When my parents met while studying in Russia, I was born in her womb, and since the society at that time was different, we could not go to Cuba or Mongolia together, so my father returned to Cuba and my mother came to Mongolia to give birth to me. It was agreed that my father would come after some time after arranging his work there. During that time, we had been communicating by letter for 2 years, but suddenly one day, I lost touch with my father and disappeared. Human beings do not ask animals and even contact the messenger. A few months later, I learned of his death from a friend who studied with him in Russia. My mother works, I grew up with my grandparents since I was a child, I didn’t know my father since I regained consciousness, I only had pictures of him. My grandmother told me that my father died in a plane crash. My mother and I wanted to visit my father’s birthplace, Cuba, but it seemed too far away from Mongolia, so we didn’t have the chance to go. Even later, in 2013, my aunt, who lives and works in Canada, gave me the opportunity to study there for 1 year, and I went. The night before I left for Canada, my grandmother gave me an old letter envelope and sent it to your father’s address, whatever it may be. I went there, studied and worked there, and after my visa expired, I returned to Mongolia.
Then, just before returning, there was a 7-day discount itinerary to Cuba in September, and my sister sent me with her son. The day I boarded the plane happened to be my birthday. Went and landed in the town next to where my father lived. It was almost there, so I decided to see the city and house where my father lived, so I went to Santiago for 4 hours with an English-speaking taxi driver who serves tourists. When I got there, I stood back outside a house and said, “Well, that’s your father’s house.” The taxi driver stopped and watched from the outside, but a man came out from inside. Since it’s a small neighborhood in Santiago, the people in that area are very friendly. A woman came and asked me where I was going, but the taxi driver, who didn’t speak Spanish, explained that there was someone from Canada who came to see this house. Then he asked my name and I told him my name and surname, he held his head and screamed and ran to the house. I can’t even get down because of panic. Then one brother and grandmother with crutches came out of the house. When his brother came, he would say come down, come down and kiss grandma. I’m in complete shock. That man turned out to be my father’s brother, his grandmother was my father’s mother, and the one who ran screaming was my father’s younger brother.
I am translating in English to the other driver. I was taken home and many people came from all over the area. My father’s friends and neighbors. Everyone has been living there since my father passed away. The family cried and hugged him because he looked so much like his father. I really don’t know what to say, I can’t get over the shock. Even more strangely, I met my own sister. Your sister said that she was nearby at work, so she went and brought me, and when she saw me, she hugged me and cried a lot. That day I learned exactly how my father died. There was an uprising in Cuba, and my father went with his friends and was killed by others. My mother probably told me such a story because my family didn’t know about it. I even visited the remains of my father, whom I had never met. The taxi driver, my cousin and I had already agreed to go back as soon as we got there. Then the taxi driver was surprised to see what happened and said, “It doesn’t matter, let’s stay until late, it’s going to be like a movie.” He stayed with me until late. Even before, when my parents were studying in Russia, my grandparents visited me from Mongolia, and they gave my father a calendar with the picture of Queen Mandukhai.
My father treasured it because it looked like my mother, so he hung it in the backyard of the house, and it has been hanging there for 24 years. We made food and drinks for the 3 of us and told me to stay for a few days. I had a return flight the other day, so I spent one day together and returned in the evening. I remember the night when I arrived at the resort, I drank a little and cried so much until I broke down inside. He communicates with his older sister by mail, and he will return to Cuba one day with his wife and children. If there are people like me who don’t know, don’t know, and don’t have the courage to meet my father’s family, it’s okay to find them and meet them. There is no denying that there is a whole family waiting for you to love and welcome you.