Reborn anywhere

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(Edited)

Greetings to all those currently passing through the #WeekendExperiences community.

I want to share that this weekend has been truly surprising and a rewarding experience.

A few days ago, a dear friend and radio colleague arrived in Guyana from Cuba. He is one of the most recognized male voices in the province where we lived. His name is Armando, and he still carries the fear in his eyes that all of us emigrants bring when arriving in a completely new place, where we will need to reinvent ourselves, adapt, become resilient, and withstand everything that involves uprooting ourselves and replanting.

In our case, even the language is a barrier, as we do not speak English, which is the official language of Guyana. (Although Guyanese Creole is also widely used, which is a language with British foundations but influenced by African and Indigenous dialects).

Armando, like me, comes from a very humble family, so humble that we did not always know, while having lunch, what we would eat for dinner. Our country became land in our mouths, and the Motherland that was supposed to nourish us burned her nipples and swallowed our eyes.

So one day we left. I went first, a year ago, and now he has come. As soon as I learned of his arrival, I hurried to welcome him and help him find a safe place and guide him in his first steps in this country. Once that task was done, I hadn't seen him again, we only talked through WhatsApp.

Today I invited him to be part of a family outing, and he accepted, so my husband went to get him, and we headed to Giftland Mall, a wonderful place I've talked about before and that I always find charming.

When we entered the place, his eyes filled with sparkles; he looked like a small child. “I haven't seen so much light in a thousand years”, he said with laughter and a desire to cry.

He marveled at the grand decorations, the giant ceiling ornaments, the excess of bright colors, and once again the light, always the light. He returned to it more than once.

He took out his cellphone and started to take pictures of everything: the fish swimming oblivious to what was happening outside their fishbowl, some handcrafted white owls perched in the hollow of a beautiful tree, the variety of offers for candies, books, ice creams...

Then we ordered a delicious fish fillet with spicy sauce and slices of fried green plantain.

I was amazed to see that he took his time devouring his food. "¿Do you like it?" I asked. And a: "Of course, yes, yes, thank you, Yura," was all he could say. And I knew. I knew he was thinking about what his wife and daughter were eating at that moment in Cuba. I knew it because it is the most recurring thought that comes to all of us immigrants.

Then we continued taking pictures of all the beautiful things in the huge Mall. But what really captured his heart were the stuffed animals.

His eyes filled with tears: “¿Who wouldn't want to see my little girl with one of these?” And I, too sensitive and easy to cry, gave him a few pats on the back and said: “When you least expect it, you will have her with you, just wait”. And I walked away discreetly because, ¿what can you say to a father who has just arrived and will still have to fight very hard, tough, and continuously to reunite his family?

When we returned home, we made sure he arrived safely to his, not without giving each other a hug so strong, but so strong, that I felt I would burst into tears at any moment. And he did. He wiped his tears in embarrassment and left quickly, perhaps ashamed that we saw him cry. If you asked me: ¿What has impacted you about someone you know well and why?, without a second's hesitation I would tell you about Armando, an excellent broadcaster, good husband, good father, my friend.

And I would tell them how new and strange their tears were to me, because I never saw him cry for his own pain. But I could see him break down, in front of the pain of the family waiting in Cuba for a brief but powerful message: "I have already gathered the money for their tickets. In a few days, they will be with me".

If only I knew about the unstoppable power of those words!

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

This post was written without the use of AI. The images belong to me. The Banners were created in Canva.



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11 comments
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Que fuerte, estaba embobada, como Armando, mirando los peluches (Stitch especificamente)sabes pensando en quien, cuando caí en nuestra cruda y triste realidad.
Cuántos Armando lloran en otras latitudes y lo peor es que no sabemos cuantos más lo harán.

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Ay, mi Ele, no imaginas cuánto lo pudimos comprender. Yuri pasó lo mismo cuando tuvo que salir solo y dejarnos a Caleb y a mí detrás. Cuando llegaba a lugares bonitos o comía algo rico, no podía sentir cierta culpa 🥹. Aprendió a disfrutar y a agradecer, cuando nos tuvo a su lado, compartiendo con él tantas bendiciones.
A Armando le queda un camino largo y espinoso aún, pero esperemos que pronto pueda reunir a su familia.

Le gustan los Stitch a la niña más linda y preciosa de Matanzas?

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You'll need to edit your title into English only, dual language doesn't comply with this community's rules.

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Oh, thank you very much for informing me.
I already fixed the title 🥰

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t's so wonderful to spend a weekend like this with the people you love most in the world.

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Así es cómo se disfrutan los fines de semana, rodeados de seres que nos aman y amamos, compartiendo experiencias

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