{"id":7889,"date":"2019-10-08T13:53:18","date_gmt":"2019-10-08T17:53:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.monmouth.edu\/magazine\/?p=7889"},"modified":"2021-04-23T15:04:13","modified_gmt":"2021-04-23T19:04:13","slug":"cuba-a-tropical-symphony","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.monmouth.edu\/magazine\/cuba-a-tropical-symphony\/","title":{"rendered":"Cuba: A Tropical Symphony"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"An<\/div>

Cuba: A Tropical Symphony<\/h1>
Sixty years after the revolution, Cuban voices tell their stories.<\/div>
By Priscilla C. Gac-Artigas, Ph.D.Illustrations by Dan Williams<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/header>\n\n\n\n

Upon my arrival at the\nJos\u00e9 Mart\u00ed International Airport, I was struck with a realization: Cuba lives\nand moves at a different pace; it vibrates with a singular rhythm. If you want\nto get a sense of the real Cuba, you have but to adapt to those tempos and\nembrace the flexibility, openness, and richness of the unexpected. And of\ncourse, you need to know how to listen. The country is a symphony of voices\nthat assault your senses at every level and in every context, but you must\nenter the concert with ears wide open so you can distinguish the different\ninstruments and intertwined melodies. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had been invited to Cuba to present my research on innovative ways of teaching literature, and so when I arrived in the island nation last June, the conference, VII Taller Internacional de la Ense\u00f1anza de las Disciplinas Human\u00edsticas: \u201cLas humanidades y la identidad cultural en el siglo XXI\u201d (Humanities and Cultural Identity in the 21st Century), was my first stop. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

There, the tongues of presenters from Cuba and around the world,\nas well as of those of the audience members, were unleashed, and voices of sundry\ncolors and textures jumped from the papers to the open space of the Am\u00e9ricas\nConvention Center. Some of them\u2014 sounding out the reactions\u2014whispered, while\nothers were more open to speaking out about the need for critical thinking, of\na more creative and disruptive approach to teaching literature and the\nhumanities. The worn-out voices of those who advocated for the status quo,\nthose who, fearing changes, sought shelter in past rhythms and melodies, could\nalso be heard. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But the overwhelming committed love for the word; for literature, culture, and education; and for the construction of people\u2019s cultural identities spread harmony through the symphony of voices. As a fellow researcher[1]<\/a> noted in her presentation on Cuban poet and statesman Jos\u00e9 Mart\u00ed, in Mart\u00ed, \u201cteaching and real education intertwine with the struggles for the improvement of the human race.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mart\u00ed\u2019s thoughts indeed represent the continuation of a humanist heritage that considers education as a basic human right, essential to progress and individual and political freedom; his voice could not be left out of a conference highlighting the importance of the humanities, education, and strategies on how to reach the goals of the adopted United Nations Global Education 2030 Agenda of \u201censuring inclusive and equitable quality education and promoting lifelong learning opportunities for all.\u201d Mart\u00ed\u2019s words would be foremost on my mind throughout my journey through Cuba. <\/p>\n\n\n

Voices Outside Academia<\/h2>\n\n\n

Besides being heard, Cuba\u2019s voices can also be seen. They scream\nfrom the wounded walls of ancient palaces and exclusive buildings in old\nHavana, which today is home to the poorest of the poor in Cuba\u2014those orphans of\nrelatives in foreign countries, hence without access to foreign money, or those\nwho left the countryside in search of better opportunities, sometimes three\ngenerations of families living in the same room. They scream, with dignity, for\nhelp, for the end of the suffering, for the right to dream of a better life and\nthe means to make it happen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The other buildings, the ones that have been renovated after the\nforeign investment was approved, serve as lodging for tourists who go to Cuba\nnot to get to know the people, but to witness \u201cthe end of a revolution\u201d; those\nbuildings utter a different discourse. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cuban voices spoke to us from the brilliant colors of the\nclassic postcard cars of the \u201950s, their drivers inviting you to take a trip\nback in time; from the old Havana; from the Vedado\u2014the modern part of the city,\nits central business district and most affluent part; from the Hotel Nacional,\nwhich in the mid-\u201940s hosted Lucky Luciano and other mobsters; from the Plaza\nde la Revoluci\u00f3n, or Revolution Square, where Fidel Castro used to address\nCubans and political rallies still take place; from John Lennon Park, which in\nthe \u201960s sheltered the voices of young Cubans who dared to dream with him of a\n\u201clife in peace,\u201d disobeying their government\u2019s prohibition on the Beatles\u2019\nmusic; and from the malec\u00f3n<\/em>, where Cubans of lesser means go to kill\nhot summer nights with families, or to fish, or to sell whatever they can to\nsurvive: cheap handicrafts, eggs, or raspados<\/em>, a kind of slush with\ntropical syrups. <\/p>\n\n\n

