How I Experience Viernes Culturales - Part 2

Ok, so time to continue my story from Part 1.

l-r: Ruben Abella, Julio Cesar
Rodriguez and the FIU student

The Survey

It was a little past 8 pm. As I mentioned in the first part of my account, I missed the official unveiling of the mural and the final dance performance because I was still engaged in conversation with friends.

I'd also been busy responding to the questions of a young man who was asking festival-goers to fill out a survey.

"Of course I'll fill it out!" I said.

Then a lightbulb went off in my head and I asked, "Are you an ... intern with Viernes Culturales?"

"Well, actually I'm a student at FIU ..."

It was all I the information I needed.

"So YOU are from the fraternity that stole our rooster! I was really mad about your antic but I'm so grateful you're doing community service now. That's fantastic. What do you think about Viernes Culturales?"

"I love it!" he said, his face brightening. "I really like this festival. Everyone's so nice. I had no idea so many people come out for this." We continued our conversation, and I was impressed by the student's maturity and friendliness.

Over and over again I mentioned how glad I was that he and his fraternity brothers were following through with community service. (Their fraternity "borrowed" one of Little Havana's popular rooster sculptures last year, as part of a prank.)

Impromptu Drumming on the Sidewalk

After completing the survey, I noticed the sounds of drumming. I walked over to the sidewalk in front of Cubaocho, where two musicians used sticks to pound big drums (much wider than conga drums) strapped around their necks. "Are these Uruguayan drums," I wondered?

Actually, I should say I saw three musicians, because Regla Cumbá stood by and was playing the claves, although her true instrument is her phenomenal voice. As always, she carried herself with regal grace, wearing a solid black, flowing dress as well as a black headwrap that crowned her long bronze-colored braids.

A Stop at Azucar

Robert Parente & Suzy Batlle

I decided it was time to move on to the rumba that always takes place up the street, but first I wanted to stop in and say "Hi" to Suzy Batlle at her charming ice cream shop, Azucar, which I've written about in previous blog posts.

She was there, of course, and one of her customers was Robert Parente, a board member of Viernes Culturales and a professional photographer whose work can be found in Edible South Florida, a local magazine that covers the region's local food scene. Suzy recently joined the board of Viernes Culturales, too!

I wasn't hungry at the moment, but my usual Viernes Culturales custom is to treat myself to an ice cream cone at Azucar. My favorites include the lemon sorbet, mamey, mango and ... there are so many more! All made from scratch, from the best ingredients.

The outdoor patio at El Cristo

I continued walking up Calle Ocho when I saw one of my friends, Julio Cesar Rodriguez, walking in the same direction. Julio Cesar is a local "sonero" originally from Santiago de Cuba, on the Eastern end of Cuba. His hometown is also the birthplace of Cuban son, the musical style in which he specializes.

Together we walked up the street. When I approached the Cuban restaurant El Cristo, I saw the owner Jose Zelaya chatting with two tourists sitting at one of the tables outside. There were actually three patrons at the table, if you included the infant in the mother's arms.

"This is really great! It's our first time here," said the father at the table. "The food here is really good."

"I know," I said. "Welcome to Little Havana!" I said.

Ready ... to Rumba?

Drummers playing batá drums in Top Cigars

We continued on, past I Love Calle Ocho, an intimate, art-filled spot only open on Fridays and Saturdays. The woman-owned business hosts some terrific local groups (Cuban "feeling" music, boleros, jazz, etc.).

We'd made it to Top Cigars for the rumba. No one was playing dominos tonight, which was surprising, and the place was still relatively empty. But the three drummers sat on the cigar shop's tiny stage, playing batá drums.

As they carried forth their rhythms and in call and response sang songs honoring particular Orisha, they attracted a crowd that soon packed the shop and also swelled in size along the sidewalk, gazing through the shop's windows. One of the drummers, Yosvanny, also happens to be one of the best male dancers of Afro-Cuban dance in Miami, too.

