I was sitting in my usual Havana “office” – Hotel Inglaterra – when my phone rang. An unknown Cuban number. It turned out it was Lily’s client. He had tried to call her first, but no answer. I am standing in front of the casa and nobody is here, he complained. I looked at my watch and realized it was one hour before the agreed check-in time. So Lily had probably just popped out for a moment and would be back to greet the guest at the appointed time. Of all my casa hosts, Lily was the most reliable. The client, I was happy to note, was the calm type. He agreed to go for a walk and return in one hour. Problem solved!

Two hours later I’d had plenty of opportunity to revise my opinion about Lily’s reliability. I was stressed and irritated. I have tried to call her more than 20 times and had sent messages on all available platforms. I had plans for the evening. But here was nothing else for it. Rather than to go out dancing with my husband I had to go and pick up Lily’s client.  

I first started working with Lily just 3 months ago. She had a lovely apartment just off Plaza Vieja. I instantly liked Lily. A tiny woman in her early thirties, always well dressed. Soft spoken for a Cuban. She listened to my advice, made the changes I asked for and we started working together. When the bookings started to come, she did amazingly well. Always in control and well planned. She also got rave reviews from the guests.   Once I invited Lily to my casa to give her a few ideas for her breakfast repertoire. It was such a fun day. She was already a good cook and so curious and open to everything. Over endless cups of strong coffe the two of us made baked beetroot, aubergine roulades and banana pancakes. 

When I think about Lily, it is intelligence that comes to mind. She was structured and motivated. Not the kind of person to leave her client on the door step with her phone turned off. That evening, I quickly found another casa for her client. But that was the smallest of my worries. I checked my communication with her over the last week. I had an uneasy feeling.

Sometimes when I met up with Lily she had her 4 year old daughter with her. Lily was no longer with the girl’s father. But we have a good friendship, she explained. One Sunday Lily saw me and Ricardo out walking in Vieja enjoying a couple of hours off work. She did not come over to say hello, because she did not want to disturb us. It made me laugh. You might have some Norwegian blood in you without knowing it, I told her. The leaving others alone part, out of consideration, being so typically Norwegian, and so untypically Cuban.   

After having sorted out the client, I tried to piece it together. First, I talked to a neighbour who said Lily left for Panama at dawn. She had her daughter with her. Panama? I was astonished. It is the usual shopping destination for Cubans who want to make negocio buying and selling something. But without having somebody to meet her client? Through another friend I got the number of the ex-husband. Lily is with her father, he told me. Lily had said nothing to him about clients. She had taken their son to visit his granddad. He expected her to be back late tonight. I was confused.

What is freedom? Opportunity? What is life when you feel you do not have it?

Then early his morning, the mystery was solved. Lily’s ex-husband and his mother and father turn up at my door step. Startling news.  Lily has taken her daughter with her and left Cuba. From what they have been able to piece together she has gone to Nicaragua, with the plan of getting to the USA where her mother lives. She took my daughter, said the ex-husband looking at me accusatory,  as if I had been orchestrating the whole thing. Suddenly I remember that Lily’s mother had been in Cuba visiting only a week back. It must have been very well planned. But aloud I say nothing. But her apartment , I say. Surely she would not just leave it. It turns out that the apartment, that I thought was hers, in reality belonged to her ex and his family. She lived there with her daughter and took care of the renting,

Every year a large number of Cubans leave the country. It can be summed up as looking for a life that will give opportunities that they do not believe that Cuba will give them in their lifetime. For me however, it was the first time I had somebody close to me in Cuba making that decision in secret, without informing anybody. It was a reminder of how different the Cuban society is and how little I am exposed to, despite living here.

Postscript: Now, a couple of months after Lily left, I happened to meet a friend of Lily. She said that the relation with her son’s father was not “friendly” as she told me. Most of the money from the rent was taken by him, she lived in the apartment only as long as he would permit her to be there. She felt without prospects for the future. The friend did not know she was planning to leave either, but Lily, used her intelligence, planned and left. Today I sneaked a view on her Facebook. There is activity, normal activity with publication of fashion and music. Nothing personal, no photos of her or her boy. But it leads me to hope that she is OK, that she is already with her mother in the US.

So long Lily. The best of luck. Really! Make your new life, and be happy.