In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Epilogue: Remembering Manolín Since my last visit, the buildings had endured three more years of rain, wind, sun, and the strain of life, and the people were stretched thin. I realized the seriousness of the promise/prophecy of the Cuban Revolution and redemption. It was as if the place is being ground down almost to dust. Nothing but spirit remains. Life goes on. The drum speaks, babies are born, quinceñeras, velorios, la pincha, la rumba, la novela all continue . Cubans are incredibly resilient and patient. Some say “Cuba no cambia” (Cuba doesn’t change), but things do shift. The major debate in Cuba while I was there in 2006 was about the future of the country without Fidel. The phrase “eternal comandante de la revolución” struck me because it says that Fidel will be present always through his ideas and the system he has set in place, even when he is physically no more. Most people were shocked when he turned over power to his brother, and they seemed genuinely afraid of what will happen when Fidel dies. Some conjectured about whether he was already gone. Some celebrated in the exclusive areas of Havana with champagne and cell phone calls to Miami. “Estamos en tiempos de cuento,” they said. These are storybook times. Most agreed that things would de‹nitely not get out of control, que estaba todo pensao, especially with iron-‹sted Raúl at the helm. There would be no all-out chaos. There were more guardias throughout Havana. Whereas before a single of‹cer may have stood at the crossroads of 23 and L Streets, now each of the four corners was manned with multiple guards. Army reserves were activated to defend Cuba in the event of a U.S. attack. Fidel was mostly absent from the television screen but omnipresent in the street on posters, banners, book covers, and billboards. “Vamos bien” (We’re ‹ne) was one billboard I remember. The image of an old but 159 vital Fidel proclaimed his eternal presence, in spite of physical frailty and even beyond death. What did come on television was footage from the various rallies held throughout the island to show support for Fidel and wish him a speedy recovery, as well as to demonstrate strong patriotism and commitment to continuing the revolution no matter what, with or without Fidel. The people spoke passionately (even if scriptedly) about how el pueblo cubano has learned its lessons well and is prepared to carry on. Federations, unions, and individuals are ready to ful‹ll their responsibilities to the patria. A rumbero from Santiago de Cuba, a member of the group Yoruba Andabo, sang, “Yo soy hijo de Fidel, yo cumplo con mi deber”—I’m a son of Fidel, I ful‹ll my responsibility. In the Santería community there were many more babalawos (priests of Orula, the divination deity) than I’d ever noticed before. Often there were more of them than santeros (priests of other orishas) at toques. I heard people say that since they were a source of income, initiations into Ifá, Santería, and the sacred batá drum tradition of Añá were becoming less exclusive and more common. Some said it doesn’t cost as much as it used to: “Qualquiera con quatro pesos (anyone with a little money) can become a babalawo.” Initiations bring material and economic, as well as spiritual well-being, so initiators are not turning folks away. I saw iyanifá (women priestesses of Ifá) for the ‹rst time in Cuba. Many, especially young people, seemed to be making ocha para especular. In the mid- to late 1990s, Manolín traveled the world electrifying dance ›oors with his timbero style, while remaining based in Havana. His stint living and performing in the United States inspired the song “Ya tengo amigos en Miami” (I already have friends in Miami) on his 1997 disc De buena fe (In Good Faith). This song did not sit well with Cuban of‹cials in the context of hostile U.S./Cuba relations, though fans on the island were not opposed to it. After remaining for a time in the United States he returned to Cuba and attempted to make things work there, but he was not successful. As a result of his ‹rst visit to Miami he was censured on Cuban radio. He says that the Cuban government was “unable to understand [his] position” and even told him that he would have to stop performing...

Share