“We come from a small island, but our influence is sweeping”
TALKING RESILIENCE AND THE MEANING OF HOME ON AN AFRO-CUBAN TRIP TO EASTERN CUBA
Credit: Cuba One
In February of this year, a small group of Cuban Americans traveled to Eastern Cuba to explore their Afro-Cuban heritage and reflect on issues of race and identify. It was the first Afro-Cuban themed trip for CubaOne, a Miami-based nonprofit which fosters connections between young Cuban Americans and their families and peers on the island through travel. Beyond Roots, a Havana-based brand and movement that promotes Afro-Cuban culture and identity, helped organize and curate the program. Participants enjoyed the expansive culture and vast beauty of Santiago de Cuba and Baracoa and had powerful interactions with Afro Cuban members of civil society. We interviewed Leilani Bruce, a proud Cuban-Jamaican American who took part in the transformative trip.
What is your relationship with Cuba?
I see Cuba as my motherland, I was not born there, it is the birthplace of my mother and grandmother. Since the first time I visited Cuba as a kid in 2002, Cuba has been a place that I hold very close to my heart.
I am a first-generation Caribbean American. My mother was born in Havana, Cuba, and arrived with her siblings and my grandparents on the Mariel Boatlift in 1980. Like many others, they left an entire life behind them, but they never abandoned their roots, customs, or traditions.
My relationship with Cuba was nurtured and cultivated by my Abuela who only speaks Spanish, only makes and eats Cuban food, and whose cafe brand of choice is La Llave. It was with her and my grandfather that my siblings and I visited the island for the first time. It was 2002 and the first time they would return since leaving in 1980.
As a kid, on that trip, I was able to live freely and fully, without a care in the world. Playing hide-and-seek games spanned across blocks, picking and eating mamoncillos, guava, and mangos, and feeling a familial connection to every visiting stranger.
My grandmother wanted us to know our homeland, to experience the place where she lived and built her family. After that first trip, we traveled back many summers, and each time we were never ready to go home.
I carry that same sentiment with me today. I find that every time I return, it’s so hard to leave. Yes, there is struggle, yes, there is pain, but above all, there is resilience, there is love, and there is home.
What spurred you to apply for CubaOne’s trip to eastern Cuba?
I was aware of CubaOne as an organization for a few years and was acquainted with some alums, but it wasn’t until I heard about the Afro-Cuban themed trip that I decided to apply. It almost felt like it was meant to be.
I felt a strong connection to my Afro-Cuban and Afro-Caribbean roots, but it was not something that I had ever explored in an intentional or purposeful way on my trips to Cuba. First, most of my trips occurred when I was a kid, I was playing in the streets and experiencing life as any Cuban kid, but not really delving into the history and culture on a deeper level. And even though I was doing things or experiencing things that were of Afro-Cuban origin all the time, I wasn’t really looking at it or thinking about it under that lens.
The trip seemed like an incredible opportunity to not only explore a part of the island that I had never visited but also to really delve into Afro-Cuban culture from a historical perspective, to really understand the extent of the influence of the African diaspora on Cuba, with other Cuban Americans who shared a common Afro-Cuban identity or connection.
“Yes, there is struggle, yes, there is pain, but above all, there is resilience, there is love, and there is home.”
Santiago de Cuba street scene and the music group Tumba Francesa.
How has your understanding of your Cuban heritage and identity changed since taking part in the trip?
I think that the biggest thing for me was to be able to really connect with, discuss, and have really open, heartfelt conversations about identity, and what it means to be Afro-Cuban, or Afro-Latinx with people who shared that same experience.
Living in Miami, I have always been in and exposed to environments with people of different backgrounds, however, to be honest, outside of family connections and famous idols, I never really knew any Afro-Cubans or Afro- Cuban Americans who I shared a common experience with.
The trip was packed with a ton of super insightful, thoughtful, and overall exciting experience. It was really nice to experience a part of Cuba that was predominately black, and proud. From the religious history to the art, to the music, it was really beautiful to see Afro-Cuba so full of life, energy, and pride.