Then they switched to rumba, abandoning the batá drums to play instead congas, los palitos (literally, "the sticks"), and sometimes the cajón, a wooden box that is also used in flamenco music. A talented local percussionist who plays at Cubaocho nearby stopped by and joined in on the claves (two sticks struck together to form the fundamental rhythm). Julio Cesar was invited to sing one a rumba, and he did. Rumba is participatory.

Regla herself had appeared in the crowd and was now joining me and others in dancing to the rumba. Rumba, you should know, is the foundation of salsa and many other popular dance styles. It's hard not to dance when you hear its addictive rhythms, rooted in both African and Spanish (flamenco) music.

Galleries

Inside Futurama

When the musicians took their break, I left the shop to continue to Futurama, where I knew I'd run into more friends. Futurama is a creative incubator in the neighborhood, and houses the offices of my friends and local developers Bill Fuller and Martin Pinilla (the building's owners), as well as a handful of mini art studios/galleries and the Viernes Culturales office!

The place was packed, and by looking through the building's windows I could see that several musicians had just finished their set. Bill Fuller stepped outside and we chatted for awhile, and I had a chance to meet and greet the other FIU fraternity brothers who were helping with the surveys.

I spotted Marco Incer, owner of Art District Cigars, standing outside as well. "Hey Corinna, stop by sometime! You know you're always welcome." Marco's a really nice guy. I promised to do so. Often I step into the other galleries across the street from Futurama but tonight I decided to head straight over to Art District Cigars, even though my recent chest cold made me wary of cigar smoke.

It wasn't smoky at all, however. Art District Cigars is a hybrid space: a cigar shop (with a walk-in humidor), a full bar, live music on certain nights and for special events, and lots of comfortable seats for conversation or smoking that favorite maduro or corona. I saw Danny again, greeted Marco and his wife, and then caught the wiff of a freshly lit cigar. Sorry, Marco -- time to leave!

Regla Cumbá

I moved on to to the Spanish restaurant Casa Panza Cafe, where huge platters of paella had been set up on a table outside, tempting people to step inside. Some patrons sat at small outdoor tables, others sat in a large front room where flameno performances often take place, and still others sat in a small tavern-like space of the restaurant.

In the smaller, tavern-like area (to the right of the entrance), bone-in serrano ham sat in its holder on the bar counter, near a freshly prepared pitcher of sangria.

My friend Julio Cesar was talking to Regla Cumbá at the bar; they had both just finished their plates of paella. Regla Cumbá regularly performs at Casa Panza. Julio Cesar had to leave to prepare for his own performance at Cubaocho, so Regla and I stayed and talked for a little while.

I wanted to catch the Cubaocho performance so I departed from Casa Panza and headed back down Calle Ocho. A number of people were standing in front of Alfaro's, a nightclub with plenty of tables and a small stage.

As always, a large crowd had gathered on the corner of 16th Avenue and Calle Ocho, next to El Pub, to see a salsa singer (performing karaoke style) and daring dancers. It made me wonder: why did so few people simply want to watch, and not participate?

Looking up Calle Ocho at the crowded sidewalk
in front of Alfaro's 

The crowd had also completely hidden the roosters from view: two of the large rooster sculptures that stand sentry at the corner, one of which had been the victim of the fraternity antic last year.

Time for a cafecito! I stood at the cafeteria window of El Pub to order a cafecito, and there was the Santera I've seen at dozens of other Viernes Culturales celebrations. She is always dressed in plenty of yellow, wears her sacred beaded necklaces, and has no qualms about dancing in front of others. I love her boldness! She was ordering me a colada and offered me a tiny cup from it: a cafecito. Typical neighborliness here in Little Havana.

It turns out she was planning to go to Cubaocho, too, so we began walking down the sidewalk together.

To be continued!!! See part 3 of this Viernes Culturales adventure. Hopefully I will get some video up on this and all my Viernes Culturales blog posts soon, so stay posted.