IDENTIDADES 1 ENGLISH IDENTIDADES 6 ENGLISH | Page 146

would end up being a capitalistic tourist
icon, just like old Chevrolets?). This
contrasts sharply with the rumba
tradition, which draws equally from a
reverential respect for the dateless
history of their ancestors and those
“discarded elements of the future” in
order to exist like an eternal present.
These affirmations, like Martí’s line
about the “the rebellious and brutal north
that despises us,” have become more
attractive than the country, itself, which
could end up being ironical, if the
rumberos were truly interested in irony,
a pastime for people who live in time, in
history, and not in the rumba’s eternity.
5. When Pedrito Martínez is asked to
define the rumba, at the beginning of the
documentary, he responds by singing a
self-reflexive rumba: “The rumba is not
the danzón/that has notes that are
clear/it looks for a better tone/can be
your inspiration/searching for better
tones/searching for illustration/and the
highest of honors.” Put differently, the
rumba does not reject either the elegance
or its particular desire to transcend,
despite its light and spontaneous
gestures.
6. As we all know—all except those bent
on embracing a totally opposite view—
distance makes things greater. As soon
as the tangible referent disappears, there
is an image that takes its place. It doesn’t
have to deal with uncomfortable reality;
it just shines with the increasing
brilliance of something imagined. Yet,
I’d like to think that this is not what
happened in the case of the La Esquina
Habanera [Havana Corner]. It was
already a big deal on its own, quite
obviously, and not through nostalgia’s
exaggerated lens. Mentioning the
Esquina Habanera is like saying Rumba
Sundays, as if the rest of the week (and
life) didn’t matter. I arrived at the

Esquina Habanera, a bar in Union City,
New Jersey (the location of my first
apartment in the United States) for the
first time because Ramón Caballero took
me there. He was a 1994 balsero (rafter)
who had ended up creatin r&