Text: Martin Pei de la Paz
Photos: Brayan Collazo
English version; vease abajo para la version en espanol
**

Hurry, Havana is changing!

Two things come to mind for most people when they hear the word “Cuba”: old cars and the famous “camellos” (camel buses), the cargo trucks converted into public transportation.

But the end is near for both. With new agreements between the governments of China, countries of the EU, and Russia, Havana has signed the official death certificate for the old, dilapidated cars and buses of the past. The Cuban government is introducing a more modern fleet of buses (called “guaguas” here), which have better emissions standards, are less damaging to the roads, and which will be easier and more comfortable for people to use. These new buses have all the modern amenities lacking in the camellos: clock, radio, microphone to communicate stops to passengers, and other features that make the ride more fun and comfortable.

According to the government, these new buses will offer service with greater frequency and more efficiency than the old buses. During peak hours, buses will run every six minutes, and during regular hours, every nine minutes. In reality, though, the frequency seems to be considerably longer–about 15-20 minutes between buses.

Many people continue to call the new buses camellos, in spite of the changes, as many of the buses maintain the same route numbers, though the corresponding letter– M-for Metrobus, the official name of the camellos– has been replaced with a P.

Articulated buses have also been introduced– these are the buses that have the accordion-like fold in the middle, turning two buses into one. These cost around 40 cents in Cuban national money, the equivalent of about 5 US cents. These articulated buses run the major routes in the city of Havana.

In spite of the new changes, problems have been noted, such as the intentional lack of care of the new fleet, and the attempts of some riders to avoid paying for their rides. Other problems include receiving change in pesos instead of exact change. Finally, the average time it takes to complete a full route is 50-70 minutes.

Now, in Havana, you can see buses from China, Russia, Japan, and Germany rolling down the city’s streets and avenues. Along with the new buses, the government has introduced “rutero” taxis, or minibuses, that have a pre-determined route. These have been introduced in an effort to combat the “particulares” taxis, which are ad hoc taxis driven by independent drivers. The cost of the microbuses is higher– around $5 Cuban pesos for the same route it would cost 40 cents for on the regular bus, but they’re undoubtedly more comfortable and have fewer stops between Point A and Point B. Plus, they still cost less than the $10 Cuban pesos a driver of a particular would charge for the same route.

The camellos won’t disappear entirely though; they’re getting a second life after being transported to the interior of the island. This is obviously an interventionary measure to address the lack of public transportation in the interior of the island, outside the capital, and in the rest of the country’s provinces.

For many, these changes in the transportation system may seem hardly worth note, but they represent an enormous symbolic step when one considers that the Cuban economy has been in tatters for the past decades, particularly after the collapse of the Soviet Union. During this time, bicycles and mule drawn carts were the only alternative to deal with a massive transportation infrastructure disaster. Little by little, Cuba is beginning to benefit from the agreements with other countries.

But there are other changes as well.

With the opening and mutual support being established between Cuba and other countries, and with the election of Obama to the presidency of the United States, the winds of change signal a shift, one in favor of a peaceful dialogue between Havana and Washington, D.C. Such a dialogue could bring still more benefits to both countries, and more profound changes to Cuba. For more than 50 years, a politics of conflict has marked the relationship between the two countries, despite efforts of both to mend the rift, whether through open dialogue or secret operations. All of this came to light recently when the CIA declassified documents about its operations in and about Cuba. Declassified NSA documents, government memoranda, and intelligence reports also provide a window into this subject.

The negotiations with Havana won’t be as easy as some people think. The concerns affecting both nations are marked by a lack of confidence and mutual suspicion. Each side has its doubts. Perhaps the easiest issues to be addressed will be those related to immigration and drug trafficking.

The cards of the big game, though, will involve the repatriation or extradition of fugitives, the issue of Guantanamo Bay, compensation for property of Cubans and US businesses seized during the Revolution, and, equally pressing, the release of the five Cuban security agents from US prisons.

Washington and Havana have danced to different rhythms for a long time. Each side knows its steps perfectly. We have learned that there’s no difficulty that lasts 1,000 years. The enemies of the past now share common borders in Europe—Poland, Germany, and France—and the United States and Russia participate in joint operations. Enemies now work together as allies, indicating that enemies don’t have to stay foes forever.

