Catelaya

by Taylor Heron (United States of America)

Making a local connection Cuba

My hotel bartender advised my best friend and I of a popular strip of nightclubs favored by young Cubans on our first night in Havana He said it was just a few miles up La Malecon, the popular roadway and seawall our hotel sat on. We took the 20 minute taxi ride to the area to find a club we liked. I wasn't inside for more than ten minutes when a tall, dark, and handsome man introduced himself to me as "Marlon Brando". I laughed at his ridiculous made up name and told him mine in return but, he shook his head no in response. "You name is Cataleya." He said in English as best he could. He took my hand in his and kissed it. Charming. I was intrigued and allowed Marlon Brando to lead me on the dance floor. The night was going great until my best friend's purse and all her money went missing! Marlon helped us search for her bag yet, my distrust and disdain for him quickly grew. Feeling setup, I launched in to a verbal attack, called him a thief, and stormed outside as I cursed his existence. I was unsure how to catch a taxi back to our hotel so my best friend and I took the short walk home. Marlon followed us the entire way professing his innocence. My best friend and I did our best to ignore him, hoping he would just go home. The next afternoon when we walked out of our hotel, a sleep deprived Marlon was waiting outside in the same clothes. I decided to let the events of the night before go and give the handsome stranger that initially sparked my interest a chance. I enjoyed every moment of my vacation with Marlon since that day. We somehow managed to understand each other perfectly, his botched English a perfect match for my mediocre Spanish. He showed me the best beaches, shops, restaurants and we danced our nights away. I slept at his home on the nights I was too tired to make it back to our hotel, Marlon taking the living room floor as my best friend and I shared his bed. We lounged along La Malecon with beers and took in the ocean scent as we shared our stories, laughing and crying for hours. When I ran out of money because of spending for two after my best friend lost her belongings, he shared the little he had without hesitation. I quickly learned that Cuban authorities frowned upon natives mingling with tourist. We would often get stopped for questioning so, I'd flash the emerald ring I wore on my wedding finger and say I was his "esposa" or ‘wife” in Spanish, visiting from America. Marlon would kiss my hand and pull me close, it worked like a charm each time. My last night in Havana, Marlon asked his sister to make a farewell dinner. Marlon had told me how close he was with his sister and had tried a few times to bring us together to meet before I left the island. I was excited to meet and tell his sister about all he had shown me in Cuba. While she prepared our final Cuban meal, I danced across his the living room with my best friend as Marlon clapped and counted in Spanish. When the food was ready, she walked towards his tiny table holding a huge bowl of rice with black beans and instructed Marlon to carry out the dozen boiled eggs she made to go along with it. “Marlon, you missing Catelaya tomorrow?" his sister asked him as we ate our small feast. Taking a sip of his beer, Marlon looked in to my eyes. The somber look of my impending departure was written on his face. He answered with "My esposa forever." He brought my hand to his lips and held it against them for a few seconds longer than normal. "Catelaya," his sister called, "You missing Marlon tomorrow?" "Yes. I will miss my esposo Marlon Brando." I answered. I then turned to Marlon, slid my hand back in to his, and said "But, I will miss Catelaya the most."