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8. Santeria Commerce and the Unofficial Networks of Interpersonal Internationalism
- University Press of Florida
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8 Santeria Commerce and the Unofficial Networks of Interpersonal Internationalism Kevin M. Delgado In 2000, I spent four months in the Cuban city of Matanzas studying sacred Afro-Cuban drumming with legendary musician Cha-Chá (Esteban Vega Bacallao , 1925–2007). As the owner of prestigious drums sacred to the Santeria religion, Cha-Chá regularly employed several men of varying ages who were ritually “sworn” to his drums. The youngest of these men were in their twenties , and they often served as assistants during my drum lessons. In February one of these young assistant drummers, Alejandro, frequently left our lessons early to visit his sick mother, Cha-Chá’s niece. Alejandro’s mother was hospitalized due to a circulation problem and subsequent infection in her leg, and for many days he reported either no progress in her condition or minor changes for the worse. At times he expressed concern that his mother would have her leg amputated or perhaps even die. One day, when we were alone, with some embarrassment Alejandro asked me if I had any antibiotics he could take to his mother. For whatever reasons, Alejandro’s mother’s doctors knew she needed antibiotics but could not provide the drugs given low supplies in the hospital. Dismayed, I told Alejandro I had none, but as we spoke I remembered that I did have a small tube of a common topical three-in-one antibiotic ointment (part of an almost forgotten first aid kit my mother had insisted I bring with me). I mentioned the ointment to Alejandro, explaining that it was topical, to be used externally on the skin. Alejandro thought that it might still be of help, if only for use to barter for something more appropriate. He gratefully accepted the small tube, and I was left feeling saddened that I could not do more. When I saw him a couple of days later, Alejandro was beaming. He reported that he had given his mother’s doctor my ointment and they had injected it into her leg, causing immediate improvement and a steady recovery. I was happy but puzzled. Injected a topical ointment? Surely he must have been mistaken. Santeria Commerce and the Unofficial Networks of Interpersonal Internationalism 145 No, he insisted, they had indeed injected it into her leg. He imitated the action of a syringe with his fingers for emphasis. Alejandro thanked me warmly. I was happy to have helped, but inwardly I reeled at the possibility that this over-thecounter , two-dollar tube of ointment I had packed as an afterthought might have saved a woman’s leg. This incident was certainly peripheral to my research, one of countless anecdotes of deprivation and invention that are now common tropes in ethnographic accounts of post-Soviet Cuba. Putting aside the question of exactly what medical treatment Alejandro’s mother received, what interests me here is not the adaptive nature of the medical care but rather Alejandro’s use of the Santeria religion as a location of exchange between foreigners and Cubans. Caused by the withdrawal of Soviet financial support, the Cuban government’s Special Period in Time of Peace ushered in an era of austerity and uncertainty. As Cubans struggled to resolve problems caused by shortages through means both legal and illegal, the ubiquitous circulation of American dollars in an underground economy forced the government to legalize their use in 1993. Two decades later, foreign currency is still the most efficient means by which to resolve problems in Cuba. Had Alejandro been one of many Cubans to receive remittances from supportive family members living abroad, most likely he could have purchased the necessary medicine himself through the purchasing power of foreign-equivalent Cuban currency. With neither remittances nor contact with the relatively low level of tourism in urban Matanzas, Alejandro was nonetheless able to tap into a source of foreign currency and goods through his affiliation with Cha-Chá, who regularly received international visitors seeking his knowledge and liturgical expertise. My own visits had begun in 1996, but cultural experts such as Cha-Chá occasionally received foreign visitors during the 1980s and earlier. Such visits grew exponentially during the 1990s as Cuba’s post-Soviet economic crisis forced an opening of Cuban society to large-scale tourism and foreign investment. I was one of many visitors who arrived at the doorsteps of Cha-Chá and other master drummers not arbitrarily but through unofficial transnational networks based upon personal contacts, ritual associations, and religious expertise. As a...