**
Texto por: Martin Pei de la Paz
Fotos por: Brayan Collazo
*

Apurate, que La Habana esta cambiando!

Para muchos cuando le dices “Cuba” le viene a la mente dos cosas: los carros de los tiempos pre-revolucionarios y los famosos camellos, los camiones de carga convertidos en transporte publico.

Pero el fin ya se acerca para ambos. Con los nuevos tratados de cooperacion entre los gobiernos de China, la Union Europea, y Rusia, La Habana ha firmado el “certificado oficial de muerte” para los dilapilados carros del pasado. El gobierno cubano esta introduciendo una reciente flotilla de omnibuses o guaguas (como alli les llaman), que seran los encargados de reducir la contaminacion ambiental y prevenir la futura deterioracion de sus calles y avenidas, haciendo la vida mas facil para sus habitantes. Estos nuevos omnibuses cuentan con reloj, radio, reproductora de musica, microfonos de intercomunicacion chofer/pasajeros, entre otras comodidades que hacen el viaje mas divertido y comodo.

Segun el gobierno, estos nuevos vehiculos ofreceran servicios con mayor frecuencia y con mas eficiencia que en el pasado. Ellos estipulan que en las horas picos estos se demorarian unos 6 minutos y en horas regular o normal 9 minutos entre uno y otro. Sin embargo, la realidad no es asi, estos vienen con una frecuencia de 15 a 20 minutos entre uno y otros.

Muchas personas siguen llamandoles camellos en ocaciones, apesar de los cambios, ya que muchos mantienen el mismo numero aunque sus letras han cambiado de M-6 (la letra M para metrobuses que era el nombre oficial del camello) que ahora es P-6 para los nuevos omnibus que recorren la misma ruta.

Las articuladas como se les llaman tambien a los omnibus dobles en forman de acordion cuestan alrededor de $0.40 centavos Cubanos o un equivalente cercano a $0.05 U.S. Estas cubren las mayores rutas en la ciudad de La Habana.

Con los nuevos cambios tambien llegan nuevos problemas como la deterioracion intencionada o falta de cuidado de estos nuevos omnibuses, y la falla de algunos consumidores en abonar el costo completo del servicio, o el hecho de no recibir el cambio si se paga con pesos en vez de cambio exacto. El average de tiempo recorrido por esto omnibus es de 50 a 70 minutos.

En estos momentos se pueden ver en La Habana omnibuses de China, Rusia, Japon, y Alemania (Mercedes Benz) recorriendo sus calles y avenidas. Conjuntamente con estos servicios se han incorporado los taxis ruteros o micro buses que tienen una ruta pre-determinada, todo esto en un esfuerzo para contrarestar los taxis particulares, los taxis independientes. Estos taxis ruteros son mas pequenos y modernos que los omnibus nuevos introducidos. A estos no se le permite llevar personas de pie. Su costo es mas elevado, unos $5.00 pesos Cubanos por la misma ruta que podrias viajar a un costo de $0.40 centavos en una transportacion regular, pero mucho menos si consideras que esa misma ruta en un particular te podria costar unos $10.00 en moneda nacional. Indudablemente, los ruteros son mas comodos y con menos paradas entre un punto y otro.

Los camellos tendran una segunda vida. Estos han sido transplantados al interior de la isla. Esto es obviamente una medida de necesidad hasta que la isla completa pueda disfrutar de un servicio uniforme para toda la poblacion dentro y fuera de la capital y en las demas provincias del pais.

Aparentemente para muchos los cambios en el sistema de transporte son pequenos, pero para otros estos simbolizan un paso economico enorme si se tiene en cuenta que la economia cubana estaba grave o mejor dicho en el cementerio durante gran parte de los anos 90 despues de la desintegracion de la Union Sovietica, donde los coches tirados por bestias y las bicicletas eran una alternativa logica para aliviar sus problemas, tanto en la capital como en el campo. Cuba se esta beneficiando poco a poco de los convenios ya establecidos con paises como China, Rusia, y la comunidad Europea, no solo sobre el transporte, pero tambien sobre otros temas.

