Text and Photos by Nester Nuñez (Joven Cuba)
HAVANA TIMES – The sculptural ensemble at the entrance is shaped like a horseshoe, one of those that believers place behind their doors, associating it with good fortune, prosperity, and protection against evil spirits. There are also snakes and other animals cut out of metal, vaguely referencing Wifredo Lam’s painting “The Jungle.” The crowd gathered, almost all neighbors from the most deteriorated and marginalized part of the Pueblo Nuevo neighborhood, falls silent when a lady feeds corn to some rag dolls hanging from the bars. She then sprinkles them with coconut water, as if purifying them or cleansing them of all guilt. I can’t define the intention or the meaning of the ritual. In any case, this afternoon of June 24th, there will be fire, even though the rain threatens.
The clouds dance their gray dance, and the dolls seem to be made by hurried children who didn’t receive televised music education classes. They are made gracelessly, stuffed with dust and straw, or nylon and cardboard, and their supposed humanity, beyond those limp arms and legs, is evidenced by some absurd smiles that denote absolute ignorance of the fate that life holds for them —if you can call it life.
It is those smiles and that ignorance that fully equate the dolls with the residents of Matanzas present in the Alley of Traditions, worthy representatives of all Cubans. What differentiates us is that we have lived many years in the fire while the dolls will be devoured by it shortly, for our rejoicing or benefit, without pyromania or sadism in such an act. It is just a tradition we inherited in the 19th century from the Catalans who arrived in the city, so they say, and traditions give us a sense of belonging and identity and help us better understand our place in the world, they say.
Perhaps to better understand what that place is, the coordinator of the cultural activity looks at the corn grains on the cobblestones where he plants his footprint, also sees the coconut water spilled like tears, and immediately raises his gaze to the crowd and speaks about the common aspiration for the bad days to go away, for the misfortunes to end, for the clouds or God and all the Saints to let blessings fall on this withered Island. That is what he said, with kind words or similar ones that were lost in the loud voice of the crowd, impatien
