Who said men don’t cry? And yet yes, men cry, nothing could be more normal as a reaction, woman or man, it doesn’t matter. It’s like an expression of the soul when faced with a situation that arouses an emotion, positive or negative, that appeals to us personally, sometimes without us really knowing why.
When I see René Lévesque again, on the evening of the referendum, May 20, 1980, telling us: “If I understood you correctly, you are saying: See you next time,” I cry. Moreover, in a video that can easily be found on the web, we see this father holding his child in his arms, wiping away a tear. It’s not me, but it’s just like it.
I always cry when I hear Celine Dion sing: “I would like to reach the moon/I would even like to save the Earth/But above all, I would like to speak to my father…” However, I hated my father.
I cry again and again when I hear Claude Gauthier sing his “most beautiful journey”: “I am ten children at the table/I am from sub-zero January/I am from America and France/I am from unemployment and exile /I am from October and from hope/I am from a race in danger…” Of course, I sometimes hide so as not to be seen crying, so as not to have to explain my moods.
I also remember crying when the nurse handed my newborn daughter back into my arms, swaddled in her diapers. It was not my first child, however, but I was moved by this skin-to-skin contact with this newborn baby who had just come out of his mother’s womb by cesarean section.
I, who am not Cuban, my eyes get wet when I hear the Cuban national anthem, Bayamesa, composed in 1867, at the time of the Ten Years’ War against Spain. I also cry when I listen to the song composed by Carlos Puebla, Hasta siempre, Commander, on the occasion of Che’s death. Or a more recent song by Alexander Abreu from the group Havana D’Primera, I say Cuba : “ Cuban soy de pura cepa/Y mis raices las defiendo con la vida/Cubano soy y donde quiera que me encuentré/Cantaré a mi Cuba querida » (I am Cuban by birth/And my roots, I defend them with my life/I am Cuban and wherever I am/I will sing my beloved Cuba). These words resonate with me, no doubt because I am Quebecois. A French person certainly does not react in the same way when listening to these words which express all the pride of being Cuban.
Closing of the Havana Jazz Plaza Festival
This Sunday the Havana Jazz Plaza Festival ends in style. The well-known jazzman Roberto Fonseca, who could be seen and heard at the magnificent Jazz Café in Havana and to whom we owe this festival, has put together a closing show, called Apparatus, with the participation of 21 dancers from the Ballet Nacional de Cuba. Classical ballet subverted by jazz, with Fonseca on piano and a sublime trumpeter who gives goosebumps. Strong emotions ahead… and maybe even a few tears. It promises.