dreaming of Cuba
My last trip to Cuba was in 1959 as Fidel Castro took complete control of the island. But...the music, smoke,
laughter and dancing is still a swirling dream that has not ended. MICHAEL COLINA
"I remember as a three year old an early example of
my musical expressiveness: banging on pots n' pans
on the kitchen floor, a true joy! My mother grew tired
of the noise and yanked me off the floor by the arm,
slinging me into the air and tossing me into the pantry
closet. My little soul was consumed with fear and total
darkness. Finally she let me out. I was shattered, thankful
to be free, to see light, to be accepted. My eyes opened to
an orange tropical sunrise, wondering what might happen
to me in the future."
"These memories blend into one eternal summer, after rising
at four in the morning to go fishing till noon, with a swim off
the boat to shore in the gorgeous Caribbean waters."
"Growing up in Cuba, thinking about what used to be - the
wonderful frijoles negros, platanos fritos, arroz con pollo and flan,
bring back memories of my grandmother and grandfather, true
conservative Cuban Spanish archetypes; Catholic, traditional
and extremely proud."
"We eventually moved to North Carolina, a place that echoed
with all sorts of sounds, sights and a foreign language; coffee,
cigars, rum and rumba. I literally had dozens of cousins, aunts
and uncles. Our family was large and after the afternoon thunderstorm
the cooling evening would begin with music in a small local dance
hall where they would all gather, lead by my dad, the rumba king.
Everyone would dance until dawn. Of course, I would fall asleep;
eventually waking in bed, climb out, stumble outside listening to distant music,
and smelling the cigar smoke, hearing laughter, part of a Cuban dream I
still feel and see."
Labels: Childhood, Cuba, Dreams, memories, michael colina


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