Lost in Translation.

I'm home. I'm not ready for this yet. Though, it's a welcome change from the last 24 hours I spent in Cancun. (Too mucking fuch, as the billboard read.)

I stayed up to the wee hours of the morning looking at pictures, listening to the music that's popular in Cuba right now, and unpacking (which essentially consisted of taking everything out of my backpack and dumping it into the laundry basket).

I woke up just a few hours later, in a different part of the wee hours of the morning, and I suppose eventually I will have to go to work. It's not work that I'm so much not looking forward to - it's being asked about my trip. There's really no way for me to put it into words. One friend suggested I just get everyone into a conference room for the first half of the day and tell everyone at once about the trip so I wouldn't have to do it over and over again. If I thought I could articulate my experience even once, it's not a bad idea.

I did open up my journal this morning to get a phone number, then started flipping through the pages and found a short entry I wrote while waiting for someone. I wanted to take note of some of the suggestions made by the Cubacar map when I rented a car, I found the translations amusing.

• Pay attention to car driving
• Do not drinkings when driving
• Avoid Dazzle

I finally got through to a friend in Cuba this morning after several attempts since landing in Mexico - then Houston - then Portland. I only reached the answering machine, even still, it helped me feel much more grounded making even the slightest connection back with Havana.

My mom often quotes someone (who, I don't remember just now) saying something like "My trip was just perfect in that it was too short." I am glad to not have overstayed my welcome, and I will admit that it was so amazing I kept waiting for the ball to drop and to be disappointed in the end (or for someone to pinch me awake), but ... I'm already ready to return ... or maybe bring a bit of Cuba home with me ... more on that later ...