Listening to the Donnas and The Muffs on Pandora,  while I wait for an alternate flight. Reno airport requires the pilot to  nose dive onto the runway. “Cancelled” in bright red on the board because 24 mph winds. This is a first and been so lucky all this time.  I thank Tongan ticket counter guy  and tell him “I love you” in Samoan. That is how I found out he’s not. “You’re not wearing a ta ovala” we laff I get an upgrade.  Passing thru security I often  wear an airport outfit for ease and use a square scarf as a top that later doubles as cover up, blanket or pillow. This time while flying from Las Vegas Nevada to Long Beach California I was told to “take it off” sheehs! Okay.  That’s it I’m getting the TSA pass. Finally homegirl recognizes my situation and comes to my aid. I have passed  thru many a security and not asked to alter my outfit. I love hearing these words but situations may  vary.  It pays to be nice and compliant. Ziajian.

YOUR  TINY HANDS BRING RELIEF.  I AM BOTH QUIET AND REFLECTIVE, ANTICIPATING RELIEF FROM HOLDING BACK AND HOLDING IN.  WE MAY NOT SPEAK EACH OTHERS LANGUAGE BUT I FOLLOW YOU AND ASSUME.  WE LISTEN TO THE OTHERS WHO COMPLAIN AND THOSE WHO SNORE.  MY ARM REST ON YOUR TINY LEG AS THE MUSIC WAFTS MUCH LIKE SCENT OF BLOSSOM BALMS AND OILS USED TO INFUSE THE NOTION THAT KNOTS WILL UNTIE.  YOU ARE DECEPTIVELY STRONG AND TIME IS CAPTURED PERFECTLY.  A DEEP  SIGH TO INDICATE HOW GRATEFUL I AM IN THIS MOMENT IN TIME.  AND SOMETIMES I WISH THIS WOULD NEVER END BUT ALAS IT DOES. 

If am not aware I might be overwhelmed by life.  So much is going on 24/7. Baby births and lobster fests. Projects and deadlines seem to be looming above my head and I wonder do the bedouin people have the same feeling?   I remember going to nine weddings.  And nine birthday parties at Chuck E. Cheese within a years time.  I think it’s okay to hibernate during the summer isn’t it? I’ve NOT been writing either so what gives. With recent events I continue to pray and not give up. Then I listened to Pablo Neruda poems and one stood out. The one about the bane of exsisting. The gift of dread and longing. I long for quiet, tranquility and isolation but only for a moment. 

It’s been pervasive in  thought that so many commercials seen reflect men as children and their wives as the parent.  I choose to see men as wonderful God given creatures who do just about everything in their power to makes us happy and  love us “just the way we are”.   Women must be charge of the advertising. The Carl’s jr. ad.  “The man puts a whole avocado in Blender?”  or the dad cooking with his children and the kitchen is mess.  Dad  implies it’s the a kids fault and the wife gives a look of disappointment.  Who did you think built the kitchen and a dad in  the kitchen enjoying time with the kids,  it’s where you focus is what flourishes.  Few years back I observed a slovenly dressed unattractive woman chastise her husband while at baggage claim in Las Vegas airport. She was nice to everyone except him. Final straw came in the form of  group shaming.  She gave him a dirty look and everyone around her looked at her as if say “Enough” and  she knew it.  I often say  “the weakest man is still stronger than the strongest woman”.  I stand by this message come rain or shine.  X is Y I love you.

“She’s a  NURSE”. I’d be at party and cringe if I was introduced this way.  Why? Because I’d be held captive in a corner holding my glass filled with proseco in one hand and examing a lesion on someone’s side rib cage with my other.  ” Can you tell me what this is? I really wanna say “Ebola” but I can’t I put down the hor d’oeuvre and say. ” I’m not a diagnostitian but it looks like (_____fill in the blank) freckle” Another time I was at a raging party and an acquaintance bit a chip and it got jammed between her tooth and gum line. She was miserable and before you know it I had her head in my lap saying “I see it” with two cocktail toothpicks I got it out. I was really proud of myself and I imagined how surgeons must feel.  Nursing is something I do but not who I am I told myself in protest. But nursing has given me gifts I could have not imagined for myself. And I love what I do so much that even the stereotypes don’t bother me.  So to all  the hotties out there. Male nurses too. Hope you enjoy your pen-calculator key ring. Ziajian

