The Christmas Spirit in Cuba
Photos and Text by Nester Nuñez (Joven Cuba)
HAVANA TIMES – Samuel carries his ancient name, tied to a biblical prophet and judge, with all the lightness allowed to a 10-year-old boy. But this December 24th, his name matters less than ever. The only thing that matters is fulfilling a desire that has grown in him like a hot air balloon lifting him up: he will perform alongside other children in a Christmas play at the entrance of the First Baptist Church of Matanzas.
With alabaster-white skin and eyes like fresh buttons, he bounces around as they finish applying makeup and dressing him in red satin fabrics and a large golden turban that makes him look like a character he’s seen many times on his tablet and TV: Aladdin. However, they tell him: “You are Gaspar, the Wise King who came from Asia to visit baby Jesus.”
It hardly matters whether he is Melchior or Balthasar, or whether he arrived from the moon. Under the illusion of his costume, he feels like someone different from the Samuel he is every day—the one who sometimes wakes up reluctant to go to school, who walks along the wall by the river, who loves sweets.
He asks his mom to take a picture of him because he wants to see how others will see him. He wants to confirm if he looks as splendid and noble on the phone screen as he feels in his head and heart. “You’re a Wise King,” they told him. Those are two very powerful words: King, Wise. He must have done something very good to deserve such honors. Samuel takes the small chest handed to him and finally takes his place in the Christmas nativity scene.
I don’t know if they explained to him what acting is—inhabiting the skin of his character. They must have said: “Don’t look at the audience, so you don’t get nervous. Don’t move too much. Fix your gaze on the doll; imagine it’s baby Jesus. For the world, this is the most significant birth in the last 2,000 years. You are here to welcome him and give him gifts.” But the real Samuel, a Cuban child of today, still cannot grasp the deeper meaning behind it all, no matter how much he has heard the church stories about Mary, God, and Jesus. He looks restlessly at his fellow actors, at one or two audience members, then to the side or upward.
Is he wondering what he’d do if he were truly a King or a Magician? What wonders might spring from the imagination of a good child? Christmas, to him, “represents unity and love for the whole family,” which is never insignificant, provided the words come to life in practice. By the way, his mom waves goodbye from the sidewalk and blows him a kiss.
“How beautiful everything is, isn’t it?” says a lady arriving. “It’s not snowing in Israel now, where He was born, but oh well, it’s a global tradition now.”
I see the years in her hands and the glaucoma clouding her eyes, reminding me of my grandmother. She’s a stranger who wants to talk, to be heard, to belong, to escape the solitude of four crumbling, unlit walls. I embrace her with a simple question: “What does Christmas mean to you?”
“It’s a time of reconciliation,” she says. “A time of joy, because our savior Jesus arrives. If you’re fighting with your brother, reconcile. It’s a time of peace because Christ Jesus means salvation, means peace. In fact, I’ll tell you, as someone on social assistance, I haven’t gone hungry, largely thanks to the churches, both Catholic and Protestant. For example, yesterday we had a wonderful dinner at the Cathedral. Churches have always helped because it’s God behind it all; it’s His hand providing the food. Today, there’s even a stew feast here at noon, for anyone who wants to join.”
She hands me a simple little paper with printed letters, distributed by a kind girl with Down syndrome. “Didn’t you get the card they’re giving out? It explains everything about Christmas.” I read: It is light, love, joy, grace, peace…
“Yes, the fruits of the spirit. Goodness, kindness, patience… That’s from Galatians, the fruits of the spirit. I know because I’ve done some deeper Bible studies.”
The world would be a better place if the teachings of all religions materialized in daily life, but humanity is imperfect, and grace lies in the process of approaching the dreamed ideal, conveyed through words, I suppose.
A vendor selling plastic bags seizes the opportunity presented by the gathering of people admiring the nativity scene. She sits in plain sight at the foot of the church steps. A plastic bag and a heart can both be filled with so many useful things! Perhaps sales will go up.
“In the first 300 years of Christianity, Christmas wasn’t celebrated. In early Christian religion, the birth of Jesus wasn’t significant, because what mattered most was that Jesus died for humanity’s sins and resurrected. That’s Easter, the most cherished celebration for the people,” says Orestes Roca Santana, the church’s pastor.
According to scholars, for early Christians, the important message of Jesus was the imminent arrival of God’s kingdom. There was little interest in commemorating specific events or moments of their teacher’s life.
