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“Ay, no hay que llorar
Que la vida es un carnaval
y es más bello vivir cantando…”

In this, one of her signature songs, the late Celia Cruz sang “No need to cry – life is a carnival, and it’s always more beautiful to live singing.”  It is this positive philosophy in life that won her millions of fans from all over – earning her the title as the most successful and beloved salsa performer of the 20th century. It is also her infectious music and irresistible rhythms that make it all but impossible to keep your feet from tapping – or your hips from wiggling – when you listen to the Queen of Salsa.

Putting Cuba on the Map

With her explosive voice and equally vivacious personality, Cruz earned 23 gold albums and over 100 recognitions and Grammy awards. It was shewho introduced the world to salsa music, causing a wave of salsa trends to hit shores well beyond the Hispanic world. Billboard magazine once wrote in an article, “Cruz is indisputably the best known and most influential female figure in the history of Cuban music.”

Cruz spent her childhood and youth in Havana, Cuba – the birthplace of salsa. While growing up in the diverse Cuban musical climate of the 1930s, Cruz was influenced by many musicians along the lights of Pablo Quevedo, Paulina Álvarez, Abelardo Barroso, and Arcaño y sus Maravillas. But she quickly developed her own voice and style, creating music that’s distinctive and uniquely hers.

Cuban Legacy

Cruz started singing in cabarets as a teenager and then moved on to performing in a popular program on Havana’s Radio García-Serra. Her shot at fame came when she replaced the lead singer of a well-known Cuban orchestra, Sonora Matancera. She spent the next 15 years with them, gaining fame all over Latin America, during which she developed a trademark shout, greeting her audience with a loud “azúcar!” (sugar) at each show.

Though Cruz left Cuba for the United States in 1959 and spent the rest of her life there, her heart always belonged in Cuba. Throughout her 50-year singing career, she strongly supported educational, health and cultural issues in Cuba, as well as other Hispanic communities. She also founded the Celia Cruz Foundation, a non-profit organization dedicated to raising funds for underprivileged students wishing to study music. Celia left us in 2003, but her legacy will clearly be kept alive for a long time.

Photo | Phillip Pessar

 

What to do in Cuba, Santeria, Voodoo

In the Western Hemisphere, the religions brought over by African slaves have been part of the scene for centuries in Brazil, the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Cuba, and most famously Haiti. But until not many years ago, it was largely condemned by the Roman Catholic church and dismissed as “ignorant” and “low-class” by all but the poor. But I’ve had the chance to observe various aspects of its Cuban form, both on the island and in South Florida, and whether one believes in it or not, it’s undeniably a moving, often beautiful tradition that has in many ways made Cuban music, art, letters and even larger society what they are today. If you visit the island,* chances are you’ll see some reference to santería, whether practitioners dressed in white (above, a lady commonly offering photo ops in Old Havana), shrines, a museum like the one in the nearby town of Guanabacoa, or a folkloric performance including santería dance or music. So I thought a quick introduction might be in order.

Known more properly as “Ifá,”La Regla Lucumí,” or “La Regla de Ocha,” santería (a Spanish word that could be translated as “saintism”) came over to Cuba starting in the 16th century mostly with Yoruba-speaking West Africans from what is now part of Benin, Senegal, and Nigeria. But because of Catholic condemnation they quickly learned to hide their devotion to the traditional gods by in effect grafting them onto Catholic saints (santos), so that when they appeared to be praying to St. Barbara they were really worshipping Changó, lord of fire, thunder, and lightning; similarly, St. Lazarus masked Babalú-Ayé (patron of the sick; remember the old Desi Arnaz/Ricky Ricardo song?); and  Our Lady of Mercies stood for Obatalá, the creator of humanity. That’s why the religion is referred to as “synchretistic,” meaning a blending of two different religions.

These parallel santos are referred to as orishas (a name adopted by a popular Europe-based Cuban rap group, by the way), and religious practices surrounding them include casting shells for divination; offerings of fruit, rum, and cigars; and bembé ceremonies in which dancing and drumming lead participants to supposedly become possessed and channel the orishas; ritual sacrifice can also be involved (usually of chickens, sometimes of larger animals like goats). Santería priests are called babalaos, and shops selling candles, charms, and other santería supplies are botánicas.

All the above is a vast simplification; like any religion, santería is quite complex. But you shouldn’t visit Cuba* without seeking to learn a bit about this fascinating aspect of its culture, whether it’s the Guanabacoa museum, the dancing and art on Havana’s Callejón de Hamel, or even the watered-down, glammed-up music and costumes in the extravagant Tropicana floor show.

Photo |  Michael Vincent Miller

*Citizens, residents, or anyone subject to the jurisdiction of the United States may only travel to Cuba on special licenses with U.S. government permission.