Day Five: Stages of Homecoming

On our last day we had a pretty chill morning. I went for a short run and Hami picked up up to bring us to the airport. Due to a lack of edible food, we were both pretty pumped to be leaving despite having a good trip. And to me, going home is the sweetest part of travel. Being away from everything you love at home, the things you don't like so much all seem to disappear. For me arriving home is a time of intense gratitude for all that I have.

Homecoming is a multi stage process in my mind. First, there is the arrival at your departing airport. This may be a stressful situation. For us, we were dropped at the wrong terminal and told we had to take a cab to the proper terminal. In such as situation you are at mercy of the cab drivers. They know that you need them. The first guy tried to tell us 10 cucumbers. I said hell no, I'd rather walk. We had plenty of leftover cucumbers, but it's a matter of principle. The next guy said 5 Cucumbers and I was all in. On the way he offered to exchange Nina's money 1:1. It seemed legit and she went for it, and it was. Once again we encountered the very sexy airport staff and that sat in the little airport spending the last of our cucumbers on various trinkets. The boarding of planes was not very organized. There weren't really terminals per say but lines to get outside and board the plane on the tarmac. Due to this jumble we almost missed our plane. But we didn't.

We arrived in Fort Lauderdale fully expecting the proper shake down we anticipated as Americans visiting Cuba. It never came. It was complete smooth sailing. Encountering an American airport is the second stage of homecoming. I call this the re-emersion into one's native culture. The stage was exemplified as we waiting in line to get our bags through customs security. A spunky Floridian airport worker shouted tips for "moving it along" and bossed around travelers and their bags. Her let's get it going, let's be efficient, screw you if you don't like me attitude was a breath of fresh air. We were officially back in the U.S.

And then there was food. I ate my ass off in that airport in ways I have zero desire to do in a normal scenario. But having survived on bland beans, ice cream and coffee for five days I was all in for whatever crap I could my hands on. I looked at my lunch with utter disgust and then ate it with unabashed pleasure.

Stage three is arriving at my hometown airport. I love coming home to Nashville airport. It's not too big. The people are friendly and there is always live music in the corny tootsie's airport cafe serenading your walk down the terminal. It just feels like home.

Finally there is the actually arrival at home when I'm reunited with my people, my animals, and my own bedroom. Ain't nothing better. The final stage of homecoming is showering in my own shower; cleansing my airport and trip dirt off and being baptized by warm water and soap back into my wonderful life.

Don't get me wrong, Cuba was great, but I've yet to visit a place I love more than home.