Raíces y Tradiciones, una fiesta para recordar [Esp-Eng]

Raíces y Tradiciones, una fiesta para recordar [Esp-Eng]

Más allá del programa, más allá de la calidad de las ponencias del coloquio, más allá de los invitados de otros países y provincias, la Fiesta de Raíces y Tradiciones, el evento más importante de los organizados por la filial tunera de la Fundación Nicolás Guillén, nos dejó, en su reciente edición, un grato sabor, al menos a mí.
Y es que es bonito apreciar emociones sinceras más allá del protocolo; sentir la convicción con que defiende algún tema cierto investigador; ver lágrimas de gratitud en algún momento, o abrazos sinceros (que se notan) entre participantes...
Organizar un evento en la Cuba de estos tiempos (sin ser expertos en el asunto), ha de ser tarea titánica. Por eso, ver cómo se tejen lazos de a poquitos, que no se queden en la epidermis, debe ser satisfactorio para quienes intervienen en el proceso.
Raíces y Tradiciones me gustó por varios motivos. Vi a la cubanía pasearse orgullosa en guayabera, tanto en pasarela protagonizada por un proyecto que alude a esa prenda, hasta en otros espacios menos protocolares. Vi a elencos foráneos, como el dúo Bardos (de Costa Rica) y el trío Lunalondra (de Guatemala), compartiendo su amor nacionalista. Volvieron los versos de Martí a arrullarnos el alma y sentirnos junto a nosotros nuevamente, a La niña de Guatemala.
Se mezclaron terminologías de nuestros pueblos, como candanga, tica y bombas (especie de copla), en un verdadero ajiaco latinoamericano. Cada quien trajo consigo su pedacito de patria. Y así, entre las bambalinas del teatro Tunas, o la misma sede de la Fundación Nicolás Guillén, se fundieron los cerros y las nubes de México, los versos negreros de Guillén, el folclor que emana de creencias a loas o al panteón yoruba, la belleza del quetzal, la marisma, el color cubano..., tantas cosas.
Y, por esas cosas de la vida, como "no hay tamarindo dulce ni poeta cuerdo" (lo que nos recordó el poeta Osmel Valdés), nos metimos en su obra para caer desde un edificio de 18 plantas junto a Nicanor Cervantes, que decidió "volar" hacia un parque, hacia la eternidad. Y también en el poema que dedicara a su esposa Mailín Valdés, uno de esos que nos devuelve la esperanza a los que carecemos de ciertas cosas. Y también en los versos de ella, pura poesía, que aluden a un trayecto necesario, a un vuelo de almas.
Y nos fuimos por la garganta de la cantante de Lunalondra, que miraba hacia el cielo de vez en cuando, como si quisiera atrapar con el torrente majestuoso de su voz la luna de Chiquimula. Y sentimos las lágrimas de Dayislenis Velázquez, conmovida ante un poema descomunal de su colega de las letras Tomás Escobar. Y nos calaron bajo la piel los versos negreros de Lewis, la historia de los amigos que no se fueron ni en tiempos de ceguera y dolor, que nos cantara (contara) el trovador Richard Gómez.
Y nos sedujo el "wao" de Marina Lourdes Jacobo (al frente de la Fundación Nicolás Guillén en Las Tunas) cuando nos trasladó con su poesía al momento exacto en que cocina chícharos en horas de apagón.
Y nos alegraron las palabras de Elizabeth Damian (Presidenta de la Casa del Poeta de Cholula) cuando agradeció a nombre de los mexicanos "todas las sonrisas, todas las miradas". Y, como si nos abrazara la "olorosa raíz" y el "místico viaje" de los cuales habló Lucy Maestre en un poema, nos acarició el oído (y de cierta manera la piel) el popurrí de canciones románticas que ejecutó Bouquet's Dúo (de México) al cerrar la peña.
De qué callada manera, Guillén, nos sacudimos. Tú también estuviste allí, en la mandinga, en lo yoruba, en el epitelio bendito de la negritud y el folclor. Raúl Leyva, el anfitrión, se encargó de recordarnos por qué tú (y no otro) eres nuestro Poeta Nacional; y es que simplemente tienes lo que lo tenías que tener.
Son solo pinceladas, pero allí se fundió, en una invisible lluvia de luz, entre los tejidos multicolores de las vestimentas típicas y el arrullo seductor de una guitarra o un tambor, la cultura de nuestros pueblos y, con "ella", esa voluntad inquebrantable de defender las esencias, a pesar de todo, a pesar de todo.

