Yuma or Compay

As I walk the streets of Vedado and Habana Vieja, I find myself constantly torn between my dream to integrate into Cuban society and the reality that I will forever remain an outsider looking in. Dressed in shorts or jeans, and a plain white t-shirt, I attempt to blend in with the rest of Cuba, but am constantly betrayed by my out-of-place pale white freckled skin and short red hair. Although I continue confidently down the street, I am harangued by shouts of, “Taxi! Oh Americano? Hey my friend!” the list goes on. Even though I remind everyone that I am here to study, I am still labeled as a tourist and constantly find myself struggling between the two identities. I constantly fight between pulling out my digital camera to capture an interesting building or to leaving it in my bag in an attempt to hide my position as an outsider. As a result, rarely do I photograph what is usually a stunning scene, confining my picture-taking to when we are all on trips around the city. Although I know I should have no fear and simply snap away, the battle wages on as I strain to define my role here in Cuba.

As each day goes by, it becomes apparent to me that no matter what I do, I will never be Cuban. An obvious notion, but the desired goal for any traveler is to fit in. Even though as a student, I live in an apartment and not a hotel, I am reminded that my living situation is much better than that of the average Cuban. While I get two full meals a day, instant internet access, a penthouse view of the Malecón and Atlantic Ocean, working bathrooms and showers, and purified water to name a few, Cubans, including those who take care of us at the Residencia, in comparison have a much poorer standard of living. Not to say that it is an inferior or worse situation, just that everyday I am more and more aware of just how privileged we are here and even more back home in the United States.

However, that being said, despite the fact that I automatically stick out as a yuma, I have found it particularly easy to integrate myself into Cuban society through my interactions with the people here. Everyday, as I walk through the streets, I go by everyone with a smile on my face and, to those that meet my gaze, a friendly, “Hola, buenas. ¿Como ehta?” I have discovered that a smile goes a long way, and for the majority of the time, even those with the biggest frown on their face will brighten up and respond with a, “Hola hola” as I pass. Also, everyday I make it my business to talk to someone different, not only to practice my Spanish, but to learn more and more about life in Cuba. What I find is that this island is full of people who love to talk and are as willing to chat with me as I am with them. At one Movie Theater, after I tried to ask a few questions, a woman rushed out from behind the plastic window where she worked to ask me, “Where are you from?” What followed was an unsuspected but extremely pleasant conversation where she told me all about her family and the history of her daughter’s name. Additionally, through my encounters with the changing faces at the stadium de Jose Marti not only do I share my passion for soccer, but meet new people and continue to learn about Cuban culture.

Poco a poco, bit by bit, I learn just what my role here is. I now understand that I will never be a Cubano, will never appear to have lived here and should stop trying to fool myself into believing that I can hide my blatant American identity. But why try to hide? What I have learned is that rather than attempt to be something I’m not, I have to embrace my identity as an extranjero¸ thus integrating myself into Cuban society not as a Cuban, but as a foreigner. In this way, in the oncoming weeks that will rapidly seem to turn into months, I will continue to walk and talk to anyone and everyone I meet, not worrying about how I don’t fit in, but instead concentrating on embracing my identity as an outsider not just looking in, but seeking to understand and become close with what surrounds me. Although I forever remain a yuma and will never truly be a Cubano, hopefully in the months to come, I can become a friend or compay.

“In a short time, we will be a memory"

I going to esplain you some-thing, some-thing about my life from my experience. I’m not politics, I’m not economist. But I am sick, we are all sick, of Castro this and Castro that; sick of ‘the Revolution.’ It is the eh-same espeech, over and over again. For us, no, the buses are not like a party. The music, maybe; but the mood, no. Fifty years of this… it is not a party. But, it is what, how do you say this? What God… choose? Chose? Fue lo que dios nos destinó. But to let people be free, buy a car, and go somewhere, travel. If I could travel and come back, for esample, if I could go a semester abroad, to study, and come back. No need to stay, you know? That is the problem. They want to control you, control control control, all the time, no? Like if I wanted to start my own bakery, and I could use my own recipes and ingredients, and it would be really good. But no. This country doesn’t allow you to become rich.

There is something the Cuban rap group, Aldeanos, says in a song. They says in a short time we will be remind… ah how can I esplain this in English…In a short time we will be a memory… Who? We, The Archipelago, Cuba, the youth, ehrybo-dy. Lo que nos queda es nada para ser un recuerdo. They are my fa-vo-rite because they speak what the Cubans want to hear, they say what it is that Cubans, we, are thinking. A lot of it is ‘counter-Revolutionary’ and complaints, but they continue because they are good and people can relate. Like Ché, an image, a memory - that is what will be, what will happen, to Cuba. This country is destroying, everyday everyday everyday, the necessities. Is a general feeling, you know? Is anger that I feel. Everybody feels… frustrated. It’s are the common feelings of a mayority of Cubans.