Con la apertura y el apoyo mutuo entre Cuba y estos otros paises, y con la eleccion de Obama a la presidencia de los Estados Unidos, las corrientes son favorables a favor de un dialogo de paz entre La Habana y Washington. Este dialogo podria traer aun mas beneficios para ambos paises y cambios mas profundos para Cuba y su vecino del norte. Por mas de 50 anos se ha mantenido una politica de desconfianza de ambas partes, aunque en casi todas las administraciones se ha hecho un intento ya sea esta de forma abierta o de manera secretas, todos estos intentos fueron un esfuerzo de establecer un “modus vivendo” entre naciones. Todo esto salio a la luz en la evidencias obtenida atraves de los recientes documentos desclasificados de la CIA, NSA, memorandos del gobierno, e otros reportes de inteligencia.

Las negociaciones con La Habana no serian tan faciles como algunos piensan. Los temas que tratan sobre la Habana y Washington se miran con desconfianza y sospechas. No hay con relacion a Cuba una sola voz que se considere confiable, todas tienen sus dudas. Quizas los temas mas simples de tratar serian los temas de la inmigracion y el trafico de drogas que ya se han dado pasos en el pasado en torno a esto. Las cartas de juego mayor estan en la expatriacion de fugitivos, elementos buscados por terrorismo, Guantanamo, compensacion de las propiedades confiscadas al triunfo de la revolucion y el mas reciente tema, la liberacion de los 5 agentes de la seguridad cubana todavia en carceles norteamericana.

Washington y La Habana han bailado a ritmos diferentes por mucho tiempo, los bailadores se conocen los pasos, giros y movimiento a la perfeccion. Hemos aprendido que no hay mal que dure mil ano ni cuerpo que lo resista. Los enemigos del pasado hoy comparten fronteras comun en Europa: Polonia, Alemania, Francia. Estados Unidos y Rusia participan en operaciones conjuntas. Todo parece indicar que estos son enemigos “temporarios” y no eternos. Naciones que han pasado por etapas oscuras y dolorosas. Cuba es tambien parte de esta historia y no una excepcion de esta regla.

Text & Photos: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Dragon/License Plate Photo: Brayan Collazo

*
I’m not a regular reader of fiction. I find real life far too interesting.

But it was my interest in real life—specifically, my own work interviewing Chinese Cubans in Havana that began in 2008—that led me to Daina Chaviano’s novel, The Island of Eternal Love, translated into English by Andrea G. Labinger and published by Penguin’s imprint, Riverhead Books, in 2008.

The novel isn’t specifically about Chinese Cubans. In fact, it’s about what Chaviano refers to as “the three origins…of the Cuban nation” (Spanish, African, and Chinese). But it may just be the first novel published in English that includes the Chinese Cuban community in Havana as one of its principal subjects.

Though the rest of the world is largely unaware of the fact, Chinese immigrants began arriving in Cuba’s capital and main port city by the thousands in the 1840s, lured by promises of work and financial stability, which were lacking at home. (Francisco’s maternal and paternal grandparents were among the Chinese immigrants). Today, there are more than 10,000 living descendants of these immigrants on the island, Jorge Chao, secretary of the Casino Chung Wah, a social club for Chinese Cubans in Havana’s Chinatown, told me when I interviewed him last May.

Chao talked about the hardships Chinese immigrants faced, and these are rendered accurately in Chaviano’s novel—the decision to change Chinese names to Spanish names to gain acceptability in Cuban society; the difficulty of integrating into a culture whose sounds, sights and tastes were frustratingly foreign; the social isolation young Chinese immigrants experienced in schools; and the self-imposed isolation the Chinese Cubans experienced when they clustered in cultural enclaves intended to foster mutual aid and maintain traditions.

For the reader unfamiliar with Cuban history and culture, these details are likely to come as interesting surprises. Chaviano peppers the novel with historically correct details that are also wonderfully evocative—the smell of steaming pork buns and fish soup, the symbolism of the Chinese lottery—still played in Cuba today–, and the inclusion of Cuban sayings that reveal how Chinese Cubans were both integrated into and isolated from the dominant culture.

Despite Chaviano’s firm grasp of Chinese Cuban history and culture, the novel can be difficult to follow. The author introduces more than two dozen characters, located in or evoking four countries and one continent (Spain, Cuba, China, the US, and Africa), all spanning several generations. Even the most interested reader may have a hard time keeping track, but for the reader lacking any point of reference about Cuban history, I wonder if the novel may feel more onerous to read than pleasurable.

