In light of the United States’ apparent sea change in attitude towards the ‘axis of evil’ nations, and the notable absence of world record orator Fidel Castro, one might be forgiven some long overdue optimism in thinking that perhaps the iron curtain around Cuba may be lifting slightly. Whilst it may be true that ‘Gitmo’ may be closing its barbed-wire gates to the world’s orange boiler-suited malcontents, and Cubans may now be ‘allowed’ to use mobile phones, things, as they say, have a long way to go.
It should be remembered whilst reading that any article gesturing towards the political and historical events that have come to define Cuba should be prefigured with the knowledge that one is entering contested terrain. Though even the most seasoned of commentators find their ‘facts’ about Cuba shrouded in secrecy and engulfed in political hyperbole from both sides, it remains suffice to say that anything said about Cuba (including this piece) must be taken with a fairly hefty pinch of salt.
This, in part, is what I want to talk about. As a foreigner, the problem of unravelling the accuracies of the long standing stalemate between the Caribbean island and its goliath neighbour, and thus trying to see a way forward (post Castro/Bush) is compounded by the simplistic way in which it is addressed in the world outside Cuba’s borders. Whether it is the tyranny of the US in imposing a crippling trade embargo, or Cuba’s communist regime and their stubbornness and reluctance to change – the fact is that illegal emigration from Cuba has created a situation where more Cubans live outside Cuba than live in it.
We tend to hear about this problem in these simplistic terms, a situation not helped by the cultural products from Cuba with which we are familiar. The ‘Buena Vista Social Club’ for example, however enjoyable, don’t touch the subject of politics with a ten-foot barge pole – and why should they? With political censorship still strictly controlled, in order to gain any type of official sanction music that steers clear of controversy has become de rigueur. Obviously there are a number of examples of musicians in Cuba (and outside Cuba) who openly criticise the regime. The quite brilliant folk singer Pedro Luis Ferrer and the genuinely-anarchic-without-a-hint-of-pretence punk band ‘Porno Para Ricardo’ are two notable exceptions. Yet both ply their trade in a world that exists outside of ‘Cuba’ – the former relying on European tours, the latter constantly hounded by police. A popular and accurate assessment of the current political and social climate is a hard thing to come by. However, in the song ‘Añoranza por la Conga’ by the Santiago de Cuba based band ‘Sur Caribe’ one may find exactly that.
Musically, the song is pretty self-explanatory. The track is imbued with defiant nostalgia, coming from sweeping violins, stabbing brass and the constant, infection poly-rhythms of the conga, which are at once distinctly West African, yet uniquely and unmistakably Cuban. Oh, and the bizarre sounding instrument playing the cadenza at the start is the Chinese trumpet. Don’t ask, I don’t know why!
The song was a huge hit (!) in Cuba and documents the fortunes of the fictional yet all too recognisable ‘Micaela’. In the song, singer Ricardo Leyva tells, in matter-of-fact prose, of a woman who has fled the country in order to search for a new life. However, Isolated from the familiar (albeit detested) she realises that she is alienated by her new surroundings – forced by circumstance to live as a permanent outsider, yet unable (and probably unwilling) to return to her native Cuba. All of her nostalgia and longing manifest themselves in the symbolic element she misses most – dancing Conga.
Lyrically, the song is very interesting indeed. I did try translating, but really (as with all song lyrics, particularly when badly translated) the meaning and power are lost when taken out of context. What is so striking about these lyrics is the matter-of-fact way in which they discuss the taboo subject of emigration. People do just leave Cuba. Everybody knows someone who has left, and quite often when they do leave, they do so at great personal risk and expense. What this song demonstrates is an acceptance of this unhappy situation without condemnation or praise. What it does is discuss it with an understanding of the emotional complexities involved. Miami is not the promised land to be reached at all cost, yet this song recognise that the state of affairs in Cuba is such that many are left without a choice. Finally, the lyrics offer no solution, nor do they profess to know the answer. They give no advice other than ‘Oigan Santiaguero, sigan adelante’ – ‘Listen Santiaguero, keep going forward’ (Santiaguero being an inhabitant of Santiago de Cuba). ‘Añoranza por la Conga’ recognises the powerlessness of the average person caught in this self-styled David versus Goliath/ “Free World” versus the outpost of the old Evil Empire (depending on which side of the Straits of Florida you happen to be).
Añoranza por la Conga by Sur Caribe is on the album Credenciales (Egrem), check the band’s website for more info (http://www.surcaribe.com/musicredeng.htm).
TA