Not all, not every Cuban wants to leave but the mayority of the youth want to leave. The intelligent ones. The ones that want to… improve their life. The… stu-pid ones, are here; maybe drinking alcohol, or stealing. Wasting time. But the mayority want to leave. Minus Haiti, I would go anywhere really. Really anywhere. Jes! Who knows? Iran might be better than here. I do not know because I was not alive, I only know what I have lived, but, since my childhood, since I was growing up – is correct, ‘growing up’? Estaba creciendo - as far as I can remember, any change in Cuba has been for the worse. I haven’t enjoyed anything of the Revolution. At least my father took advontage of the relationship between the Soviet Union that we had. I did not have that. Because of the relations with the Soviet Union, we had things like gas, and more food. We are so hungry all we think about is food food food, make love, food food food, money, food food food. At the beginning of the Revolution, those things – clothes, material things – were belong to [*points across the Ocean, north towards the United States*] ‘consumerism,’ ‘capitalism,’ to “them.” But now, with more advances, we want these things too, no?

We are like Indians here. We have no idea how developed country are outside. We only think in food. I tell you, the most important thing in Cuba is food. You ahre a teacher, in a classroom, but you are only thinking in what you are going to fix for your children. Everyone in this country survives stealing, that’s why the economy is so bad. They steal to survive, of course, jes, of course. They steal, for esample, if you work at a bakohry, you will steal the sugar, the how do you say this? Is like powder? Harina? Flour! Jes jes, flowh-urr. Or, for esample, maybe I am not so good in school because when I leave, I might not have anything to do. The TV here are shit. They only show you what they want to show you. If in Italy was an explosion, they will show you that. Not about the museums or the good places, the downtowns or children’s parks, no. Nothing here works.

I am take advantage of what good things are, there are, in Cuba. Which is over and over again said- the eh ‘universal healthcare,’ the ‘free education.’ To prepare for the future, you know? I do not know what I want to do for the future. To be successful, you know? No, not ne-cess-arily in acting, maybe I will work in something else. It is not good to always be thinking in the future. You need to live in the present. If you are always thinking in the future, is no good. Things I like about my country are amistad, friendship. The people. The people are very caring, no? We have necessity here, but we are, how do you say… alegres? Happy! Jes – happy. We are good dancers, nice, we are good people, and intelligent. When Cuban arrive in any other country, they will be educated. I just feel like there is nothing here for me.

Postscript

-When choosing what to write about, there really was no question that I would generally give a narrative that reveals his nationality and feelings towards his country. He speaks about these things most of the time. The problems – social, political, economic, governmental – that Cuba faces today are very much a lived reality for him and affect his future.

-I am choosing to leave out any information that would link the interview directly to him. There were some remarks he made, mostly in jest, about/against the Cuban government or specific government persons that I purposely omitted. I did this both to potentially protect him and because sometimes, after these remarks, he would laugh, wave his hands, point at me while I was writing in my notebook and say “¡ahh no no no! Jaja ¡No escribas eso!” More than out of fear I think he wanted these remarks to be left out because they were jokes and that in some way takes away from the seriousness and sincerity of what he shared.

-I felt that since he told me most of this in English, I should write it in English. To take the narrative further, I felt that keeping the broken English/grammatical errors was important for three main reasons. The first reason is because it evokes a more true and accurate depiction of how he sounds. I think the reader can ‘hear’ his voice more when it is written this way. Second, much of what he said is his translation, to the best of his abilities. It may not have been exactly what he meant; it might not have portrayed exactly what he felt. So writing it as he said it keeps from a misinterpretation and again is more accurate. Last, I think his speaking in English is symbolic of his desires and goals to leave the country. He actually said that he was sick of Spanish, which I did not specifically note in the narrative, but I thought it was very interesting. He seems to be ‘sick’ of many aspects of Cuba and his motivation to speak English and desire to break from Spanish is symbolic of his frustrations.

-I wanted to weave what he said over the course of three meetings (hours of discussion) into a story. I wanted to explain his life as he has expressed it to me through his frustrations.

-I tried to write the way he pronounces certain words with bold used where he would emphasize a sound and say it louder (almost always done because he was struggling with the pronunciation, not necessarily done on purpose), a – was used where he would break up a word, … when there was a pause in his speech (either thinking of what the word was that he wanted to use, how to conjugate, or just how to explain what he was thinking), and italics were used where he would put a lot of emotion into a word, drag a word out, spoke in Spanish, and in general where a word was given more significance in his speech. Words were misspelled to try to portray the way he said them.