_{Esta publicación ha sido escrita y documentada por mí, no contiene IA. Las fotos utilizadas son de mi propiedad}

English

Roots and Traditions, a festival to remember [Esp-Eng]

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Beyond the programme, beyond the quality of the colloquium presentations, beyond the guests from other countries and provinces, the Festival of Roots and Traditions, the most important event organized by the branch of the Nicolás Guillén Foundation, It left us, in its recent edition, a pleasant taste, at least to me.
And it is nice to appreciate sincere emotions beyond the protocol, feel the conviction with which he defends some certain research topic, see tears of gratitude at some point, or sincere hugs (that are noticed) between participants.
Organizing an event in the Cuba of these times without being experts on the subject, must be a titanic task. Therefore, to see if the tie is weaved little by little, that they do not remain in demand, must be satisfying for those involved in this process. In the case of Roots and Traditions I liked it for several reasons.
I saw the Cubans walking proudly in Guayabera, both on a runway starring a project that alludes to this garment, even in other less formal spaces. I saw foreign cast, such as the Bardos (from Costa Rica) and the Lunalondra (from Guatemala), sharing their nationalist love. The verses of Martí returned to lull our souls and make us feel together with us again, the girl from Guatemala.
We mixed terminology of our peoples, such as candanga, pikes and bombs, species of copla, in a true Latin American ajiaco. Each one brought with him his little piece of homeland, and so, between the backstage of the Teatro Tunas, or the very headquarters of the Nicolás Guillén Foundation, the hills and clouds of Mexico melted, the black verses of Guillén, the folklore that emanates from beliefs to the oas or the yoruba courtyard, The beauty of the quetzal, the marsh, the Cuban color..., so many things.
Especially, I remember the rock In what quiet way, which happened on the last day. There, under the tamarind tree of the Cultural Center Huellas, we feel the colorful and Latin American beats vibrate in a "contaminant" way, beautiful...
And, for those things of life, as "there is no sweet tamarind or sane poet" (which reminded us the poet Osmel Valdés), we got into his work to fall from a building of 18 floors next to Nicanor Cervantes, who decided to "fly" towards a park, towards eternity. And also in the poem dedicated to his wife Mailín Valdés, one of those that returns hope to those who lack certain things. And also in the verses of it, pure poetry, which allude to a necessary journey, to a flight of soul.
And we went through the throat of the singer from Lunalondra, who looked up at the sky every now and then, as if she wanted to catch the majestic torrent of her voice on the moon of Chiquimula.
And we feel the tears of Dayislenis Velázquez, moved by a huge poem by his colleague of letters Tomás Escobar. And we got under our skin the necromancer verses of Lewis, the story of the friends who did not leave even in times of blindness and pain, that sang to us (told) the troubadour Richard Gomez.
And we were seduced by the "wao" of Marina Lourdes Jacobo (at the head of the FNG #LasTunas) when he moved us with his poetry to the exact moment in which he cooks chilcharos during blackout hours.
And we were happy to hear the words of Elizabeth Damian when she thanked the Mexicans "all smiles, all eyes". And, as if we embraced the "smelling root" and the "mystical journey" of which Lucy Maestre spoke in a poem, we were caressed by the ear (and in some ways the skin) of the medley of romantic songs performed by Bouquet’s Duo ( from Mexico) when closing the rock.
How quietly, Guillén, we shook. You were there too, in the Mandingo, in the Yoruba, in the blessed epithelium of blackness and folklore. Raúl Leyva, the host, took it upon himself to remind us why you (and no other) are our National Poet; and that is that you simply have what you had to have.
They are only brushstrokes, but there was melted in an invisible rain of light, between the multicolored fabrics of the typical clothes and the seductive lullaby of a guitar or a drum, the culture of our peoples and, with "she", that unwavering will to defend the essences, despite everything, despite everything.
And we were happy to hear the words of Elizabeth Damian when she thanked the Mexicans "all smiles, all eyes". And, as if we embraced the "smelling root" and the "mystical journey" of which Lucy Maestre spoke in a poem, we were caressed by the ear (and in some ways the skin) of the medley of romantic songs performed by Bouquet’s Duo ( from Mexico) when closing the rock.
How quietly, Guillén, we shook. You were there too, in the Mandingo, in the Yoruba, in the blessed epithelium of blackness and folklore. Raúl Leyva, the host, took it upon himself to remind us why you (and no other) are our National Poet; and that is that you simply have what you had to have.
They are only brushstrokes, but there was melted in an invisible rain of light, between the multicolored fabrics of the typical clothes and the seductive lullaby of a guitar or a drum, the culture of our peoples and, with "she", that unwavering will to defend the essences, despite everything, despite everything.

This post has been written and documented by me, does not contain AI. The photos used are my property