Johnson: We need community – Lesson from my studies abroad

1 / 2

Patrick Johnson

Photo supplied, Weber State University

2 / 2

This undated photo shows Patrick Johnson in Cuba during his time studying abroad.

Photo supplied, Weber State University

❮
❯

Cuba was a curveball in my plans. Between my studies at Weber State University, my job as a marketing assistant at Lucky Slice Pizza, serving as president of the WSU Snowboard Club, and my hobbies in outdoor recreation and photography, life was already packed. But a friend once told me, “Stay curious and stay open.”

So, when my communication professor, Dr. Atkins, asked the class if anyone wanted to take a study abroad opportunity, I quickly raised my hand. I scanned the classroom for other interested students, but I was alone. It left me wondering why. Would I be safe? Would I make friends? How would I pay for it? I also worried that the workload for the trip, which required me to create a media piece, would be overwhelming.

“Stay curious and stay open.”

To raise money for the trip, I organized some of my 35 mm film photos into a small gallery. A friend of mine offered up his space for the event, which included a backyard oven where I could make pizza for my guests. Another friend offered to photograph and promote the event. With help from others, things were starting to click.

Although I still had concerns about whether I’d taken on too much, ideas for the media piece began to flow. I recalled times I’ve spent thumbing through snowboard magazines and realized that creating something similar could be an effective way to meet the trip project requirements. I planned to do the design, photography and writing with a focus on community and how Cubans find fulfillment.

When I landed in Cuba, I was hit by a wall of humidity, vibrant landscapes, chirping birds and a friendly taxi driver named Alejandro. He was a mechanical engineer but made more money driving a taxi. He explained that, according to the Cuban government, the peso at the time was worth 1.2 to every U.S. dollar, but in the local market it’s more like three to four pesos for one U.S. dollar. Basically, mechanical engineers don’t make much because they’re employed by the government.

The majority of people on the island struggle to get by and turn to alternative methods. Cuban citizens are unable to get much food, medicine and supplies due to U.S. embargoes and Cuban policies restricting local business. The demand for these necessities leads citizens to buy and sell goods privately, regardless of the repercussions.

Seeing this process in person made me feel grateful for the opportunities I have in the United States. And yet, there was something about Cubans’ dependence on one another that spoke to me — something that contrasts with how we tend to operate in the U.S. When did we start believing it’s fashionable not to need other people?

Alejandro studied abroad in London, where he had a job making more money, but chose to come back to Cuba. He told me he missed the sun, his friends and family. Community. I noticed this theme throughout my trip to Cuba.

On our last night there, we walked to the Malecón, a long seawall spanning a northern portion of the island. I met some locals there who did their best to speak English and I reciprocated with my best Spanish. They told me about their times fishing off the seawall, the hurricanes that have damaged much of the island’s historic architecture, and their lives in the medical field. I was shocked to hear they made the equivalent of $4 a month. Before leaving, I gave them $10. It didn’t seem like much, so I was startled when the man grabbed me in a tight embrace and kissed me on the cheek.

Since returning home, I’ve recalled moments from Cuba that remind me how much I have — and that I always have something to give. They remind me to stay focused on community, to dedicate myself to the things I love: pizza, snowboarding, photos and much more.

Last season, I was snowboarding at Powder Mountain and met another student who was surprised to hear I had a marketing job but didn’t yet have a college degree. He said something like, “Oh, you’re self-made. Cool.” I don’t remember everything I said in response, but today, with what I’ve learned since, I’d tell him that I appreciate his confidence in me but that I’ve succeeded with help from good friends and loved ones. Nobody is really “self-made.” You need your community and they need you.

Patrick Johnson is a communication major at Weber State University and president of the WSU Snowboarding Club.