A story behind every song

There is a story behind every song. The the melodic lilt of language, rhythmic intensity, and engaging interaction invite you to share in a journey that starts behind us, and keeps moving forward. Music disappears the moment it's played, but the stories remain. This blog is dedicated to those stories.

Amber Epp on a Cigar Factory in Cuba's countryside:

"Earlier this year, I spent three months in Cuba. Near the end of my trip, I decided I needed to get out of Havana to see some of the countryside (you'd be surprised how much of it looks like Manitoba - minus the palm trees). I took a tour bus to an area called Viñales, and on the way, we stopped at a cigar factory. Cuba is known for its tobacco - they produce some of the top cigars in the world - a Cohiba or a Montecristo can go for $50 a piece here in Canada (though it would only cost a few dollars in Cuba). We stopped in this tiny little town - I think tourist buses were the only vehicles that actually went though it. The factory itself wasn't much to look at - like most buildings in Cuba, it was more than 50 years old, and falling apart. Our group was herded inside, where we got to look at the workers from behind a fence.

A typical Cuban cigar factory

There were about 75 men and women rolling cigars - they have to make 100/day, and each one has to be perfect, or they have to start again.  They can also smoke as many cigars as they like while they're working.  I can only imagine how they feel having tourists coming in and staring at them, day in, day out.  Anyway, there is one person who works for the factory who is NOT a cigar roller - he's the entertainment. He reads the newspaper or a novel out loud, maybe plays music every now and then, and gives the workers something to think about all day. He sits on a pedestal in front of an old microphone.

Reader in a Cigar Factory - a well-maintained Cuban tradition

So realizing that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I asked the supervisor if I could sing a song for the workers in Spanish. When I started singing "Sabor a mi", a classic bolero, eyes shot up at me from around the room with delighted surprise. I sang the song with gusto, and they gave me a big round of applause when I was done. (I guess they weren't expecting a gringo to be able sing in Spanish without an accent.) Only upon leaving the building did I find out that my little song had been "broadcasted" throughout the entire building! What a great opportunity to give back to the Cubans what they had given me - amazing music!