security guard I see in the airport terminal. It wouldn't have been such a bad thing...except that it was two in the afternoon. Great start to Cuba :)
 
While trying to stay cool, calm and collected under the sweltering heat of my own narrow-mindedness, I passed through the stamp-in location unharmed. I then nervously fluttered and stuttered through the security check to the baggage claim. It didn't make it any easier that all the Spanish I had learnt all those months ago evaporated as I tried to converse with the woman at the baggage carousel. 
 
Eventually, we left the airport terminal and adopted a corner outside as our temporary home - we were in Havana, the capital of Cuba. We needed to reach our ministry point in Santiago de Cuba 900km away on the other side of the island in the cheapest and least time-consuming manner possible. While Maxine and the travel team sorted out our religious visas, I took Luiza along with me to practice my Spanish on an unsuspecting taxi driver. It certainly went better this time - I could almost feel the Spanish wheels creaking into action in my mind as I discussed classic cars with Antonio. 
 
Eventually, we got our visas and summoned a herd of taxis to take the eleven of us, with our bags, to the bus terminal. It was that taxi ride that formed the first few cracks in my predispositions. 
 
We were in a taxi with the friendliest old man you'd ever meet. Swapping stories about living in South Africa and living in Cuba in broken Spanglish, Joél drove us to the terminal. The taxi closely resembled an overweight bumble bee, with its yellow-and-black paint job. We piled in and he found some English songs from the 80s for us to listen to. We made videos and laughed as the sunset streaked across the Cuban sky. Joél gave us little green fruits to try, called mamícel, which I really enjoyed. 
 
It was then that I saw it: a 1950, cherry-red Chevrolet, driving next to us. I shrieked in excitement - the car-nut in me rejoiced at the sight of such an exquisite vehicle. Joél explained that Cuba was the natural habitat of cars such as this one, populating the entire country. It roams along the streets amongst other classic metal beasts such as the Plymouth, Ford and Buick, while feeding on gasoline and countless paint jobs. I couldn't believe it! 
 
My heart changed towards Cuba then. Not just because of the excitement of speaking Spanish or the classic cars or kind people such as Joél. Truth be told, those were catalysts in the destruction of my biases. However, my heart only changed as I realized that I could miss out on so many things, simply because I was prejudiced and ignorant. God used that taxi ride to disintegrate my preconceived ideas, paving the way to an amazing time in Cuba. Many things changed in my heart during my first two weeks in this beautiful country, and I look forward to the other things The Lord has planned for me!
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