Cuban, That's All! - A Virtual Companion


Cubanality cannot be measured in volume; it is measured in heart...

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Cuban, That's All
Candid Voices of a Spanglish Existence

1959: The Beginning
1960: Vocabulario Cubano
1961: The Teacher
1965: La Cabaña
1966: Drive-In Movie
1967: El Interviú
1971: Assimilaychon
1973: La Playa
1975: La Cafeteria
1976–1989: After The Beginning
1976: Los Quinces
1976: La Ultima Negra Sin Ritmo
1979: El Avion
1980: The Rise of the Marimba Queen
1980: Soy Hijo del Mariel
1983: The Southern Way
1986: Al Fin, I’m Free
1989: La Receta
1990–Present: The Beginning of the End
1992: Balsero
1994: Operacion Pedro Pan
1995: Mayflower Mary
1997: The Fall of the Marimba Queen
2000: Heladero
2001: Third Generation
2002: Shoebox Child
1959–2002: The Voices
Today: The End

More Cuban, That's All!
The Voices of the Cuban Diaspora Speak Again

1959: Back to the Beginning
1962: Beisbol
1963: The Student
1965: La Guagua de San Bernardo
1965/2005: Georgia En Mi Mente
1966/1996: El Amor Tiene Cara de Comida
1967: Champú de Herbal
1970: Maria Guaperia
1973: Lupe, The Cleaning Lady
1975: La Factoría Del Invento
1976: El Coreógrafo
1979: Gusanos Come Home
1980: El Orange Bowl
1983: The Last American Person Living in Hialeah
1985: El Addichon
1989: La Boda
1992: Lola Loved Plantains
1994: Flotilla Para Uno
1995: Baby Love
1998: Somos One People
1999: La Cenicienta
2001: My Belleza
2002: La Cola
2003: La Dieta Cubana
2004: I Grew Up in a Household
2005: Muerto Vivo

Flotilla for One...a rafter speaks his truth via a 'Son Cubano'

They call me a rafter ‘cause I floated here from my Cuban home sweet home
On a raft made of pvc pipe, rope, straw and rotten wood all my own
I dove into the sea looking for freedom of expression
And when I got to the US a makeshift prison was my lesson

Imagine buddy I have to work every day
I derive no pleasure from eight hour days
I had to learn to drive a stick shift car
And forget about my rusty old bike in Cuba, who needed a car?

Everyone says don’t give up, you cannot fail
But I think perhaps my life within the waters had more sail
Sharks only bite when blood is in their view
But on land the crowds of people like a train they will derail you

At least at sea I knew that I could swim
But on land I do not even know where to begin
I don’t understand the words or know their ways
Dear God please shed some light to the darkened lessons I once obeyed
For those old communist refrains in me no longer burn
I now wish to unlearn the rhythm of the endless marching beat
And learn to walk with my integrity and erase the lessons on my swollen feet
To retaste my lost ambition erased from years of repetition
As a man who hoped and prayed the sea would not lead him to perdition

But there I was starting over at the age of twenty-three
And here I am at twenty-eight I still have not found me
I’m the rafter who took to the sea like a thief in the night
Embarrased by his own foolish embrace of a hopeless plight

You lied to me my friend, you said it would all be better
In Miami everything’s the same except it’s hotter and and it’s wetter
I dedicate my song to the people who once shared my home
They say they are here in exile, but I feel all alone

I’m not from here and I can no longer be from there
I’m the rafter who doesn’t fit in anywhere
In my flotilla for one I traverse the uncalm sea
Hoping that one day this exile will find room on land for me.

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