My Redemption Song

This post was written by Kikita.

A few months ago I received an email in my inbox and all it had was a picture attached.
This picture:

Did I notice "El Gran Combo" (a group that, as a salsera, I have grown to love)? Of course not.
I only had eyes for Willy.
Immediately, I send Mami an email. There was no question as to whether we were going or not. We most definitely were.

In the months leading up to the concert, life happened. You know how it does . . . There were trips and musicals and Lucy turning 16 and milkshakes and . . . you get the picture, right?
Anyway, a week before the concert I received a reminder email.
AY CARAMBA! How could I forget WILLY??

"Mami! Willy! It's this Saturday!"
"Ay, mija, I can't go! I made plans to have a reunion with some friends from high school that night. You can find someone else to go with, si?"
I lied through my teeth, "Yeah, of course, no problem."
What to do?

I consulted with a couple of friends on the level of pathetic (adjective: causing or evoking pity, sympathetic sadness, sorrow, etc.; pitiful; pitiable) that going to a concert alone would earn you. Apparently, it's not as pathetic as I thought.
It seems there is a fine line between pathetic and cool and I just so happen to err on the side of cool. =D

So, I decided to go alone. (THAT is the key to the coolness. Deciding. I mean, I had the option to not go, but I wanted to go, so I did.)

I'm no stranger to doing things alone. I've done Disneyland by myself, dinner, the movies . . .
Come to think of it, doing things by myself is usually not that bad!

(I was bummed, nervous, and excited all at the same time.)

I was a little late getting to the venue (since I wasn't carpool), but I wasn't too stressed about it because there was no one to silently get upset with me about being late for the first part of the opening act.
I found my seat and proceeded to enjoy the music of the opening acts - standing up and dancing, of course.

I was having a great time, but I was starting to feel like the only Cuban in a sea of Latinos. So, my alone-ness was getting to me when . . .  it was time for Willy!

Every song he played, I knew. What was amazing was that every song he played I not only knew, but loved. He played my favorite NEW songs along with his older ones that still have a special place in my heart.

He even sang a duet with the late Celia about how beautiful Cuba is. They would show her singing her part on video and he would sing his as if she was right there with him. Yes, my eyes welled with tears.

As if that wasn't gift enough, Willy asked where all of the Cubans were and I realized how very NOT alone I was.

My potentially lonely evening ended up being one of the best times ever.

(So much so that I am thinking about doing this whole "alone" thing again for the next concert I want to go to.)

Then when Willy started to play his last song, I knew I was a goner.

It was my redemption song, but I knew it wasn't just mine. It was the redemption song for any and every Cuban at that concert and every one of them NOT at that concert.

It was our song of freedom.

(I admit it, I wept.)

I have spent my whole life struggling to find (and keep) the balancebetween being both Cuban and American and feeling so alone in that turmoil, as that song was playing and I looked around, I realized how many others were in that same struggle.

NUESTRO DIA YA VIENE LLEGANDO.

Como Su Ritmo No Hay Dos or What Cuban Music Heaven Looks Like

We live about an hour south of Los Angeles. (That's how you calculate distances here in Southern California; by how long it takes you in traffic to get from one place to another.)

This is a wonderful thing because that means that we can go see shows in L.A. but not have to live there. See what I mean? Win-win. ;-)

And when summer begins the first thing we do is look to see who is in concert, because if there's anything we love, it's summer concerts. (Okay, we love any kind of a live show anytime of the year, but that's not important right now.)

Imagine my surprise and delight when Amy invited me to go see Andy Garcia and the CineSon All-Stars at the Conga Room in L.A. (Okay, let's just have a moment of silence in reverence. Thank you.)

Andy.
Andy Garcia.
Who has his own category on my blog because, well, he's Cuban and he's so cool. *Ay Dios mio!*

Here's Andy on cowbell.

And yes, I took this picture.

Notice how it's close-up.

How there are no heads in front of him obscuring the shot.

How it looks like it was taken from (where we were sitting) FIVE. FEET. AWAY.

Amy invited me to go because:
1) She enjoyed his music so much the last time she saw him and
2) I'm kind of a big fan. (I know. Total understatement. Shut up.)

So we got to the Conga Room early thinking we'd have to line up and maybe push some people around to get a good seat. Okay, not really, well, I may or may not have done that, but that's not important right now, either. =D

Anyway, relieved that we didn't have to manhandle anyone and because I lead a charmed life, we were able to get two seats IN THE FRONT ROW DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ANDY and where he would be bongo-ing and cowbell-ing and piano-ing for the next two and a half hours. (Shut up. I KNOW!)

