Tale of an enchanting island
By Caroline Mooser
On the eve of the 50th anniversary of Cuba's revolution, I received a call from my Cuban friends Milagros, Abraham and Yohlandelis. They were preparing a typical, lip smacking meal of chicken (pollo asado) with lemon and garlic, rice and beans (congrÃ), and fried plantains (tostadas).
Milagros reminded me to bring the ulcer medication for her boyfriend Abraham and also a few red, white and blue beads for her bracelets and necklaces. I told her I could satisfy these small requests and bring other goodies from the States in the spring when I return with another group of Santa Clara students.
Hearing Milagros's voice reminded me of the night we spent dancing casino (Cuban salsa) to Los Van Van, a salsa powerhouse and Cuban institution since 1969 that perfected and popularized the sound of songo, a musical genre mixing rumba, son Cubano, jazz and funk.
I remember working up a sweat trying to keep up with the fast rhythm, spins, twists and turns initiated by my partner after consuming a couple Cuba libres at El Chorrito, the popular, outdoor cafeterÃa across from the baseball stadium in Santiago de Cuba.
Those lessons back in Havana paid off. I was finally able to keep up with a Cuban dancer after 10 weeks of drilling to the basic salsa dance rhythm of uno, dos, tres as well as the varying steps of rumba, chachachá, son, conga and mambo.
Milagros was one of the many Cubans I met during my 10 week stay in Havana. Seven students and I studied Cuban music and dance at El Centro Nacional de Escuelas de Arte as part the Santa Clara Cuba Program.
Music professor Robert Bozina obtained academic licenses for us to study legally in a country that has been off-limits to American tourists since April 19, 1982, when President Reagan overturned President Carterôs efforts to permit travel to Cuba.
Having graduated last June, senior Trisha Hall enrolled herself in another academic quarter so she could partake in the Cuba program. "The people and their way of life was what made an impression on me. They haven't gone through the easiest of times but always find a way to prevail and continue on using whatever is around them. Of course the music and culture is great and how everyone could dance so well was amazing," she said. "Cuban people were so kind and open. Even though they didn't have much, they gave you all they had."
The señora who did our laundry works as a music sociologist with her husband and informed us that 80 percent of Cuban culture is comprised of music and dance. We tapped into this musically infatuated culture while taking different classes focusing on the tres (Cuban guitar), bongó and conga drums, contrabajo (double bass), piano and salsa.
One weekend, we journeyed to Matanzas, the province fifty miles east of Havana known as "la cuña de la rumba" (the cradle of rumba).
Riding on the same electric train once used to transport workers to chocolate giant Milton Hershey's sugar mill in the town of Hershey, we passed a now dilapidated mill that has remained untouched since revolutionary Camilo Cienfuegos took it over during the revolution.
English and music major Greg Croak was greatly influenced by the music he encountered in Matanzas.
"What we saw has many names, but the one I found to be the most accurate was Música de Campisino (Music of the Country)," he wrote of his experience.
"Once a major port for the slaves, Matanzas created and cultivated several types of Cuban music that remain today as uniquely Cuban, much the same way jazz and blues do in the United States. The highest level of cultural and musical identity that both the US and in Cuba have achieved emerged from the darkest chapters in their history. The displacement of Africans to various parts of the New World isolated them from their true African traditions. And depending on their level of existence here, they were forced to create new forms of musical tradition."
The many styles of Cuban music -- including son, chachachá, mambo, conga and rumba -- impacted each other and are rooted in the meshing of European (namely Spanish and French) influences with those of the West African Yoruba culture.
Cuban music illustrates the ethnic diversity of Cubans themselves and the harmony in which they live.
I miss going to the movies in Havana, an activity that will cost you a mere five cents. Riding to our favorite jazz cafés in old-fashioned Chevys and Fords for just under one dollar was another highlight.
We made a habit of frequenting Callejón de Hamel, home to what is arguably the world's best live rumba performance and a mini mecca of SanterÃa, the religion synching devotion to both Catholic saints and Yoruba deities known as orishas.
More than anything, I will miss the affectionate Cuban spirit embodied in citizens like Edgar, the train conductor we met on the way to Matanzas. Croak recalled the off-duty conductor from Santa Cruz (Cuba, not California), and his immediate infatuation with our being American, asking us about our favorite baseball players.
"In true Cuban form," Croak said, "he proceeded to sacrifice his entire day to help us out, effectively becoming our private tour guide."
As Croak remembers, "We were blessed with the magical Cuban grace that has shone its beautiful light on us more than a handful of times during our time here."
Contact Caroline Mooser at cmooser@scu.edu.