Tanya Quintero, a light-skinned mulatta and prominent independent journalist in Havana, said she was not aware of racial discrimination until she had a daughter with darker skin the than she. Suddenly, some of her friends referred to her child with a Spanish phrase that literally translates as "sour or dark stomach" but figuratively is slang for "a child who comes out darker than her mother," she said. Lighter-skinned children later made fun of her daughter for being a "marron," brown. Also the millions of dollars in "remittances" that Cubans in the United States and elsewhere send their relatives back on the island very year reach few "black" Cubans because more than 90 percent of the exiles are "white." As a result, the long-standing economic gap between darker and lighter Cubans widens. I use quotation marks around "black" and "white" because the terms don't mean the same as they do in the United States, with our traditional "one-drop rule." Race in Cuba, as in the rest of Latin America, is somewhat fluid: You are pretty much what you say you are, even within the same family.
The term, "To run a boat," originated in the Caribbean. A group of boys or grown men would trump up whatever they had, little flour, bully beef, corn, cassava for bammy, salt pork, sugar, lime and water. Each person would bring one item and the firewood or stove would be lit. The resulting cornucopia would be most pleasing and satisfying, both to the palate and the gullet. The success would be measured by the hearty belches and the question, "So when we going to run the next boat?" Very much like the camel and its' hump. "Lord, Miss Gwen, de baby need to fatten up; mek sure him eat four bowl of porridge every day, plus two quart of milk, plus four boil eggs. Remember, a fat baby is a healthy baby." No function succeeds without plenty food, and in fact the measure of its status and success is the abundance of food that is served. Not even the dearly departed is spared. Nine days after a person dies, a wake or "nine night" is held. Just another excuse to wolf down the family's food. Other cultures burry the corpse within 24 hours, but not us, who choose to keep it until enough food can be bought to feed the ravaging hordes that are expecting to descend on the premises.
AFRICANDO Arts and Culture Festival, a collaboration between the Foundation for Democracy in Africa and Miami-Dade County, is a one-day event that will feature contemporary African, Afro-American, Caribbean & Afro-Latino cultures. MDCC and the Black Heritage Museum will display masks, statues and murals from the Caribbean, South America, Brazil and Cuba. A special "Children's Activities Village" will feature traditional African and Caribbean folk tales, puppet shows, African mask and instrument making, African textile weaving, Miami Metrozoo's exotic animal show and more. The festival, which is the closing event for AFRICANDO 2001, will be promoted in Africa, AFRICANDO organizers say. A trade delegation from Miami and Washington, D.C., will conduct trade seminars promoting the conference and festival in Nigeria, Mali, Ghana, Senegal, South Africa, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Kenya and Tanzania.
The Mystic Revelation of Rastafari, a group of Nyabinghi ceremonial drummers founded by the legendary Count Ossie in the 1950s, is not only making its New York debut but is raising the curtain on the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts' "Caribbean Roots: Caribbean Routes" festival. Chris Combette, who has been collaborating with Mungal Patasar on several tracks for his new album, opened the show with his beautiful fusion of Caribbean styles - samba, salsa, soca, bossa nova, reggae and zouk sweeping over the auditorium like warm waves. Based in French Guiana, bordering Brazil, Combette has soaked up the melodies of the region, while his lyrics address the nostalgia or alienation of the immigrant, and racist murder in the metropole. Beneath his sinuous, sometimes ethereal music lurked incisive Kwéyol irony and melancholy metaphors. It was left to Kali and his banjo to bring down the curtain on the festival with his brilliant reworking of Martiniquan traditional music, mazurk, biguine, chouval bwa, gwo ka (from Guadeloupe) with reggae, funk and jazz. It was good to hear St. Lucian Luther François, one of the Caribbean's foremost contemporary composers and sax players, adding punch to this excellent band and the finale of a significant festival for Caribbean music.