What were some of your revelations regarding race in Cuba? Did you have preconceived notions before arriving in Cuba, and, if so, how were they impacted by what you experienced?
I would say that, when comparing it to the United States, there is not as much as a strong feeling of Black vs. White when it comes to race relations in Cuba. However, there is definitely still a level of inequality in opportunity and access when being black in Cuba.
I think a lot of Afro-Cubans, of any shade (there are so many of us!), have experienced a level of racism when it comes to skin color, or hair type (Pelo malo?!, what’s that about anyway?). I think that it’s something that has been taught from colonial times, “lighter is better” “advance the race” “straighten your hair”. And it’s sad to see, sad to experience, but I think if anything, the trip provided some hope in that there is more awareness, and that newer generations are shaking that stigma off and embracing their Afro heritage.
On our trip, we were able to connect with Beyond Roots, who have created their own movement to empower Afro-Cubans to embrace their natural curls, sport African prints, learn about their African roots, and support each other to create a beautiful community of Afro-Cuban entrepreneurs.
It was so inspiring to me, to see these young, Afro-Cuban entrepreneurs who are making it their mission to promote Afro-Cuban culture, encouraging Cubans, and tourists alike to learn about what it means to be Afro-Cuban and to see how much of traditional Cuban culture is derived from African culture.
Monumento al Cimmarón in Santiago de Cuba and a vegetarian restaurant in Baracoa.
Was there one particular moment, intellectually or emotionally, that stood out for you during the trip?
I think, for me, one of the most emotional moments on the trip came when we were having an after-dinner discussion, and the topic of the conversation was to talk about what identity meant to us personally and our experiences with identity.
I spoke about my experience of being visibly mixed and ambiguous in terms of race, and how throughout my lifetime, I’ve had several experiences where other people have tried to apply their preference (intentionally, or not) to my race. Saying things like ‘Oh, you’re not black, you’re Cuban’ as if one cannot be both, or as if blackness is something undesirable.
I think it was incredibly powerful to feel a sense of unity, and understanding with other people who had similar, or equally challenging experiences when it comes to race and identity under the Afro-Cuban/Afro-Latinx lense.
This visit happened shortly before the world froze due to COVID-19. How would you describe your Afro-Cuban reconciliation visit in the context of what the world’s facing now?
First, and foremost, I am incredibly thankful to have been able to have that incredible experience and to have met such incredible people before COVID-19.
I think it’s beautiful to see Cuba at the frontlines of combating this disease. A country that to many is seen as a poor, desolate place, when it is in fact, one of the most resilient, loving, and giving places in the world.
If anything, it makes me incredibly proud to be Afro-Cuban, and more motivated than ever to connect with my peers on the island and find ways to support and encourage the work being done by changemakers in Cuba, Afro-Cuban or otherwise.
Many people who travel to Cuba spend most or all of their time in Havana. What are your thoughts of traveling exclusively to eastern Cuba, and spending all of your time in Santiago and Baracoa?
We traveled to Santiago on one of the last charter flights that would be allowed to cities outside of Havana. It was bittersweet. I was thankful that we’d be able to take one of the last direct flights but heartbroken that the administration was changing policy, making it harder for people to explore Cuba.
Santiago was such a rich and beautiful city. Our hosts were incredible, the food was fresh and delicious, the people were kind, and the streets lively. Baracoa was a dream. It had some of the best food and drinks (Canchánchara!) I’ve ever had in Cuba, and I was pleasantly surprised to find curry and coconut milk in a lot of dishes.
Both cities were welcoming, warm, and brought a familiar feeling despite being places I’d never visited.
I definitely plan to return to both cities, at the next available opportunity, and I would recommend anyone Afro-Cuban or otherwise visit if given the opportunity.
If you could share your thoughts with all Cubans, on and off the island, in a couple of sentences, what would your message be?
Never lose your magic, never give up your fight. We come from a small island, but our influence is sweeping.
