Leaving Cuba for the first time was an experience I could have never fully prepared for. I had spent my entire life in Havana, surrounded by the familiar streets, the warmth of my people, and the rhythm of an island that never truly sleeps. But on that day, I stepped into an airplane for the very first time, and everything changed. The sensation of takeoff, the momentary weightlessness, the view of the ocean stretching infinitely below me—it all felt surreal. And then, after hours of anticipation, I felt the jolt of the landing gear touching down. My first destination outside of Cuba was none other than the United States of America. A place I had only seen in movies, read about in books, and heard of in passing conversations. And the city that welcomed me? Houston, Texas.
Houston is unlike any place I had ever imagined. From the moment I stepped out of the airport, I was struck by its vastness. The roads stretched farther than my eyes could see, lined with towering buildings and flashing signs, a stark contrast to the narrow, bustling streets of Havana. It felt like an entirely different world, one that was both intimidating and exhilarating.
One of the highlights of my time in Houston was visiting the Space Center Museum. Walking through the exhibits, I was transported into the history of space exploration, surrounded by artifacts that had once traveled beyond our planet. Seeing the Saturn V rocket up close left me speechless. It was a humbling reminder of how far human ambition can take us, a symbol of boundless possibility. For someone experiencing so many firsts, standing beneath that towering monument to exploration felt particularly meaningful.
Houston’s climate was another surprise. I had expected a warm, sunny Texas, but instead, the city welcomed me with cloudy skies and a moody atmosphere. The grey horizon added a certain depth to the towering skyline, making the city feel even grander. The weather shifted frequently, one moment the air was thick and humid, and the next, a breeze would cut through, bringing a sudden coolness. It was unpredictable yet fitting for a city so full of contrasts.
And then there were the highways: massive, intricate, weaving through the city like endless rivers of concrete. Coming from a place where most people get around on foot or by bus, the sheer scale of Houston’s roads was overwhelming. The speed, the number of lanes, the way cars flowed endlessly in every direction, was both mesmerizing and slightly terrifying. But in a way, it symbolized Houston’s essence: a city constantly in motion, expanding, and reaching for something greater.
As night fell, Houston transformed again. The city lights flickered on, illuminating streets lined with restaurants, bars, and music that filled the air. The nightlife in there was so electric, diverse, energetic, and full of life. Whether it was live music echoing from a rooftop bar, neon lights reflecting on polished car hoods, or the laughter of people enjoying a night out, the city radiated an energy that was impossible to ignore. It was a different rhythm from Havana, yet something about it felt familiar, like the joy, the passion, the unspoken connection between people embracing the night.
I was only there for three fast days that came as one and it was not until I had to take a plain again, that I really realize that I was in North America. I mean, the weather felt different but it didn't feel as such due the people, their culture, the language and even the likeness with my home city. What I did not like of all was the weather itself, it feels heavy and hard to carry some air in the lungs, but I was glad to land in there at first, because the coldness were incresing over days. This was my first ever experience outside my country, what about yours?
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Wow, you managed to capture the beautiful moments of this trip very well.
Wow, it's amazing that you captured such a beautiful moment and had a great day ❤️
As a Cuban I understand your feeling...my first travel was to América too. But to New York city, I did a solo show of my paintings there! ..I heard a lot about Boston that time, cause in the airport I shared the taxi with a woman from Boston...And yes América is amazing...