The show was fabulous. If you have not heard the CineSon All-Stars do yourself a favor and get their music or better yet, go see them live.

I was seriously in Cuban Music Heaven.
Apparently, so was Andy. *sigh*

Of course we danced! When a Cuban conga starts, who can stay in their seat? Seriously!
And being in the first row gave us lots of room. =D

"Abre que voy!"

He played some of the hauntingly beautiful music from The Lost City.

And of course, a tribute to the Master, Cachao.

We had the BEST time.

We sang-along. We laughed. We danced. We clapped. We started the conga. (=D) We cheered for a Free Cuba.

Much to my everlasting delight, he winked at us and smiled at us and at one point even stuck his tongue out at us. (I know. Shut up. I'm guessing it was a purely defensive move: "I should be nice to those two noisy Cuban women in the front row directly in front of me, lest they get a little crazy.") =D

But do you know what kept going through my mind during the entire show?

Besides, "More cowbell, por favor!"...

This Cuban man should sooo have a copy of my cookbook!  ;-)

My Big, Fat, C...

A celebration of Cu...

By Marta M. Darby

Book Preview

Let the Cuban Festivals Begin!

Hola, hola, Coca-Cola!
Kikita here, reporting live from . . . ok, not live. But here comes the full report!

This may get a bit convoluted, but it will still be fun, I promise!

Last Sunday, April 19th, a new Cuban Festival was being held in downtown LA. Of course I had to be there.
Mami & Dad were excited to go, but I knew they would probably get tired before I would, so I had hired La Sheila to come with me. Pobrecita had to cancel at the last minute, so we had an extra ticket.

I called un amigo Africano y musico, Kaima. The brave soul agreed to come and listen to hours and hours of live Cuban music. (Honestly, I think he agreed to come because he was hoping for some rico Cuban food, but that's not important right now.)

 

If you live in SoCal, you know it was the hottest day of the year so far. Bueno, we had to line up outside, but my people were troupers! They took pictures of each other and made the best of it.

The festival was held in a newly refurbished nightclub in an alley in downtown LA. Personally, I felt very cool participating in the whole thing. It was very impressive when you first walk in. Sofas to sit on, the smell of Cuban food wafting through the air, linen clothes and white hats everywhere, the excitement was practically tangible.

I could barely contain myself as I'm introducing Mami to some of my Cuban musician friends, they were soooo thrilled to finally meet "La Mama de Kikita."
I made sure Kaima had his promised Cuban food (media noche, empanada, y un pastelito) and Mami had a place to sit.

Could I have picked a more perfect place? I don't think so.

Mami, tan Cubana que es, made friends with the ladies sitting next to us. One lady imparticular happened to mention that she had a beautiful son with blond hair, blue eyes, single, and a little older than me, the mamas made the betrothal official right then and there.
Ladies and Gentlemen, meet my mother-in-law-to-be, Adriana. =D

 

After what feels like an eternity, the music starts. Mami & Dad start to dance (it was cute) and Adriana jumps in. When they start to play the classic, "El Bodeguero," Mami gets all excited saying, "I was JUST thinking of this song today!!"

A few dances later, they were done. It had been a long, hot day already and they were anxious to get home (as I had anticipated).

They left me (oh! and Kaima) to enjoy myself ourselves until the very last song . . .

. . . And then some. There was an after party, but that's about the time I stopped taking pictures and danced without stopping.

I must say, there are moments at these festivals where I am practically bursting with Cuban pride.

This one was fun, and I'm sure it will only get better as the years go on. In the meantime, it served as a lovely pre-amble to the upcoming festival this weekend. I went last year and can't wait to go again! If you haven't gone, go. If you don't want to go the whole time, that's fine. Get there in the afternoon and stay til the end. The big names are always at the end. I'm telling you, it is so worth it.

I'll be by the stage starting a conga line and celebrating being Cuban. ;-)

Pure Imagination

This was a magical weekend for my son, Jonathan (the 13 year old).  He actually became Willy Wonka.

Our homeschool drama group put on the play/musical Willy Wonka Jr.

No, seriously. He wore the purple coat and the trademark top hat in a remarkably comfortable manner.  He wielded the glass-top cane as if he had been doing it all his young life.  He totally became Willy Wonka.

And to mom and dad's everlasting relief, he even sang pretty well, too.  (*insert a heavy sigh of great parental relief here*)

The show had many delightful moments. You (obviously) had to use your imagination, but it was easy to do.