There’s also the issue of the writing. The Island of Eternal Love is really about the main character, Cecilia, a Cuban American journalist living in Miami who is desperate to understand herself, her history, and the mystery of a ghost house that appears and disappears in various locations in south Florida. Cecilia becomes interested in new agey mysticism as a means of resolving these tensions, and the novel begins to feel weighted with clichés about crystals, auras, and women who see or intuit things about others that remain obscure to the person affected. The effort, it seems, is to evoke a sense of the mysterious that does—as any visitor to Cuba can attest– seem to shroud the island and Havana in particular. But the metaphor feels too obvious, too forced. Unfortunately, there are many instances of these all too obvious “as if by magic” narrative devices. Perhaps they read more convincingly in the original Spanish, but they often seem silly in the English translation.

Still, the book is a worthwhile read, especially for those with an interest in and basic knowledge of Cuba. It may be most appropriate for Cuban Americans, many of whom are likely to recognize the complexity of their own experiences and emotions in Cecilia’s character. For other readers, sticking around for the ending may be a challenge, but if you can forgive the occasionally affected language, The Island of Eternal Love is an engaging and worthwhile read, a fictional account that brings some fascinating and overlooked aspects of Cuban history to life.

Text & Photos: Julie Schwietert Collazo

There’s a reason I wasn’t born Brazilian, I realized last night in my sleep and food-deprived delirium:

I simply do not have the constitution to spend six days partying frenetically without stopping.

Hard-core Carnaval goers (read: Brazilians) would likely scoff that I haven’t had the “true” Carnaval experience, and they’re right. I’m not on the street at 10 AM, dancing non-stop until 4 AM. I just don’t have what it takes.

While “Carnaval lite” is pushing me to my limits, I can’t imagine what it would be like to perform in Carnaval.

Singers and dancers who give it their all atop moving platforms 20 feet above the street for hours on end amaze me. I’d be good for about 30 minutes… then I’d throw the microphone down, pull the platform heels off, collapse in a sweating heap, and declare myself spent.

There are so many other observations to make regarding Carnaval– and I’ll get to them… after I’ve recovered from a week of Carnaval in Recife and Salvador, Brazil.

Text: Francisco Collazo
[vease abajo para la version en espanol]

Photo: Mikelo

I remember that when I arrived in the United States, the first thing I missed was my music.

I remember vividly that all the Latin music I heard around me sounded old, out of style, different, and strange. I felt no connection with it, including the genre called salsa. It was 1980, I was young, and my sense of sound had been established by all those rhythms I’d heard, danced to, and left behind in Havana.

Photo: Rosino

The slow songs people listened to here seemed to be of my mother’s era, or even of my grandparents’ epoch. My generation grew up with music that was a little different from what the rest of the world was listening to at the time. The love songs were songs for an intelligent nation whose promise had been dashed time and again. They were songs that asked a lot of questions… about everything. It was as if songs were coming out of trenches during battle, floating out over a common ground.

Photo: hoyasmeg

I remember that while I danced, I wanted all those things–those preoccupations–to go away, to disappear, to finally have a resolution. I danced for life, as we all did; I’d like to think that every step is imprinted on the tiles of the dance stages of my Havana.

Outside of Cuba, I didn’t know how to dance, but I also didn’t know how not to. I had to learn how to dance again, as well as retrain my musical ear. Physically and emotionally I felt like a fish out of water.

Perhaps the Cubans who’d arrived before me didn’t suffer this sense of separation. The music of their era came with them; they listened to it on the radio and on TV programs. In fact, it was the music that filled all the dance halls from Miami to New York.

I was jealous and confused by this collision of the familiar and the strange, of these songs, which had been sung so often before by Cuban artists or other artists I hadn’t even known existed: La Lupe, Bienvenido Granda, Frankie Ruiz, Cano Estremera, Willie Chirino, Justo Betancourt, Sonora Poncena, Roberto Who?… Roberto Torres… all of them singing, inspired by Cuban music. The Cuban sound was there.