The People’s Voices<\/h2>\n\n\n

And while showing the landmarks, the chauffeurs\u2014sons or\ngrandsons of original revolutionaries\u2014add their notes to the symphony of\nvoices. While thanking the revolution for what it gave them\u2014free education and\nmedical coverage\u2014their voices become gloomy and sour recognizing that they earn\nmore as taxi drivers than as engineers, doctors, or lawyers. And they fear the effects\nof the embargo, and Donald Trump\u2019s latest measures prohibiting the entrance of\ncruise ships to Havana, which decimated the number of tourists visiting the\nisland, but also the internal embargo imposed by the restrictions of the Cuban\ngovernment. They love their country; they do not want to leave, but they dream\nof a better life for their children and for more freedom to make that happen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

At the impressive and breathtaking Revolution Square, a\nmandatory stop in any visit to Cuba, we were surrounded by voices coming from\nevery corner of history. Presiding, the Cuba of the Independence was embodied in\nthe monument of Cuban national hero, Jos\u00e9 Mart\u00ed. Facing Mart\u00ed, enclosing the\narea where people who make history stand for political rallies, images of\nrevolutionary heroes were embroidered with one of their idiosyncratic quotes:\nCamilo Cienfuegos with \u201cVas bien Fidel\u201d (\u201cYou are going down the right path,\nFidel\u201d) and el Che with \u201cHasta la victoria siempre\u201d (\u201cUntil victory always\u201d).\nTo the right was the remarkable National Library Jos\u00e9 Mart\u00ed, home to Cuba\u2019s\nand the world\u2019s literary and intellectual heritage, where they gladly accepted\ncopies of some of my books, a humble contribution. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The silent voices of Cubans absent from the Revolution Square,\nthe ones of the geologists, pharmacists, attorneys, and so many other\nprofessionals with diplomas from the Universidad de La Habana, could be heard\nacross the square. There, people waited at the bus station to tend to their\ndaily business as tenants, waiters or waitresses, managers, or even as owners\nof an apartment for rent or a paladar <\/em>(small restaurant) after Ra\u00fal\nCastro legally authorized the cuentapro- pistas <\/em>(self-employed workers\nor literally, \u201con your own-ists\u201d). Voices that, like the taxi drivers\u2019,\nexpressed their sweet and sour feelings for life in Cuba, their satisfactions\nand disappointments, their expectations and lack of hope. Voices interrogating\nCienfuegos: When did we lose the path? Which is the right path? <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

Arts and Literature<\/h2>\n\n\n

A couple of days before I arrived in Cuba, the national poet Nancy\nMorej\u00f3n, a longtime friend, was leaving for Ecuador, returning only on the\nlast day of the conference, the only day she could meet with me. I was torn\nbetween meeting with her or going to the discovery of a treasure. I opted for\nthe second, and do not regret it. After all, I can eventually meet with Nancy\nat any other professional meeting, but I will perhaps never have another\nopportunity to visit the premises of Ediciones Vig\u00eda, an independent\npublishing house located in Matanzas, Cuba. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ediciones Vig\u00eda specializes in handmade books. Its artisans use\ncollaged and repurposed materials such as recycled paper, buttons, yarn,\nfabric, dried leaves and flowers, and pebbles to put together a limited number\nof volumes\u2014a maximum of 200 copies of each title are published. Today, these\nbooks are part of the collections at New York\u2019s Museum of Modern Art and the\nBeaubourg in Paris, to name but two. These books of unique colors and textures\nmake us hear the voices of both Cuban and international authors. Inside\nEdiciones Vig\u00eda, Mart\u00ed\u2019s omnipresent voice was calling me, as it called me\nfrom the Jos\u00e9 Mart\u00ed International Airport, or the Jos\u00e9 Mart\u00ed Nation- al\nLibrary, or the Jos\u00e9 Mart\u00ed monument in Revolution Square, from the voices of\nthe balseros<\/em>, Cubans who lost their voices and their lives fleeing the\ncountry in search of a better life for their children. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I bought two bilingual books by Mart\u00ed, not only because he\nrepresents a paladin of humanism, freedom, social justice, and education as\nmeans to build a more humane society, but because he embodies many of the\nvoices of Cuba and Latin America, including a literary heritage that still\ninforms us. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the plane home, while pondering my experiences listening to\nthe Cuban voices, whether coming in words from the people or in screams from\nthe buildings, parks, and squares, I kept wondering: What will be the\nsubsequent movement of this ever-changing symphony? Where are all those voices\nheading to? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Priscilla C. Gac-Artigas, Ph.D., is a professor of Spanish and Latin American literature at Monmouth University, a Fulbright scholar, and a correspondent member of the Academia Norteamericana de la Lengua Espa\u00f1ola. Her attendance at the International Conference Human\u00edsticas in Varadero, Cuba, and her further research in Havana, was made possible in part through a Scholarship of Teaching and Learning mini-grant from Monmouth University\u2019s Center for Excellence in Teaching and Learning. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

Notes<\/h4>\n\n\n
  1. Lourdes D\u00edaz Dom\u00ednguez, professor of literature at
    the University of Matanzas.<\/li><\/ol>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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