“Christmas lasts 12 days. It begins on the afternoon of the 24th, which would be Christmas Eve (for us, the day starts at midnight, but Hebrews counted the day from sundown) and ends on January 6th. Liturgically, that’s called Epiphany, a Greek word meaning manifestation, and in the West, it celebrates the visit of the Wise Men to Jesus,” Orestes explains.
Epiphany is the revelation of Jesus to the pagan world through the visit of the three Wise Men, who, according to tradition, represent Europe, Asia, and Africa. They offer gifts: gold (the little chest given to Samuel), frankincense, and myrrh, symbolizing majesty, sanctity, and immortality.
“Christians believe that God becomes human in the figure of Jesus, in the figure of a child. For that reason, we celebrate Christmas as the mystery of God’s incarnation into humanity. This makes Him a close God, one who is with us, who was present in the figure of Jesus. By becoming incarnate, and by us being made in His image and likeness, we see His image, the tangible, visible image of God, in every human face,” says the pastor.
God in every human, he says. Then the old man sitting on the bench waiting for the soup, the same man who can only survive on alms… And the one who beats his wife, the one who imprisons those who demand respect for their rights, the one who fears, the one who runs away… the one who has nothing material because he gives everything away… Is the pastor saying that we are all God? Since I don’t share my thoughts with him, he continues speaking:
“Christmas is the celebration of the birth of a child; it has a lot to do with family and is very colorful. Unfortunately, this Christmas spirit has been distorted by commerce, and in many places, it has lost its religious significance, becoming merely an end-of-year celebration where people exchange gifts and well-wishes, ignoring the fact that the story of Christmas also has a tragic side—it’s not just about joy.
When we read the Bible, we see that it’s not a story solely of beautiful, joyful things. It’s the story of a couple who had to leave their home, due to an emperor’s decree, and go to another place. When they arrived, there was no suitable space for them, and the mother had to give birth in a stable, with all that implies—being born where cows feed. People imagine it as beautiful, and in the postcards, it looks clean and hygienic, but in reality, it wasn’t like that. The first to worship him were shepherds, the lowest rung of the social ladder. A couple and a child who had to flee to Egypt because the king wanted to kill them. And when the king found out that the child had escaped, he ordered the killing of all male children under two years old. In other words, it’s a story of deaths, of parents weeping—a tragic tale.
There’s a date, December 28th, which has also been distorted: the Day of the Holy Innocents. Culturally, it has become a day for pranks and jokes under the guise of innocence, but that innocence initially had nothing to do with being foolish, as it’s understood now. What it commemorates are those children who died innocently, without guilt, and were killed. In English, it’s clearer because in April, there’s a day called Fool’s Day, a day for jokes, but in the Spanish-speaking world, we’ve taken a truly tragic celebration and turned it into something to laugh about—it’s been distorted to the extreme.
Still, the festive spirit must prevail, joy must rise above all, despite the tragedies and the commercialization of Christmas, especially in other countries, though this is reaching Cuba as well, even amid the crisis. Share a meal together, if you can, whatever there is to eat.”
The yucca in the soup remains hard, but it’s our yucca. Steam rises from the bowls, and the hands of both the hungry and those who are not accept the food with gratitude. There, I see the true ceremony of communion, and I begin to imagine that in every one of those faces is God. Samuel takes off his magician and king costume but remains both.
There are no mirrors in the room to see my own face, so I search within—perhaps in my memories, perhaps in my chest. I think of those children with the rooster and of Rosy cooking with firewood under a roof after months of living on the streets. What do they see in Christmas, and what do Cubans feel? “Friends and family,” they say. How many emotions in those two words. How much pain and how many farewells in recent years… I’ve only been able to see and hear my granddaughter’s first laugh through WhatsApp.
“I believe there is a thirst for spirituality among the Cuban people that has yet to find its full expression,” says Orestes. “Evidently, when you face material shortages, you need to eat, to feed your children—that’s the priority. But I think that despite the hardships, people thirst for faith. Many don’t realize it, but they are seeking something that transcends them, something beyond the day-to-day. In Matthew 25:34, Jesus says to his disciples: ‘Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.’”
Justice and living in the present, I tell myself as I return home. Then I head to meet my daughter, the only one who remains nearby, eager to embrace her tightly. When I do, I will feel as though I am embracing everyone who is alive. Peace and love, brothers and sisters. Peace and love. The Christmas spirit.
First published in Spanish by Joven Cuba and translated and posted in English by Havana Times.