Havana danced–and still does–to a different beat, a style that’s clandestine, that’s for “exclusive national use,” all to the beats of groups like Conjunto Latino, Los Reyes 73, La Orquesta Monumental, Los Van Van of Juan Formell, and, more recently, to Bamboleo, La Charanga Habanera, NG la Banda, El Medico de la Salsa, and others.

If you visit Havana as a tourist, you’ll hear the music of Compay Segundo, Los Compadres, and Bola de Nieve, all sung by local artists for the pleasure of tourists. From these songs and rhythms, other styles are nurtured, becoming songs that circle the world again and again with their contagious melody, and marked by their undeniable Cubanness: Bebo Valdes y Cigala, Francisco Cespedes, and Oscar D’ Leon, among others, but it’s a music for exportation, for cabaret.

“Necessity is the mother of invention.” -Proverb

According to the experts, Cuban music of the 1970s was in crisis, due to the flight of composers and the absence of groups that sang and danced to the rhythm of the Revolution. Many new groups and sounds were born during this time out of necessity. Never before had there been such musical emphasis on the country man, work, and on education as there was in those years. The “New Song” appeared, nurturing itself from those sounds of the past, looking for its roots. This is how “Nueva Trova” was born, and like dust it blew across Latin America and Africa, which was burning with revolution: Nicaragua, El Salvador, Argentina, Chile, Colombia, Angola, Congo, and Cuba. Cuban songs were sung in all these places.

My “son”…where is it? Where has it gone? My worry is that it is–and that all of our sounds have been–politicized in a way, with each camp trying to claim the sounds as its own. But Batista didn’t invent it, nor did Fidel; these sounds have been with us for hundreds of years. These are songs written by the people, born out of their realities, some to tell history as it was, and some to talk about current conditions.

Soft Sounds

Twenty years later, the reality is different. The music of the past is rescued, turned again into international hits. Pablo Milanes re-records the love songs of the past, with a feeling and sound that are fresh.

This second era of my “son” is being proudly reborn, a fact reaffirmed by its worldwide popularity. It sings of love, of war, of the future, of past achievements, and hopes for what’s to come. It is truly a music for everyone. Artists of different nationalities are taking on these songs and sounds as their own, artists like Luis Miguel, Cesaria Evora, Mark Anthony, Oscar D’Leon, Polo Montanez, and Candela, to name just a few.

My “son” can be heard in the rhythm of bachata music from the Dominican Republic, from Colombia’s cumbia music, and in Mexico’s “Norteno” music.

Everyone’s dancing to “son.” Tribute is being given to Compay Segundo, who won a Grammy in his 80s, to Bebo and Cigala, who won a Grammy for their interpretation of “Lagrimas Negras.” Andy Montanez and Gilberto Santa Rosa include “son” in their repertoire. The Israeli flutist Eti Abramovitz interprets the Cuban danzon in an exquisite rendition. After 28 years abroad, my ear can finally hear the universality in all those lost rhythms of old. This is the “son”- not just of Havana, but of the world, sung with passion and melancholy, stirring the hearts and moving the feet of dancers.

Photo: ChrisGoldNY

Son and all of the elements of Cuban music haven’t died. They didn’t get stuck in past generations with Compay Segundo, Eliades Ochoa, and the others. They’re reincorporated in a new generation, this time coming to us through Camerata Romeu, with a mix of rhythms from different continents and with compositions arranged by a diverse group of composers.

Many generations will pass. Many changes will occur–here and there–but my “son” will remain, offering the opportunity to transform sadness into happiness, defeat into victory, and to bring us back together to celebrate what belongs to all of us, that which has a soul but has no borders.

[Version en espanol]

Photo: mickou

Recuerdo que cuando arrive por primera vez a los Estados Unidos, lo primero que extrane fue mi musica.

Recuerdo vivamente que toda esa musica latina que escuchaba a mi alrededor me sonaba vieja, fuera de estilo, diferente y extrana. No sentia conexion con ella, e inclusive con lo que aqui se le llama salsa. Era 1980, era joven, y en mi sentido de sonoridad estaban los ritmos que yo habia escuchado, bailado, y dejado en La Habana, Cuba.