The term "world beat music" is less than a decade old. The music is a genre defined by the heads of a number of small London-based record labels who found that their records from Africa, Latin America and the Caribbean were not finding rack space. Major record stores had no obvious place for these unclassified sounds. The average listeners have not. Today the major record chains - Spec's, Best Buy, and others - have responded to buyers' demand to make available music from Africa, Cuba, Jamaica, Brazil and Latin America. Finding releases from Senegal's Kouding Cissoko or Baaba Maal is no problem. Finding the Afro-French, hip-hop sound of Les Nubians is simple; so finding the music of Nacio from Dominica, Gilberto Gil from Brazil, or Bamboleo of Cuba.
Friday, Oct. 29 was Kweyol Day, a celebration of island identity and culture. While the official language of the Commonwealth of Dominica is English, 80 percent of the population speak Kweyol, a legacy of early French settlement. Kweyol language and folk culture, after being sidelined, dismissed or denigrated during the British colonial period, has played an important role in forging the identity of independent Dominica since 1978. People's irritation with a late start was quickly dissolved. After the Stars, the Vodou rhythms of Haiti's seminal roots music band Boukman Eksperyans reverberated through Festival City. Named after the Vodou priest who presided over the ceremony that ignited Haiti's slave rebellion, Boukman Eksperyans has been at the forefront of taking the Vodou beat into the arena of world music. Tabou Combo, the most famous and long-lived Haitian Konpa band, seemed reluctant to leave the stage, but from 5 a.m., Festival City was overrun by WCK, [Dominica]'s marathon bouyon band, with whom I was still chipping at breakfast time. Not even a large pot of extra-strong Dominican coffee could revive me, and I retired battered and rambling in Kweyol, to recover in Trinidad.
"We're not a Jamaican station. We're not a Trinidadian station. We're not a Bajan [Barbadian] station. We're not an African-American station," [Carl Nelson] says of his station, which broadcasts from Davie, near Fort Lauderdale. "Our target audience is the entire Caribbean [community], and that includes second-generation Caribbean Americans and people [of other nationalities] who like Caribbean-American music." Nature of service "We don't see the radio as a juke box," he says. "We're here to serve the community and just because you put some music on the radio doesn't mean you're serving the community." "Everybody who's advertised with us has reported good results," he says. "That's because they're getting a mix of people. They [reach] people from all the different islands. They get African Americans. They get whites. For them [the advertisers]it's a plus."
In 1984, the association opened an expanded Historical Museum at the Miami-Dade Cultural Center in downtown Miami. This 40,000-square-foot facility includes a permanent exhibition that traces the history of South Florida and the Caribbean, a temporary exhibition gallery that features several new exhibitions each year, a theater and classroom area for variety of educational programs, and storage areas for the museum's extensive collections of artifacts and archival materials, including books, manuscripts, maps and more than one million photographs related to the region. In recent year, the Historical Museum has directed increasing attention to Miami's role as a gateway of the Americas. To explore Miami's multifaceted connections with the Caribbean and Latin America, a new program series, Miami: The Gateway City, was introduced in Spring 1999. The objective of the 12-month series is to use the museum as a central forum for public dialogue about current issues facing Miami and as a space for related artistic presentations.
The genesis of these carnivals carries the intent of resisting on some level, by Caribbean migrants, the otherwise alienating conditions of life in migration, to "carnivalise" these landscapes with some of the joy and space commensurate with Caribbean carnival. Indeed, Caribbean intellectual contributions have had successful impact on the development of U.S., European and African thought. Still, the Caribbean in most imaginings, and in particular to those who do not know it well, is the place of "sun and fun," a vacation land devoid of serious engagement with the world. Caribbean carnival then is the climax of all those "sun and fun" constructions. Yet, there is a history and politics to carnival - a "carnival of resistance" beyond the outer face of "carnival of tourism" - that demands exposure.
Mocko Jumbie, as it is called in the Caribbean, has been a part of the Virgin Islands culture for more than 200 years. The phrase "Mocko Jumbie" may have different meanings according to the different tribes that practices the art. "Mocko" could mean "Mock" or it could mean "Good God."
