Saturday, 4 August 2012

Home, sweet home.

Going home was what I had been looking forward to.
I seriously enjoyed my trip. To no end.
But the last week, through out our visiting through Panama, we kept gleefully reminding each other we were almost home. As if either of us needed reminding ;)
Anouk was looking forward to being reunited with her boyfriend, and I with my family, whom I hadn't seen since last September (with that exception of a week in February)..

The morning of leaving Panama City, though, I felt queasy. It had started with heartburn the evening before, and ended in a fever by the end of the morning. I kept telling myself to put one foot before the other, so I managed to somehow land myself in my seat in the plane. Off to Cuba!
Now, I was quite frustrated with this. The plan had been to go into Habana Vieja, then visit Grisel again. I couldn't even imagine surviving the plane ride. I kept zoning in and out of dozes, where I heard everything but couldn't actively DO anything.

At José Martí airport, though, I was conscious enough to walk out of customs, get the bags and call Grisel. She was at home, and answered us with her "I've been waiting for you all day!", so familiar it made me smile.  Then, we decided to head there first, and Anouk would go into Habana Vieja the next day if I was too sick to join. Regardless of the fever, the lack of appetite (I even refused her delicious ice cream!), and the general exhaustion, I managed to pretend to be social, and we even played a game of Cuban dominoes :)

I felt slightly better the next morning, and after a cold shower to take down the fever, I actually felt fit enough to accompany Anouk downtown. I really wanted to, not only to get the final souvenirs, but to complete the cycle we had started so many weeks ago.
And that's exactly what it was. It was awesome to be back. Everything looked and felt so familiar.
And we ended up being driven by the same cab driver the entire time, from the airport to Grisel, from her place to Habana Vieja and from there back to the airport.

I've been home two weeks now. The first day I spent in hospital, with an IV in my arm. A warm welcome home :P Now, I'm recovered in so far that fever is gone, and I don't feel "sick".
I am chronically tired, but never sleepy. I think it's a combination of jetlag, Ramadan, having been sick, as well as getting used to having my (rowdy) siblings around again, being bored randomly, which turned it into insomnia with a queasy edge. Next week it's doctor/hospital visits again, but otherwise: I'm super excited it's August! It's going to be an epic month! :D

The Gypsy