Of course, there was the chocolate river that Augustus (the appropriately stuffed gluttonous kid) fell into:

And we managed to turn a lovely (if bratty) young lady...

into a big, fat, gum-chewing blueberry... (this still cracks me up. =D)

Not to mention the army of Oompa-Loompas which I have been stressing about dressing, but who look just adorable and appropriately fussy - don't you agree?

(They glowed in the dark, too.) =D

The sets turned out wonderful. The costumes inspired. The audience was delighted.

And when he declared, "I am Willy Wonka, the greatest candy-maker of all time," it didn't take much of a stretch of the imagination for us to believe him.  ;-)

(Oh, yeah....I cried every single time he sang it. Shut up. I know. *blush, blush*)

Rockin' the house

So, Adam had a few of his buddies over the other night to play Rock Band.

The big selling point (besides "My mom will feed everyone") was....

"My mom will sooo kick butt er...do well... on vocals!"

And so they came and we played and took turns drumming and playing guitars and vocalizing. Out in the backyard, of course, with the giant screen.  (Our neighbors are no longer surprised by any of our antics. *sigh*) 

Sometime during the evening the boys decided that the vocalist had to wear The Rock Band Goggles of Death.

(How some people were talked into this by other people, I'll never know....)

But I will tell you this:
I love that these twenty-somethings still want to hang out here with us.
I love that they were so eager to have us play with them.
I love that there were no judgments, no "coolness," no tough exteriors.
We were all making fools of ourselves, singing at the top of our lungs and having a wonderful time.

Lucy and I were outnumbered ten to two, but we managed to hold our own with all those boys.
(Lucky for me, no one picked up the camera while I was wailing into the microphone, but that's not important right now. =D)

And, oh yeah..... guess who scored a 99% for her vocals?  ;-)

(Yes, sometimes I really do ROCK.)

I *heart* Willy

My son, Jonathan will be playing the title character in his school play, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Opening night is two weeks away which means it's crunch time for us and everyone here at Chez Darby has been working tirelessly behind the scenes to make the boy look good.

Which is how I found myself in the humiliating and embarrassing position of being flat on my face on a hard asphalt driveway turning colored squares into Chocolate Factory Walls. (I know. Shut up.)

Step by step:

1) Prime the canvas.
2) Pencil in design.
3) Paint in the large blocks of color (actually our crack team of volunteer moms did this part - Thank you, ladies!)
4) I went in (as humiliatingly illustrated above) with pastel chalks and added highlights and shadows.
5) Eric helped blur the edges and darken the shadows to make the stones look like, well, stones.
6) We sprayed fixative over our creation.

Oh! Look at those factory walls! (We sooo ROCK, don't we? =D)

Jonathan is working hard rehearsing his lines and his songs.

We're still adding finishing touches to the inside of the factory (you know I'll be sharing more about all this later) but right now there are props to finish and of course, Willy's beautiful purple suede coat (think Gene Wilder...)

...which I'm sewing even as we speak.

So it's All-Willy-All-the-Time around here lately. 

In fact, I even have Willy playing on my iPod as I sew.  ;-)

Yes, Willy on my iPod!  But probably not the one you're thinking of right now.... 

(This Willy features Arturo Sandoval on trumpet, but that's not important right now.)   ;-)

The Walking Legend

I know you've missed me . . . so I'm taking time out of my busy schedule to share with you.
Hi Everyone! It's Kikita!

Sometime in November I was trying to come up with a great Christmas song for the video and stumbled across a John Legend song. This reminded me of how much I liked him, so I jumped on ticketmaster and (Jesus must really love me!) HE. WAS. ON. TOUR. Without really stopping to think about it, I bought two tickets for his Friday night show in San Diego at the Rimac Arena . . .

I called Sheila (other than Cedric, who else would I have called?) and asked if she wanted to go with me, "Of Course!!"

So, the day of the concert we were running a bit late. Instead of leaving for San Diego at 4pm, we left at 5pm. No big deal. We didn't hit too much traffic . . . the concert started at 8pm, and we arrived in La Jolla just before 6pm. We had two hours before the show started, we were down the street, and we were starving.

Have you ever heard of Rock Bottom Brewery? Sheila had. She thought it would be fun to try it . . . I was eye-ing the El Torito across the parking lot, but thought, "Hey, why not? Let's try it."

We had to park in Timbuktu and walk for days before we made it to the restaurant, but we made it . . . just in time for a 30 minute wait. It was a fascinating 30 minutes with plenty of opportunities for the fashion police to give out citations. Now we were starting to get antsy. We hadn't been seated and only had about an hour if we wanted to have any kind of time to get to the concert and park. We asked and it was going to be another 20 minutes, bummed, hungry, and frustrated, we walked our way across the parking lot and into El Torito.