Photo: Hector Alejandro

Los boleros que aqui escuchaban pertenecian quizas a la epoca de mi madre o mis abuelos. Mi generacion crecio con una musica un poco diferente a lo que el resto del mundo escuchaba entonces. Las canciones de amor eran los cantos a una nacion inteligente que sus promesas les habian sido rotas una y otra vez, no llevaban dudas, eran poemas cantados que preguntaban muchas cosas y todas las cosas. Era como cantar desde diferentes trincheras dentro de una batalla y un terreno comun.

Recuerdo que mientras bailaba deseaba que todas esas cosas se fueran lejos, desaparecieran, tuvieran una respuesta. Bailaba con la vida y de esa manera bailabamos todos juntos; pense que esos pasos se quedaron en las lozas y en las tarimas de baile de mi Habana, en contra de toda mi voluntad.

Fuera de Cuba no sabia que bailaba o que dejaba de bailar. Para mi fue como aprender de nuevo a bailar y a entrenar mi oido musical. Fisica y emocionalmente me sentia como un pez fuera del agua.

Los cubanos que habian llegados en decadas anteriores quizas no sufrieron esta separacion. La musica de su epoca me pude dar cuenta que se vino con ellos. Se escuchaba en la radio, en los programas de television; de hecho era la musica que llenaba los salones de bailes desde Miami hasta Nueva York. Los latinos en su mayoria tarareaban canciones completas que se le metian por dentro como hormigas bravas, dandole esa picazon contagiosa que recuerdo yo habia dejado parte en La Habana.

Celoso y perplejo por lo familiar y extrano a la vez. Estas canciones, cantadas muchas veces por artistas cubanos y otras por artistas que ni siquiera estaban en mi radar o sabia que existian: La Lupe, Bienvenido Granda, Frankie Ruiz, Cano Estremera, Willie Chirino, Justo Betancourt, Sonora Poncena, Roberto quien? Roberto Torres. Todo esto me parecia una real pesadilla. Todos y cada uno de ellos se inspiraban en la musica cubana. El son estaba presente.

La Habana bailaba y baila a un ritmo diferente. Bailabamos un producto clandestino y para “uso nacional y exclusivo”: Conjunto Latino, Los Reyes 73, La Orquesta Monumental, Los Van Van de Juan Formell, y mas reciente, Bamboleo, La Charanga Habanera, NG la Banda, El Medico de la Salsa y otros.

Si llegas hoy de turista a La Habana, oiras musica de Compay Segundo, Los Compadres, Bola de Nieve, interpretada por artistas locales para el disfrute de los visitantes. De hecho, de estas musicas y ritmos se nutren otros que las convierten en temas internacionales que le dan la vuelta al mundo una y otra vez, melodias contagiosas y cargada de cubanidad: Bebo Valdes y Cigala, Francisco Cespedes, Oscar D’ Leon, entre otros, pero esa musica es para exportacion y para noches de cabaret.

“Necesidad hace genio” -Proverbio comun

La musica cubana de los 70s estaba en crisis segun los expertos. La fuga de compositores y la ausencia de grupos que cantaran y bailaran al ritmo de la revolucion cubana estaban todavia en su infancia y otras veces ausentes de la realidad existente. Muchos de estos grupos y sones nacen de esta necesidad. Nunca antes se le habia cantado con tanto enfasis al campesino, al trabajo, y a la educacion como en estos anos. La Nueva Cancion aparece, nutriendose de los sones de antano, buscando sus raices en los trovadores libres. Asi “La Nueva Trova” nace y como polvora viaja a la America Latina y Africa que esta ardiendo con revoluciones: Nicaragua, El Salvador, Argentina, Chile, Colombia, Angola, Congo, y Cuba le canta a todos estos, llevando y extrayendo formas nueva de decir las cosas.

Mi son… donde esta? Ha donde ha ido? Mi preocupacion es y ha sido que todos nuestros ritmos se habian politizado de una manera u otra y ambas fronteras reclamaban la popularidad y bailadores. No los habian inventado Batista ni Fidel; ellos han estado con nosotros por cientos de anos. Estas son canciones escritas por el pueblo, nacidas de una realidad existente donde unos les cantan para mantenerlo como fue y otros para decir cosas nuevas. Lo Afro-Cubano es la piedra principal para la construccion de este, no importa en el lado que lo mires. Estoy desnudo antes esta realidad. Necesito mi son!

