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Published: July 31st 2014
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The Games People Play (Stan’s Reflections)
The Spanish word for “game” (as in baseball game, or game of cards) is “partido.” Our first month here has been filled with “partidos” of all sorts. It was great to be in a Latin American country during World Cup time and experience the intensity of highly partisan soccer fans. We also got to watch some of the friendhip series taking place here between the Cuban national baseball team and a group of U.S. collegiate all-stars. What is more fun, though, is watching Cubans at play on an everday basis. A wonderful part of the culture here is that they really do know how to play. From stickball and soccer in the streets and parks to card games and dominoes on the sidewalks, they play with great abandon and full-throated joy. There is a child-like exuberance and spontaneity that has become harder to find in our technology-saturated and performance-driven culture. Daniel Montoya, the chaplain at the seminary where we are living, embodies that creative child-like spirit; because of that he is often seen with groups of children hovering around him. At breakfast one morning, he shared with us a favorite poem from
Miguel de Unamuno: “Agranda la puerta, Padre, porque no puedo pasar; lo hiciste para los niños. Yo he crecido, a mi pesar. Si no me agradas la puerta, achícame, por piedad, vuélvame a la edad bendita en que vivir es soñar.” (translated: Enlarge the door, O God, because I cannot pass; You made if for the children. I have grown up, much to my regret. If you don’t enlarge the door, make me small, for mercy sake. Return me to that blessed age in which to live is to dream.)
The prayer of this poem seems to be answered on a regular basis here. The intense exasperation of daily struggle is balanced by an equally intense child-like revelry. Imagine 30 or so people of all ages jam packed in the back of a steaming hot and rickety “riquienbili” (a 1950s cattle truck converted into a bus with makeshift metal benches) for a 45 minute ride to the beach. Instead of complaints about the conditions, we saw 45 minutes of play-time, with everything from nursery school rhyme games (who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?) and silly movement games (tuki tuki) to risqué dance games (where a
sing-song chant calls out each person to take a turn and show off their best moves). So far we have made 6 of these less than comfortable rides with various groups, and each time, the trip there and back has been filled with creative group play and boisterous laughter. An exclamation point to our lesson about Cubans at play came when we participated in the Fraternity of Baptists’ national youth conference. Three days of worship services and workshop times were interspersed with lots of “dynamics” (their word for fun ice-breaker exercises), dancing, and rambunctious parties into the wee hours.
The word “partido” has another, more loaded, meaning, in the Cuban context. It is the word for the Party, i.e., the Communist Party. Engaging the world of the Partido, which for 65 years has directed every facet of Cuban life in the utopian hope of building a perfect society, has also become something of a game people play. Our friend Paco Rodés wrote this in an article about post-Cold-War Cuba: “We find shelter under the shade of such a grotesque play... A dangerous game begins in which language muddles the truth instead of serving it.” This dangerous game
involves players across a wide spectrum: from dissent couched in code language (doble sentido), to quiet acquiescence, to the disingenuous parroting of revolutionary slogans (motivated either by fear of suffering the consequences of dissent or by the desire to get whatever perks the Party might have to offer), all the way to authentic idealism in genuine support of the Revolution and of the Party that continues to guide the path toward perfection. It’s a complicated game, to say the least.
While we were in La Vallita last week, we had a visit one night from a Partido offical in charge of religious affairs for that region. It was quite a pleasant encounter, sitting on Sila’s patio, with summer lightning in the distance. While this Partido member is not a person of faith, he spoke with great respect and admiration for our sister-church pastor Sila and her family and their work in the community, having known them for many years. He also spoke respectfully about the U.S. He repeated several times that he respects the people of our country, but he also noted that our government is still an empire, and imperialism is a problem, fraught with abuses of power. He acknowledged that the Revolution had committed errors, but was quick to add that these errors are in the context of a people fiercely determined to construct a society based on high ideals and humanitarian values. Toward the end of our conversation, Kim, understanding a bit about the rules of the game, demonstrated a subtle, perhaps playful, way of evangelizing. She asked him if there was anything he or his family needed that we could pray for. The question caught him off guard, and he simply said no. So Kim said she was grateful for the opportunity to meet him, and that she would remember him with prayers of thanksgiving for him and his work. Even though we were sitting in the dark, I thought I could see a sparkle in her eyes. It was great to see her in her element, beautifully child-like, stepping through the small door, dreaming of the reign of God.
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