After being seated, we sat and sat and sat before someone noticed we didn't even have drinks yet. We opted for just an appetizer, because now all we had was 20 minutes left and that was pushing it. Worried about making it on time, we hurriedly swallowed a few mouthfuls and then walked the 90 miles back to where we had had to park.

Yes, we got confused exiting the giant parking lot, had to make a U-turn, but eventually we were back on track . . . and entering the UCSD campus? Yes, it turns out the Rimac Arena is located on campus. No problem, just follow the directions . . . What do you mean we're not on the campus anymore?

Another U-Turn.

Oh look! A Campus map! And that guy looks like he'd be going to a John Legend concert . . . and he's telling the other guy . . . so we followed those two cars. Up, and back down. U-turn. Down, then up. U-turn. It's 7:57pm and we can't breathe we're laughing so hard . . . the fools following the fool.

Thanks to the help of some nearby students, we were back on track . . . again. And it was another 10 minute drive around the campus until we finally found a parking lot with John Legend signs pointing to it.

We park and begin a quick-paced walk towards the nearest building . . . it looked like other people were heading that way, as we got close, they turned around and said it wasn't the right place.

Bummer, now what?

We found another line of people to follow . . . "Hey, didn't we see you waiting to be seated at Rock Bottom about an hour ago?" and "Hey, weren't you the ones following us?"

Yeah, check us out. We are mini-celebrities and these aren't even blog readers! ;-)

Up the hill we go . . . and around a corner . . . and . . . SERIOUSLY?!? We still have ALL THAT WAY to go? There was an audible groan from everyone we were walking with. And most of us women had the same thought:

"These are not the right shoes for this kind of walking"

But we pressed on . . . walking . . . walking . . . more walking . . . I can't even tell you how much we walked because it was never-ending.

But, because we are awesome, we made it. There was an opening act. Her name was Estelle. She sings that song with Kanye West about an American Boy . . . no, not one of my favorites, but I recognized it, so I was excited.

And then he came out. The brilliant and, apparently, humble musician.
He really is amazing. He started us with a HOLLA and ended with a GREENLIGHT and returned in a tux to tell us we are Ordinary People. He played all of my favorite songs and then some.
Despite all our walking, staying in our seats definitely didn't happen. But since the arena is small, it was worth it. I would happily do that walk in heels again for someone like John Legend.

The whole evening was only more memorable because of all the craziness that happened before hand. All the walking we had to do . . .  it really was "legendary."

For your enjoyment, here's the song that started the whole journey:

(Sheila and I would like to dedicate this post to Tamera. She had asked us to keep writing about our adventures and we are convinced that we wouldn't have had such a great adventure if she hadn't requested it first. =D)

Hay que lio!

I'm bossy.
I won't deny it.
But I think I have some good ideas and being bossy helps get my people to cooperate.  ;-)  And I'm cognizant most of the year that we will eventually be putting together a video to entertain the family at Christmas.

So when there's any kind of reunion (like this one in Miami this year), I start giving instructions and get behind the camera and just stay out of the way. 

It doesn't take much, really. These people (that I call my big, fat Cuban family) know how to have fun.

All they need is a slight push...

Or maybe just a question (with apologies to my American readers who are surely not familiar with the following)....

The first part starts with a question being debated between my sisters:

"Quien fue el que le dio a Borondongo?"

Okay, so here are the lyrics to Burundanga, sung by Celia Cruz - In case the question ever comes up.  =D

Songo le dio a Borondongo
Borondongo le dio a Bernabe
Bernabe le pego a Muchilanga le hecho a Burundanga
Les hinchan los pies
Monina
Songo le dio a Borondongo
Borondongo le dio a Bernabe
Bernabe le pego a Muchilanga le hecho a Burundanga
Les hinchan los pies
Abambele practica el amor
Defiende a tus hermanos
Por que entre hermanos se vive mejor
Abambele practica el amor
Defiende a tus hermanos
Por que entre hermanos se vive mejor
Y nos sigue
Songo le dio a Borondongo
Borondongo le dio a Bernabe
Bernabe le pego a Muchilanga le hecho a Burundanga
Les hinchan los pies
Monina
Songo le dio a Borondongo
Borondongo le dio a Bernabe
Bernabe le pego a Muchilanga le hecho a Burundanga
Les hinchan los pies
Por que fue que Songo le dio a Sorondongo
Por que Borondongo le dio a Bernabe
Por que Borondongo le dio a Bernabe
Por que Bernabe le pego a Muchilanga
Por que Bernabe le pego a Muchilanga
Por que Muchilanga le hecho a Burundanga
Por que Muchilanga le hecho a Burundanga
Por que Burundanga le hincha los pies
Hay que lio!
Burundanga!

