A Culture of My Own The smell of the ocean, palm trees, and the sound of the salsa beats in the distance, characteristics of a beautiful culture. But is that really what My culture is. As a Cuban in America, culture is much different than that of a island native. My culture, or should I say, the culture that my family has molded into our own, is a spectacular one. It may not be the same as it was one-hundred years ago, or even twenty years ago for that matter. But one things makes that okay, culture is not written, nor are you born with in.
We humans are taught culture. And what I’ve learned and discovered on my own is that being Cuban means many things to me; it means music and loudness, A lot of family memories, and most definitely pride. To begin with, the Cuban culture is one of much loudness and joyous music. Growing up, there was never a day that I did not wake up to the sound of loud salsa music blaring.
Or to the loud voices of my mother or grandmother talking. To anyone else this “talking” would surely be mistaken for an argument or fight. Cuba is where salsa music and the conga drum originated so we tend to be very prideful of this. One of the greatest salsa singer / writer was the late Celia Cruz. She was somewhat of a hero to Cuban people; seeing as though she had been a Cuban refugee, and became a great success in the U. S.
Her recent passing was a devastation, not only to the Cuban society but to all Latinos and many Americans as well. Which brings me to family. My Mother and Aunts had grown up listening to and admiring Celia Cruz so you can only imagine their reaction to her death. Our entire family was in mourning. Sound kind of silly, but it was as if one of our on had passed. Like many Latin families, mine is huge! And what does a huge family mean; a lot of parties, weddings, and holidays.
The Essay on Salsa Cuban Music
... a rich part of Cuban culture. When Spanish colonists started the trade of African slaves, the history of salsa music began. Given to Cubas ... who is called the mother of salsa, was born in Havana. She grew up in huge family of fourteen children. While she ... familiarized with a new music genre that was the result of various Hispanic musicians experimenting with different sounds of the Caribbean to ...
Holidays with a Cuban family is a one of a kind experience. There is drinking, music, fun, and of course fights. It is certainly somewhat of a comforting chaos. This past Christmas, I spent alone with my Mother and Step- Father, and it was just not the same. My Mother had an argument with her brother and as many Latinas are, head strong, she refused to join the rest of the family. Continuing on with pride.
Culturally flamboyant people can be so full of pride that they swear that is cut, they will bleed the colors of their countries flag. Pride, I know from experience, is indisputably a cultural trait. I am only fifty percent Cuban, but I feel one-hundred percent Cuban blood running through my veins. The pride of your culture makes one feel alive. When you are surrounded by people who look, act, and talk so much like you, it makes you feel so alive. There is a certain energy, a certain high you feel when pride is running thorough your veins.
It is an amazing feeling. It’s simply amazing that all of these feelings are learned from what our parents have taught us and what we, since young ones have observed. Nevertheless, culture will un disputably continue to change, due to location or even era. But there will always be those certain things one carries inside. We will always be taught what we should feel like, act like, and be like.
Whether is be music, memory of family, or bursting pride, culture will be forever present. We will continue to learn what our culture is, and always make it our own.
