{"id":307880,"date":"2024-08-20T20:03:51","date_gmt":"2024-08-21T00:03:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/oncubanews.com\/en\/?p=307880"},"modified":"2024-08-20T20:03:51","modified_gmt":"2024-08-21T00:03:51","slug":"el-camino-del-cimarron-ready-for-prime-time","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/oncubanews.com\/en\/opinion\/columns\/it-is-not-easy\/el-camino-del-cimarron-ready-for-prime-time\/","title":{"rendered":"El Camino del Cimarron: Ready for Prime Time"},"content":{"rendered":"

He swung the machete like the branches had offended his mother. We are climbing the hill to the top, where the huge cave, <\/span>la Casa del Cimarron<\/span><\/i>, yawns into the thick forest. Before coming on this trip, Gustavo Arnavat, founder and chairman of the Cuba Foundation, repeatedly told me, \u201cI want my own machete.\u201d He said it jokingly, I think, referring to the logo designed by Miguel Barnet as the symbol of the Camino del Cimarron, but here he is, swinging that machete like it is part of his arm. Making the <\/span>camino al andar<\/span><\/i>.<\/span><\/p>\n

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It is day four of the eight-day, non-trekker-friendly version of the Camino del Cimarr\u00f3n. The Camino del Cimarr\u00f3n is a 350 km trekking trail that starts in Sagua la Grande, in the Province of Villa Clara, and ends in Cienfuegos. <\/span>I created the trail by walking the distance in 2016<\/span><\/a> to commemorate the 50<\/span>th<\/span> anniversary of the publication of Miguel Barnet\u2019s Biography of a Runaway Slave (<\/span>Biografia de un Cimarr\u00f3n<\/span><\/i>).<\/span><\/p>\n

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Writer and anthropologist Miguel Barnet with Esteban Montejo<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I designed the route by mapping the most significant places in the life of Esteban Montejo, the last surviving cimarron in Cuba. He recounted his life to Barnet during the years of interviews before the publication of the book. At the time of its publication in 1966, <\/span>Biograf\u00eda de un Cimarr\u00f3n<\/span><\/i> was as much a political statement as an anthropological or literary one.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In literary circles, the work set the standard for the testimonial novel, a genre that empowers those whose stories had traditionally been told by others.\u00a0 As a work of ethnographic anthropology, the life of Esteban made clear how slavery and freedom from slavery presented equally challenging threats to survival for a Cuban of African descent.\u00a0 Politically, the book provided a narrative in the voice of the previously powerless.\u00a0 As Graham Greene said, \u201cThere has been no book like this before and it is unlikely that there ever will be another like it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

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Esteban Montejo (1860-1973).<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I suppose Greene was right. Fifty years later I saw in the biography of Esteban\u2019s life the history of Cuba played out in his personal geography. Colonialism, slavery, the social and economic domination of sugar, the fight for independence and the neo-colonial distortions, all are dimensions of Esteban\u2019s extraordinary life. The towns where he walked and worked are still where he left them. I set out to put this extraordinary biography into the geography of contemporary Cuba; to offer travelers a glimpse of the contemporary continuity of centuries of struggle.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Engine of Economic Development<\/b><\/p>\n

From the beginning, I saw the trail as a potential engine of economic development for the towns and <\/span>bateys<\/span><\/i> along the way. Travelers searching for an experience off-the-beaten-tourist path will be able to see the Cuba <\/span>por dentro <\/span><\/i>where tourism is a rumor rather than a reality.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I had seen what had happened to the small towns along the Camino de Santiago in Spain from the 1990s, when I was one of only five or six thousand trekkers covering the 800km distance from the Pyrenes to Santiago, until now, when hundreds of thousands cover the distance every year. The towns grew. Some grew a great deal. Their populations grew, rather than migrating to the nearest urban area.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The Camino de Santiago made a difference in the lives of rural communities and their inhabitants. Since not all pilgrims stop at all towns, hard numbers are difficult to find but those who study the impact of trails on local economies agree that the smallest towns benefit the most from the creation of cultural trails. That is how I saw my walk back in 2016: as the first steps in creating a cultural path that would encourage \u201cslow tourism\u201d along regions that seldom benefited from the largess of tourist.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I realize that it is extremely unlikely that the Camino del Cimarron will become another Camino de Santiago, but that kind of traffic is not required for this Camino to benefit the rural towns along its path. And I am also aware that to make this happen, I would have to condense the walk into a more manageable format. There is a thriving culture of long-distance walkers in the world but to make the Camino attractive to most travelers, it would have to be packaged as a walk\/ride tour that would offer an off-the-beaten-track experience while lowering the bar of the physical and time requirements of a long-distance trek.<\/span><\/p>\n