El Son Suavecito

Veinte anos mas tarde esta realidad es diferente. Con los exitos internacionales de las canciones de antano la musica da una vuelta y se esfuerza en rescatar lo perdido. Pablo Milanes graba los boleros del pasado con un sentimiento y sonoridad diferente.

Photo: Lauras512

La segunda etapa de mi son esta naciendo orgullosa, se reafirma para su conquista universal. Este se recicla una y otra vez con una voz nueva, muy familiar en sus ritmos y melodias para los jovenes y viejos. Este le canto al amor, nos habla de la guerra, del futuro, de las glorias y de las esperanzas. Ahora si ya es de todos. Se unen o se nutren de esta nueva corriente del renacimiento artistas de diferentes nacionalidades como Luis Miguel, Cesaria Evora, Mark Anthony, Oscar D’Leon, Polo Montanez, y Candela.

Mi son se canta a ritmo de bachatas de Republica Dominicana, en cumbias Colombianas y a ritmos Nortenos de Mexico. En cada uno de estos ritmos esta presente mi musica con diferentes generos y melodias, mi son de Cuba.

Photo: Francisco Collazo

Todos bailan el son. Le dan tributo a Compay Segundo, ganador de un Grammy a los 80 anos, a Bebo y Cigala ganando un Grammy con su “Lagrimas Negras.” Andy Montanez y Gilberto Santa Rosa los incluyen en sus repertorios. En Israel la flautista Eti Abramovitz lo interpreta a ritmo de danzon de una manera exquisita, y ya lo bailo al ritmo de todos, en cumbias, bachatas, boleros y danzones de una manera muy familiar. Despues de 28 anos en el exterior mi oido se entona a la universalidad de estos ritmos perdidos de antanos.

Este es el son, no solo de La Habana, sino el son de todo que con infinita pasion y melancolia llena los corazones y mueve los pies de los bailadores.

El son y todos los elementos de la musica cubana no ha muerto, no se detuvo en las generaciones pasadas en Compay Segundo, Eliades Ochoa y los demas. Este se incorpora en la nueva generacion; esta vez nos llega a traves de la Camerata Romeu con una mezcla de ritmos de otros continentes y con arreglos de composiciones de una inmensa diversidad de compositores.

Pasaran muchas generaciones, vendran muchos cambios aqui y alla, pero mi son estara alli para brindarles a muchos la oportunidad de convertir los momentos de tristeza en alegria, las derrotas en victorias, y traernos de nuevo a tierra firme para celebrar que este es de todos, que tiene alma y no tiene fronteras.

Text & Photos: Julie Schwietert Collazo

A few weeks before I arrived in Brazil, Francisco and I watched a fantastic short documentary, “The Obama Samba*.”

From the synopsis of the documentary:

“At least eight candidates across [Brazil] have chosen to identify themselves with the U.S. presidential hopeful. Using names that sound like welterweight champions, there is the “Brazilian Obama,” and the “Obama of the Savannah.” Outside of Rio, in the region known as the Baixada, or “Lowlands,” there is Claudio Henrique, also known as the ‘Obama of the Baixada.’

Hoping to become the first black mayor of his hometown of Belford Roxo, Henrique sees the senator from Illinois as an inspiration, who has been able to break boundaries and overcome obstacles — many of which stand in Henrique’s way.”

I won’t ruin the fascinating story by telling you how it ends– you’ve got to see it yourself.

What I will say is that I can now confirm first-hand just how profound an impression President Obama has made on many Brazilians.

There are some, like artist Francisco Brennand, who display their political admiration proudly even though they couldn’t vote for Obama.

This banner hangs on the old ceramic factory Brennand bought in 1971 and which now serves as a repository and museum for the vast collection of his own ceramics. I took the photo today while visiting with Brennand.

And then there are entrepreneurs who see the value of Brand Obama… this is the second bar I’ve seen sporting a new name. Formerly “Bar Brahma” (named after one of Brazil’s beers), Brazilians can now down a cold one at “BARack OBrAhMA.”

*(the producer of “The Obama Samba” also co-produced the compelling documentary “The Judge and the General,” which is a must-see for anyone interested in Chilean history, human rights, and social justice.)