A traveler is a dreamer. A traveler rejects their comfort zone and longs for something different, for immersion in the unknown, for the chance to walk in the shoes of another.
In Cuba we talked about the possibility of one day owning a home there. We dreamed of finding the perfect spot, close to the malecón and the bustle of downtown, but also near friends and family. As we walked around Havana I started pointing out any house or apartment building that called my attention. “There is it, that’s our house!” I collected dozens of houses all around the city, and now in Ecuador as well, everywhere I go.
I’ve created so many lives for myself this way. Lives in which I’m living in the crumbling but majestic ruins of Old Havana, ones where I’m a campesina in the Andes mountains tending herds, lives in which I live in sprawling estates along the coast, fenced in by palm trees.
Meet my houses: