Un Cubano en el Infierno [A Cuban in Hell]

Pix credit and video (Facebook) here

 

Lily Rodriguez posts some interesting and humorous takes on the contemporary Cuban experience in Cuba which she posts to social media. A recent post was particularly relevant to my work on the normalization of misery in Cuba (Cuba and the Constitution of a Stable State of Misery: Ideology,
Economic Policy, and Popular Discipline Economic Policy, and Popular Discipline), the fundamental insights of which Lily Rodriguez captured brilliantly. Its underlying semiotics more brilliant still.

The short video is worth watching. Its text follows here in the original (Cuban) Spanish and in English that can capture only the gist and not the subtle tonal and inflectional undertones.  It is about inversions and the undertones of ideologically relevant language. In Cuba one has at least reached an ironic version of Nietzsche's transvaluation of all values (Umwertung aller Werte)--only they appeared to go in an unexpected direction. . . . or an updated Orpheus in the Underworld with a tad more bite.

Here is a rough transcript with an English translation.

Se muere un cubano y llega al infierno. Le dice el diablo: "Bienvenido." Dice el cubano: "¿Cómo es la película? ¿Puedo coger el infierno que yo quiera?" "¿¡De verdad!?" "Pues yo quiero visitar el infierno americano, el del diablo americano." [American style rock in roll plays in the background]. Lleg al infierno americana y le recibe  al asistente del diablo americano. “Goood evening and welcome to hell” [spoken in a terribly accented Cuban effort to speak English]. El Cuban le dice, “¿tu no habas español?” “Si” Pues ¡entonces hable me en eapañol! ¡Por eso no nos entendimos. . . que polaco infierno americano!!!!

[the american devil’s assistrant then says] Este infierno americano tiene grandes dificultades — eso, tener silla eléctrica, cama con clavos  y diablo azotarte de diez horas, se dice. "Tumba, eso voy echando." Sigue caminando y llega al infierno Español [Spanish style music plays in the background]: lo recibe el asistente del diablo español. "¡De puta madre, macho!" Habla con el asistente español. Este infierno español tiene dificultades: tiene silla eléctrica, cama con clavos, te azota diez horas seguidas. "¿Ven acá, mi hermano, aquí todos los infiernos son iguales?” [le dice el asistente--] “Todos.” todos."

Se sienta debajo de un árbol. Mira por una loma, hacia abajo ahí, y ve un ranchón,  lleno de música, vacilón, borrachera, tremenda cola para entrar, y un letrero que decía: "Infierno cubano." Eso parece que esta bueno. Tronco de cola — tronco moreno para  abrir la puerta y le dice el cubano, “Vamos a hacerte un pregunta,” y le dice al moreno "¿hay que escanearte?" El moreno  le dice “Si.” El cubano: "Loco, qué golazo, el infierno cubano." Este infierno cubano tiene bateo, esto si tiene: eléctrica, cama con clavo, y el diablo te azota 10 horas, se dice — "¡No puede ser!" Si todos los infiernos aquellos están vacíos y mira el vacilón en la borrachera que hay aquí .” Dice el asistente, “Tuno te das cuenta, loco; estas en el infierno cubano, el infierno cubano;  con el ahorro y la solidaridad: la silla eléctrica es que no funciona, los clavos de la cama se los robaron,  y el diablo viene, firma, coge la merienda... y se va.

English translation:

A Cuban dies and lands in Hell. The devil tells him, "Welcome." The Cuban asks, "So how's this work — can I pick whichever hell I want?" "Seriously?" "Yeah — I want to check out the American hell, the American devil's spot." [American-style rock plays in the background.]

He gets to the American hell and the American devil's assistant greets him: "Goood evening and welcome to hell" (said in painfully accented Cuban-English). The Cuban says, "You don't speak Spanish?" "Yes." "Well then speak to me in Spanish! That's why we couldn't understand each other... what a screwed-up American hell!!!"

[The American devil's assistant then says:] "This American hell is no joke — it's got an electric chair, a bed of nails, and the devil whips you for ten hours straight, they say." "Damn, I'm out — moving on." He keeps walking and reaches the Spanish hell [Spanish-style music plays]: the Spanish devil's assistant greets him. "No shit, man!" He talks to the Spanish assistant. This Spanish hell is rough too: electric chair, bed of nails, whips you ten hours straight. "Come here, brother — every hell here is the same?" [the assistant tells him—] "Every single one."

He sits down under a tree. He looks out over a hill, down below, and sees a ranchón — a rowdy little roadside joint — full of music, partying, people drunk off their feet, a massive line to get in, and a sign that reads: "Cuban Hell." Looks like a good time. Long line — a dark-skinned guy running the door — and the Cuban says, "Let me ask you something," and says to the guy, "You gotta scan me in?" The guy says, "Yep." The Cuban: "Man, what a steal — Cuban hell." This Cuban hell's got real substance, this one actually delivers: electric chair, bed of nails, and the devil whips you ten hours, they say — "No way!" And meanwhile all those other hells are sitting empty, and just look at the party and the drinking going on right here.

The assistant says, "You haven't figured it out, man — you're in Cuban hell, Cuban hell: thanks to the shortages and the make-do spirit, the electric chair doesn't even work, somebody stole the nails off the bed, and the devil shows up, signs in, grabs a snack... and takes off."

This delivers better orally, and in Spanish, but even if you can't understand Spanish the visuals may be worth a quick look.

 

Pix credit here