Habanera - Cuba - TT: Habanera - TA: Cuba

Latin Beat Magazine, June, 2000 by Paquito D'Rivera

(based on a true story)

It was as if going against its will, the huge ball of tire was being attracted towards the deep by the magical force of some kind of monster under the sea, and its loud protestations were the muted yellow, orange, purple, white, and red explosion with which it was dying-the waters that were now drowning it, spraying the polished surface of cars, men's sunglasses, ladies' patent-leather handbags, and the clear glass panes of thousands of windows on the buildings of the La Rampa area of Havana.

Anyone who had ever had occasion to watch the sun go down in April while taking a relaxed stroll down La Rampa in Havana, would never again be able to wash away the permanent spot that its colors leave behind in one's memory, nor could he or she ever be able to erase from memory the inaudible scream of the king of the stars as it sinks into the flashing waters of the Florida Straits.

Towards the end of the 1940s entering the "fabulous fifties," the center of action in Havana had begun to move a bit towards the Vedado sector, whose vertex was around 23rd Street, from Avenue L, dropping dramatically down hill through M, N, O, P, and Infanta Avenues, running through the panoramic storefront windows of Ambar Motors reaching its apotheosis on the fabulously foamy Malecon Boulevard by the seaside.

This piece of urban enjoyment was simply known as La Rampa, or "The Ramp," and to promenade on both sides of the wide avenue gave birth to the term "rampear," a refreshing activity, as refreshing as it was frustrating, principally due to the amount and quality of girls that would hang out there strutting their stuff, something inherent to "ramping".

During that time, at the apex of the ramping scene, the very blue Hilton Hotel was built, having a beautiful mural by Amelia Pelaez at its entrance, and the exotic Polinesio Restaurant on one side. Going down 23rd Street, the Alaska Building, the festive Cabadero Funeral Home, the Indochina Store, the Tikoa Club, Club 23, La Rampa Cinema, and over there, close to the Maracas Club, you may even bump into Matancero song writer Frank Dominguez going out of his building, where he lived nocturnally and as a Havanan for many years, or at least, listen to him playing the magic notes of Tu me acostumbraste, his most famous bolero on his "feelings" piano, from the balcony of his apartment above the La Zorra y el Cuervo Club.

Goar Mestre, the enthusiastic and visionary entrepreneur born in Oriente Province, had finally opened the huge and very modern Radiocentro Building on 23rd Street, between L and M Avenues, in front of the Reina Mercedes Hospital, at the very heart of the very hip Vedado sector, where he opened the Warner movie theater as well as radio and TV stations CMQ, the Chinese Restaurant Mandarin, some boutiques, a record store, a pharmacy, and a beauty salon, in addition to a bar and fast-food place, where the cream of the crop of Cuban arts and letters, politics and international journalism would drop by.

Due to the huge number of things going on in this huge center, the place was very busy from early morning to about 11 p.m., the time when TV programming would come to an end. At the main entrance of the station, which was located on M Avenue, there was always a security guard who was also there to provide information.

Well into the night, the last musicians of the Sabor de Cuba Band' conducted by Bebo Valdes, and vedette Rosita Fornes, the presenter German Pinelli, the trumpet player Chocolate Armenteros, Cachao and the Taicuba Trio, had finished broadcasting live a show called Casino de la Alegria.

"Hurry up, Choco, or we are going to be late for the dance at La Tropical," screamed Benny More sitting at the wheel of his beautiful Buick convertible, wearing his inseparable wide-brimmed hat that matched that golden and clear voice and his very Cuban smile.

The trumpet player hopped on the "Bennymobile" in one skip, disappearing soon down the congested traffic of La Rampa. Almost everyone else had left, except Alfredo Cataneo, the funny bald mulatto from the Taicuba trio who was as usual in a good mood, and had stayed behind talking and joking around with the security guy, when from on high on the reddish terra-cotta stairway they both saw a taxi stop in front of the station, from which a solemn-looking individual got off, wearing an outfit that would surely be worn by royalty in a faraway Asian land.

This curious character, who would walk with the aid of a carved cane with an ivory handle in the shape of a dragon's head, was wearing a white pure silk suit, bottomed up to the collar, with matching round headpiece, slippers of a very fine sole, straight mustache, and a long braid that would reach his waist.

"Damn it Tato, here comes detective Charlie Chan in person."

"Sshhhh, shut up, Cataneo, it is the Chinese Ambassador, who is coming to do the "Meet the Press" program," said the security guard as he stood up to greet the dignitary, who was already ceremoniously coming up the stairs.