Bias aside, it’s challenging to quantify the quality of life here in Cuba. My observation:  predominantly rural countrysides  with sugar cane fields few orchards of mango guava and avocado. Yoked oxen plow and  rarely  a tractor seen.  Domestic livestock everywhere yet sparse.  Oxen, Brama, goats, chickens, street dogs with intact gonads, and skinny cats and their litters.  Few  peacocks which  can be seen and heard and especially the cacophony of Roosters.  Seemingly malnourished cattle. Horse buggies are  primary mode of people transportation but horses are also  used to move just about everything you can imagine  (cargo rubbish casket)  Dry climate brush and ground cover. Warm rains to blue skies can occur within hours of each other.  Schools both  primary and  secondary  identified with colored uniforms. Old bikes and long distances. Other areas townships  near coastlines appear to be like an  empty shell of what was once a oyster with  beautiful glistening pearl.  Bread is the most ample food source followed closely by more bread. Dry crackers, loaves, baguette and wafers. No one is fat because EVERYONE WALKS due to lack of vehicles (obvious  I know).  Had a pizza because locals would ordered it up like crazy. Took one bite and spit it back  out. Tossed  it to the  mangy street dogs and  neither one ate it. In the small markets, empty store shelves on one side and other side stacked to the gills of boxed OJ.  Did not matter who you were or what you wore no one was slovenly dressed. Jewelry adornment, most often gold. For women: earrings (small hoops, studs or teardrops) bracelet watch necklace. Men: watch necklace. Homes I stayed in: tile, chairs, rarely a sofa or tv. Water pressure varied…a lot, from a spicket stream to uniform trickles. Most buildings in decay, street vendors hijacking street lamp electricity to light up their stands to  sell one dollar pork sandwich the size of fist. Pristine beaches are alternatives to militia landmarks. Rare use of herbs or spices. Aromas are  essentially four groups: exhaust (cars factory or tractor ) road apples livestock smell, coffee, and outside of Habana fresh air. Sounds “Clop Clop Clop Clop ” of the horses, roosters ( all day )  people greeting each other from across the street and honking cars.  Meal for five: lobsters X2, chicken plate, fish plate 5 Pina coladas. Each person were given  a generous bowl of soup  and side of white rice. A soda and mojito. Approx 58 bucks.  Leftovers went to street doggies. The roads are fair yet can be  dangerous due to the frequent  crossings of horses,  people and animals on a daily basis. And of course the people…Beautiful.

While enjoying refreshments at Hotel National a serendipitous encounter took place. I met the daughter of Sal Landau. Apparently  he was the producer of the  documentary “Will the Real Terrorist Stand Up” . She has been coming to Cuba since 1960.  She was attractive and a Irish Lad  named “Shane” was in her company. In a nutshell she said. “Cubans’ have minimum of 12 grade education. Health care is such that a clinic for approx. 100 people is an Md., nurse and social worker. 4% infant mortality rate for total population of Cuba .  Cubans live longer than Americans. No one is homeless”   I listened intently as to compare what I’ve observed so far.  I also found interesting that she said most prostitutes here  hold Masters degrees in neuroscience, economics etcetera  and can outsmart the most intelligent person. “They have a 5 year plan so don’t even think you can get one over them”  I wasn’t planning to.  I asked why so preoccupied with Che “because he’s dead ” Her bent was obvious. And she was leaving Monday to go home to America. Ziajian

My travel ambassador said “I think we better go to Cuba before it opens up to 20 flights a day into Habana”  Europeans  come for sun and rest I guess.  While others have been coming  here for decades.  Customs immigration gal said  “DON’T SMILE” as she examined my passport. Balmy air quickly squelched  my fear of not stepping over boundaries   Drive from airport notice livestock with bony prominences. Dry and  arid  landscape,  fences that could fall with a  push of a hand, rubbish and debris then soot.  Brightly colored  clothes on women  yet in the  4 to 5 past days I’ve  yet to see a clothing store or anything closely resembling one.  Our particulares via Airbnb was nice but be careful not to get shocked while showering. A wire directly woven into one is reason for flip flops.  The HaBana with a a “B” stands for be careful of uneven streets be aware of  some of the food and be sure to exchange money for “CUCS” 1 CUC is about one dollar. Ziajian

Although I haven’t left California lately  it’s a the idea of going home to be with people I love. A sadness came in the form of death.  Attending a funeral of someone who represented  all that is good. Family, love and commitment was Mrs Retrosi’s Forte. The silver lining was reconnecting with all the schoolmates I knew as a single digit midget. The warm fuzzy feelings are there especially when you know everyone is thriving. Laughter supercedes all other emotions followed closely by love and touch. Selfishly I beam with pride. No one in jail for extortion or anything scandalous just a sense of wholesomeness. I’m leaving for Cuba in a few days and the first time in Long time I’m kinda of nervous. A former friend went about 10 years ago and she was mugged. I am going  utilize the love I received and like a invisible cloak, wear it knowing I’ll be just fine.

Poker has taught me a lot. To me Patience, discipline and observations are the most important tools. What poker hasn’t taught me  but life has, is to be childlike and relish the good stuff. I drove to a card casino to play an Omaha poker tournament with $25.00 buy-in with multiple rebuys in the 1st hour.  Sat between two local guys. First thing I said to myself “If they’re old and white they play tight”. Then an Asian married couple sat down “danger danger”. Couldn’t place plywood between them so if they knocked knees “oh well”. 33 people I’ve never met all wanting to make in the money. But is really about the money. No! its the rush! I live for the rush which some one had said “It’s like a drug”.  When you are in the zone nothing can stop you. Cut to the final table. 6 people left every one gets paid. Strategy is to eliminate the short stacks and collect “steal blinds”. Here is where I got into the Zone. I told myself I made it this far and I DON’T CARE. I played late position knowing people would fold. I doubled up. I knew that homegirl was going to get tired of me stealing blinds in late position and call me. When she did I had monster drawing hand. She singlehandedly double me up and she didn’t see the two 10k chips on the bottom of my stacks. Final table rules allowed no limit status so I pushed all in knowing I had a fifty percent chance of winning. The two remaining players asked to chop and I agreed. Whenever I won my showdowns I jumped up and down and did a little dance. I didnt care if I looked foolish “really a $25.00 tournament?” I jump with excitement knowing I was in the zone and I was going to use my whopping $288.00 win at the cash game and make more. Ziajian