Making this vision a reality was not easy but after years of persistence, we have now taken the second step. With the help of Daiquir\u00ed, an Italian travel company working in environmental and ecotourism in Cuba, we designed an 8-day tour of the Camino del Cimarron. Part walk, part ride, the itinerary follows the trail I blazed and stops at some of the towns that were most significant to Esteban in his life as a cimarron, a free worker, a patriot, and a citizen of a new nation. An intrepid group of travelers\u2014a group of Cuban Americans and Cubans living on the island– braved the June heat and rains, the <\/span>apagones<\/span><\/i> and the search for combustible to help shape the Camino del Cimarron into a cultural destination worthy of others who want to see and contribute to the lives of those living in Cuba <\/span>por dentro<\/span><\/i>. All of us were aware of the extreme difficulties currently facing the Cuban people. And all of us hope that developing the Camino will alleviate some of the difficulties for some of the people.<\/span><\/p>\n

Here are some of the highlights of the trip.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Day 1: Havana<\/b><\/p>\n

We began the tour in Havana, although the Camino starts in Sagua la Grande, because, as it was explained to me, if travelers come to Cuba, \u201cthey want to see Havana.\u201d\u00a0 We met with Miguel Barnet at the Fundaci\u00f3n Fernando Ortiz, and he spoke, with excitement, as if it were the first time, of Esteban, the book, how it came about, its impact.\u00a0 A tour of Havana included the usual tour of the historic plazas and structures as well as an introduction to the experience of <\/span>Afro-descendientes<\/span><\/i> during the colonial era. We had the opportunity to attend a conference by the inimitable Emilio Cueto on the impact of Jose Mart\u00ed in the world. Although initially I resisted starting in Havana rather than Santa Clara, the day allowed the participants to establish a framework of Cuban history and its relationship to the colonial exploitation of slave labor.<\/span><\/p>\n

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With Miguel Barnet, author of Biography of a Maroon. Photo: Julio Larramendi<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
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With Miguel Barnet, author of Biography of a Maroon. Photo: Julio Larramendi<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
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Photo: Julio Larramendi<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Day 2: Sagua La Grande<\/b><\/p>\n

We arrived in Sagua the next day, ready to begin the Camino. Yadiel, the director of the Sagua museum met us at the Hector Rodriquez, the sugar mill known as the Santa Teresa when Estaban was born in its infirmary.\u00a0 We walked to the <\/span>barrancones<\/span><\/i>. <\/span><\/p>\n

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The old customs house in Isabela de Sagua. Photo: Julio Larramendi.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u201cThey controlled the slaves by having only one way in and out of the courtyard which is, as you can see, surrounded by the sleeping areas,\u201d he points around the rectangular space. The design and architecture remain. Some of the original bricks and wood beams are still part of the structures. The residents are workers, here at the Hector Rodriquez or wherever labor is needed nearby.<\/span><\/p>\n

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The old customs house in Isabela de Sagua. Photo: Julio Larramendi.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The infirmary is also in ruins. When I first came here with Miguel, tears came to his eyes as he saw what remained of where Esteban was born. \u201cI didn\u2019t know this place still existed,\u201d he said.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We met a woman, Caridad, and her children, a thin woman nearing 70 whose ancestors lived in this same <\/span>batey <\/span><\/i>as slaves.\u00a0 She was the physical manifestation of historical continuity. She was hesitant to pose for pictures but drew her sons close did us the favor.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

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Caridad and her sons at the entrance of the infirmary. Photo: Julio Larramendi.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

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Day 3: Sagua\u2014Mariana Grajales (Flor de Sagua)\u2014Guayabo Cuartel\u2014Remedios<\/b><\/p>\n

