Air Cubano-English Lit. Story

The time had finally come. The excitement, the adrenaline was pumping through my veins. My heart racing, my thoughts were scattered on every person, and all my surroundings. I am standing in the Miami airport about to go to a communist country in which no American can go. Where am I going you ask? Cuba is my destination with a passport in my hand and my luggage and I’m set. As we all eat snacks waiting to board the plane, we hear our flight number being called.
We walk down the stairs and on to the runway. As we are walking, I notice how small the plane is. On the side of the plane it says “Air Cubano,” with a little door and a staircase where the flight attendant welcomes us on board. She greets us with a warm hello as we go up the rickety staircase to our seats. The seats are very close together with a smooth blue fabric on them all with little compartments above them. The aisle is only big enough for one person, with one seat on the right, and two seats on the left. I glanced down at my ticket and saw my seat number, and luckily my seat was not by itself. I was two rows from the front and about four rows from the back and when I went to sit down, I gave my father the window seat. I did not want to see us take off or fly over the ocean, since I have never flown over the ocean before. When we sat down I put my book bag at my feet and got out my word search booklet to keep my mind off the plane.
After everyone had been seated the flight attendant shut the door and began to explain the emergency procedures. Wow, that’s a good way to calm my nerves, let’s talk about crashing and what to do if we don’t die! As the plane started up, one propeller started turning but the other one didn’t. When I get nervous I ask a lot of questions, so I turned to my dad and asked, “Why is only one propeller moving?” “It’s okay, it just starts after the other one,” said my dad. I was starting to panic so I decided not to listen to the flight attendant talking about emergency procedures. It’s time to take off, so we buckle our seat belts and prepare to fly. Both propellers are spinning as we pull onto the runway. My dad turns to me and says, “We’re next!” As we start to gain speed my heart drops and all the other sound is drowned out by the sound of the engine.
We get off the ground and everyone claps and cheers, especially the Cuban-Americans in the back. The Cuban-Americans were so happy just to be off the ground because they only get to go back to Cuba every four years. All of the sudden our plane drops down and everyone screams. I grab my father’s hand and my heart jumps back into my throat. All of the Cubans in the back of the plane laugh like it’s a roller coaster, while I’m scared to death! I seriously thought in that moment, on that plane that I was going to die. I prepared myself for the thought of dying and everything that comes with it. At that moment I instantly thought of a verse that we had memorized in church some time ago. It was 1st Timothy 1:7, “For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self discipline.” I knew in that instant that God would take care of me and my life was in his hands.
As soon as we landed and we got our bags I ran off the plane and kissed the ground! I was never so happy to be on land ever in my life. Once we arrived at the Cuban airport, we had to go to a special side of the airport in a building for Americans and Cuban-Americans. We could not be in the airport with everyone else; instead it was just us Americans with Cuban policemen. Walking in that building was just scary in and of itself. There were probably about ten policemen, all speaking Spanish, and so we were very confused. The building was small with little hallways with glass openings in the offices. Right before one of the offices was a yellow line that said “pare,” or stop in big yellow letters. The whole building reeked of cigarette smoke and on the wall there were big posters that said things like, “Welcome to Cuba,” and “Cuba is great!”
Each one of us had to walk up to one of the little offices and had the person our papers and our passport. I was to go to the window with my father, but as I walked up to the window the officer said that I had to back up and wait my turn. I should have been allowed to go with my father because I’m a minor but she would not allow it. As I watch my father being questioned, she finally says that he can go, and he asks if he can wait for me. The lady gets mad and says no and she lets him through the door to the other side. She says next and I approach the window shaking nervously. I hand her my papers and passport and she starts typing all of it into the computer. As she picks up my passport she holds it up and looks at me then back at the picture. Continually she stares at me and back at the picture, and I start to get a little scared. Then she handed me my papers and says, “Welcome to Cuba,” and then opens the door.
As I pass through the door and see everyone standing there I pass through security and move on to pick up my bags. My father asks me what happened and I told him that everything was fine and she didn’t ask me anything. He tells me to take my money to the currency exchange and get some Cuban pesos. We probably waited about 30 minutes for our bags to come through and finally we saw our first bag. After we retrieved all our bags we had to leave the airport and look for Isaac and Eduardo, two of our Cuban pastors. We pass through the sliding doors and see a fence with hundreds of Cubans behind it waiting to see if their family is coming through to see them. We pass through the gate to see the bus, Eduardo, David, and Isaac. We all greet each other with big hugs and a kiss on each cheek. Wow. It’s so good to be here.

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Wow...I totally and completly forgot that I had a blog! Wow! I just thought I'd say hi since I haven't written in forever! -lol-