By Carlos Martinez, Cuba: Culture & Society, Summer 2013
Think of it as a Cuban version of the Electric Daisy Carnival or Ultra Music Festival, or maybe the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival. For those of you that have not the slightest idea of what I am talking about, perhaps Woodstock will ring a bell. Something of the sort is what I experienced this past weekend at the annual Rotilla Festival at Jibacoa Beach.
The event produces a musical marathon for three days and three nights with no intermissions—the music plays nonstop. Thousands of people gather on the coast to enjoy electronic dance music, accompanied by a light show, massive screens showcasing an eclectic assortment of dance videos, food trucks and intermittent concerts put on by Cuban artists. People camp out on the beach or doze off for a few hours under a tree or behind a bush until they are recharged and ready to go again.
For some, this sounds like Dance Marathon gone wrong. For the young, wild and free: this is paradise. Three days of nonstop grooving, boozing and schmoozing. Our Cuban friends talked it up quite a bit. I saw it as an opportunity to experience firsthand a unique aspect of Cuban culture. Plus, if you know me, you know how much I love to dance. With little to no hesitation, I agreed to join our Cuban friends on this journey. I extended the invitation to my fellow Americans and a few of the women sanguinely accepted. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.
We left around 9 p.m. on Friday and arrived almost two hours later. At first sight, the festival was incredible. The agglomerate of people that spanned across the beach, vivid lights shining in every direction, the short, fast, high-pitched sounds typical of electronic dance music that evoked movement and merriment, accompanied by the indistinct conversations of the crowd, the scent of roasted pork and fried rice and a slight, summer breeze—the night had potential.
We headed straight for the beach. I stayed on shore first to keep an eye on our bags. I watched the girls as they walked into the water and noticed something that made me uneasy. There were several guys around them, staring at them. It was like a pack of starving hyenas staring at a fresh zebra’s carcass. It was not their somewhat predatory expression that discomforted me—after all, we are in Cuba, a country riddled by machismo and sexism—but rather the notion that this was going to be the least of our troubles that night. Unfortunately, I was right.
The rest of the night was defined by a series of arguments, two of which almost got physical. The intoxicated Cuban men knew no boundaries. The catcalls, the gropes, the blatant disregard of the word, “No,” (which is the same in both English and Spanish, in case you weren’t aware). I found myself playing the role of older brother, aggressively defensive of the girls. I remember telling a guy, “If you come near them again, I will break your face in.” The worst part was their reaction. They did not understand why I was so frustrated, why their behavior was not okay.
We ended up leaving earlier than anticipated. On the ride back, I did not speak. I concentrated all of my energy on concealing my anger. I was frustrated with the festival, with Cubans, with the girls, with myself.
Arguably, feminism is not as developed in Cuba as it is in the United States. After the Revolution in 1959, the Cuban government made several attempts to “organize” women in order to achieve gender equality. Despite these and many other changes at the political level, it is evident that the culture of machismo is entrenched in Cuban society.
Who is to blame? Who is responsible for large systems of inequality or injustice? Are we all at fault? Is it imperialistic of me, as an American, to denounce this aspect of Cuban culture, particularly when we have yet to resolve our own issues? Unfortunately, I am left with more questions than answers.
Though some may propose scholarship and discourse, it is important to remember that these topics should not be limited to the classroom or academic settings. While I am certainly not the one to propose solutions, I do know that awareness and discussion are a step in the right direction.