An early wakeup call on day 3 and a quick ride to the <\/span>batey<\/span><\/i> of Mariana Grajales started us on the Camino proper. It took me hours to walk from Sagua to Mariana but we were there in thirty minutes.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Only a few ruins remain of the old Flor de Saqua mill, (renamed in the late 1990s after the mother of the Cuban patriot Antonio Maceo), as is the case for most of the mills that roared during the heyday of sugar production on the island. A grassy area now stands where the heart of the old mill stood. The smokestack juts skyward, a white monolith that begs for some <\/span>2001: A Space Odyssey<\/span><\/i> background music. To the east of the smokestack, in ruins, stands the old slave quarters, the <\/span>barrancones<\/span><\/i>, the long room, shot-gun structures, over the years reworked into living quarters before decaying into ruins. Over two hundred slaves lived here during the time of Esteban. Still visible are the ancient walls and French tiles brought in by the owners who took over after the war of 1895.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He ran from here. From where we are standing now. Twice. They caught him \u201clike a cochinito\u201d the first time, tortured and shackled him. The second time he made it out, for good.<\/span><\/p>\n

The once magnificent casa mayoral<\/em> sits next to the baseball field on the west of town, in ruins. Locals call it \u201cla casa francesa,\u201d indicating that at some point the owner of the mill was of French origin.<\/span><\/p>\n

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Church of Sagua La Grande. Photo: Julio Larramendi.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

We too have a Mariana in our ranks. Mariana Gaston, one of the historical figures in the long struggle waged by many of us in the extensive Cuban diaspora to incorporate ourselves into contemporary Cuban history. One of the creators of Joven Cuba, a member of the Areito editorial group, and one of the founders of the Antonio Maceo Brigade. Mariana has traveled to Cuba, since 1973, hundreds of times. Still, she has never been on a trip like this.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We walked down a sometimes shady dirt road from Mariana Grajales to Unidad, another <\/span>batey<\/span><\/i> that used to service a sugar mill back in the day. The six-kilometer walk took us through glowing fields of cane and sparsely populated cow pastures. Tocororos1<\/sup> provided the musical background.<\/span><\/p>\n

At Unidad, I asked the men sitting in the shade of a ceiba if any artists lived in the town. \u201cWe had a good artist,\u201d said the one sitting on the ground, leaning back on the tree. \u201cbut he\u2019s gone. Left.\u201d We all knew he meant left the country. \u201cBut here comes the art teacher at our school,\u201d he pointed with his chin at a thin young man in a white shirt coming our way. \u201cHe\u2019s pretty good,\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The young man is an artist, \u201cpero no tengo la academia.\u201d And in town there is also a woman who weaves interesting boxes and wall art of straw and other materials. He gave me his number. \u201cNext time a group comes, and I know about it, I\u2019ll text you so that you can your friend can put out your work. Who knows, you might sell something to folks like these,\u201d I nodded behind me where my troupe rested and drank water under the ceiba talking to the townspeople.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

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Mariana receives the blessing at the Cabildo Kunalumbo. Photo: Julio Larramendi.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

One of our intrepid travelers is the famed photographer Julio Larramendi.<\/a><\/strong> He is busy taking pictures of the people and places. He pointed the camera at three children playing in the street while the mother talked on the phone. One kid saw him and ran towards his house. \u201cMama, change my clothes. There\u2019s a man taking pictures of us!\u201d Erick, the designer par excellence of our project website<\/a><\/strong>, is capturing it all on camera.<\/span><\/p>\n

The waiting <\/span>coche de apoyo<\/span><\/i> took us to the foot of a small hill leading to the hacienda of Fernando Yanes. When I met Yanes, during the first walk, he told the tale of his ancestor, Pedro Y\u00e1\u00f1ez. According to Fernando, Pedro \u201chad slaves. Four or five women and a couple of men. The property was pretty much the same, maybe bigger, going down to the road. I think he had some sugar down in the flat lands and tobacco up here. Two of his slaves took off one day and became <\/span>cimarrones<\/span><\/i> together. Y\u00e1\u00f1ez figured they\u2019d head to some <\/span>palenque<\/span><\/i> nearby, but they didn\u2019t even get that far. <\/span><\/p>\n

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Kunalumbo Cabildo. Photo: Julio Larramendi.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n