Take a deep breath and just enjoy this...

I tell them every year on December 1st.

"Stop what you're doing, take a deep breath and just enjoy this..."

And yes, Johnny Mathis does look pretty goofy in the fez and Al Jerreau just looks happy to be there, and my hair can look like Chaka Khan without conditioner, and no, I don't believe Kwanzaa is a real holiday. (right, Sheila? =D) 

But I LOVE THIS. 

How this particular tradition began:

December 1st, 1992.  Amy Kikita and I were in the (now defunct) Warner Brothers Studio Store at South Coast Plaza and they played this on the giant screen.  My jaw hit the ground and we both stood there mesmerized.  I got the cd immediately (which of course, was the entire goal of the retailer, but that's not important right now).

And I make them listen to this song every year on December 1st to kick off the Christmas season.
And now I want to share it with you.

So, just stop what you're doing, take a deep breath and just enjoy this...

I think it's good to remember before we launch into all that happens in December that we're actually celebrating the birth of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Happy-Merry-Kwanzaa-Chanu-Mas!

Andy Garcia is a golden god.

First, I'd like to apologize for waiting over 24 hours to post, but once you hear my excuse, I'm sure you will forgive me. This is Kikita and peer pressure still works on me. :-)

A few days ago, I received and email from our blogging buddy Ziva (from Blog for Cuba - a wonderful blog and an amazing woman, but that's not important right now). As it turns out, she had an extra ticket to go see . . . drumroll please . . . ANDY GARCIA & THE CINESON ALL STARS!!

Yes, our beloved Andy does more than just act! (Speaking of his acting, he's going to be in the new Pink Panther which is reason enough to see it, but that too is not important right now)

I was honored (that she would invite me) and excited beyond all reason. When it was the DAY OF, Mami called and asked if I would stop by the house on my way to Hollywood, she had something she wanted me to take . . .

I admit, I was worried Mami was going to give me a signed cookbook that I would have to give to Andy, but that was not it at all.

You see, her camera is broken and the only camera I have is the one from my phone . . . which does not take the best quality pictures. Mami knew I was embarking on a momentous adventure, that this was a big moment in my life (as it would be in anyone's) and all I had to document it was my silly little camera phone . . . so she had gone out and bought a new camera! Not a big and intense and serious one like hers, just a cute little digital thing, but Olympus nonetheless.

Which was perfect!

Yes, it was a dark, jazz club, but I still got pictures thanks to Mami's new camera.

Ok, Andy really is a golden god. He played the bongos, the cowbell, the harmonica, the piano . . . he sang, he danced . . . and all with an ecstatic expression on his face. He introduced every song and he knew it's history. It was great! Being the good Cubana I am, I recognized every song and then had a higher appreciation for each one after getting a history lesson from Andy.

They opened with "Descarga Cachao" in honor to the great musician who is not longer with us.

They did "Lagrimas Negras." They did . . . everything! Danzon, Rumba, Mambo. All the classics.

He was FUNNY too! He sat down at the piano and said, "I'd like to play a song I wrote for a little movie I did called 'The Lost City'" HA! Little? Que humilidad! :-)

This is so hard to blog about because I don't have the words to say what an amazing and fun experience this was.

The two things that I took away from it were:

1. I think Andy is really a musician who acts. (Instead of an actor who plays music.)

2. I LOVE BEING CUBAN! I LOVE CUBAN MUSIC.

 

And let me just take a moment to tell you about the company I was in . . .

Henry Agueros and Ziva Sahl. I got there a bit late (the traffic took me 2 & 1/2 hours this time - and yes, I took the 405), but when I arrived they caught me up on the conversation. We discussed Cuban music, Cubans today, Cuban politics, Cuban music, Cuban food (Henry actually asked if I was any good at cooking with such a famous cooking mom - "Claro que si!"). I felt so cool having real conversation with such intelligent and passionate people.

(Hey you two! If you ever need a third, I'm in! And Ziva, THANK YOU SO MUCH!)

After dinner as the music started, you know I couldn't sit still, so I was up and out of my sit and dancing in no time . . . meanwhile, I was trying to take pictures for Mami to see what she had missed. Then I did something REALLY cool because Andy was doing something really cool . . .

He did a tribute to Celia! And what a tribute!

The last song of the night was "una congita." Yeah, we totally started a conga line. Would you expect anything less?

I love you, Andy. *SIGH*