微光渐亮,窗外老城的白墙渐变成深邃的浅蓝。敞开阳台门上的窗,湿凉的空气涌入房间,我不经打了个激灵。这时,一台老款雷诺驶过,未燃尽的柴油废气扑面袭来。Welcome to Cuba
重新翻开记忆的序章,哈瓦那机场显得比八天前抵达时更加低矮。安检大厅人头攒动着实有些喘不过气来。六个安检仪只有两个在缓慢蠕动,安检员对两巴掌大的电子屏毫无兴趣,却快速打量着乘客,好像直觉来的更准确。来机场的路上十分困倦,伴着车体随着路面颠簸,醒来我已经抵达机场门口。八天如一晃而过的舞台剧,还看得意犹未尽,坐席的灯光已经再次亮起。(original)
The faint light gradually brightens, and the white walls of the old city outside the window turn into a deep, pale blue. Opening the window on the balcony door, cool, damp air rushes into the room, and I shiver. Just then, an old Renault drives by, and the lingering diesel fumes hit me full-on. Welcome to Cuba.
Returning to the beginning of my memories, Havana Airport feels even lower than it did eight days ago. The security hall is crowded, almost stifling. Only two of the six scanners are sluggishly operational; security personnel seem disinterested in the small screens, instead quickly sizing up passengers, relying more on intuition. On the way to the airport, I felt drowsy, lulled by the vehicle’s jolting along the bumpy road. I woke to find myself at the airport entrance. The past eight days passed like a fleeting stage play—just as I was fully absorbed, the lights in the theater have come up once more.