Undergraduate /
"Especial" - Rice supplement essay. [4]
The quality of Rice's academic life and the Residential College System are heavily influenced by the unique life experiences and cultural traditions each student brings. What perspective do you feel that you will contribute to life at Rice?"Especial"I knew she trusted me, but I still wondered why my mother had asked eight-year old me to go to that place alone, making me ride the horse carriage for almost an hour. Although the door was ajar, I knocked tentatively, not sure of what to expect. A loud "entra!" gave me permission to go in. I pushed the door slightly, and through a thick cloud of smoke I saw a group of men sitting at a round table, excitedly playing dominos. The room suddenly grew silent as I stepped in. They were drinking black coffee, and one of them had a big cigar between his lips. The latter fit my mother's description, as he seemed to be the oldest. I moved toward the shadowy man, but could not help lowering my head as a chilling, bemused smirk spread across his face. I remembered my mother's warning to be as quiet as I could. "I was wondering if you have any powdered milk?" I whispered. He chuckled humorlessly and nodded. I gave him twenty pesos for a little black bag, one that contained two weeks' worth of the scarce supply Cubans desperately sought. The secrecy, of course, was due to a high demand for milk and the utter lack of supply. My mother did not want me to expose our supplier by asking him for milk in front of other people. It was not that there was no money; there was no food - period.
The USSR fell, and so did Cuba. During el período especial, or the Special Period, poverty was extreme. Lines at the bodegas and placitas for rationed food Cubans could purchase with la libreta, or rationing booklet, went around the street corners, making the people appear to be part of a large, hungry snake. To make matters worse, dengue reemerged in Santiago de Cuba in 1997, a fever I was lucky to survive. The government could not properly supply hospitals and schools. Teachers counted our textbooks every day, and notebooks, pencils and erasers were to stay at school. I once lost my eraser and had to immediately pay the school back. Nevertheless, education is a high priority in Cuba. Scantrons were completely foreign to me five years ago, because in Cuban schools all assignments, quizzes and tests were in essay-form and handwritten. In some ways the objective tests I have taken in American schools have limited my opportunity to show that I appreciate different perspectives and different opinions on certain topics. Regardless, the United States has more equipment available for students than I ever dreamt possible. In a recent biology lab, we were required to use microscopes. When I entered the classroom, I saw a whole array of these instruments, and I recalled how I was not allowed to touch them in my mother's school. Now I was required to use them! I itched to touch one, but when I looked around, I noticed how blasé my classmates were about this requirement that so excited me.
Although it was fatiguing, el período especial did force Cuba to interact with the rest of the world, by shifting its economic focus from the Soviet Union to the vicissitudes of tourism. A whole new world opened for Cubans, new markets and even new music that revitalized a lethargic nation. The old, classic music never left, however. Salsa, danzón, merengue and the son, the most Cuban of all types of music, with the claves, maracas, and drums, were merely modernized. Music is everywhere; rhythm is the soul of Cuba. During the carnivals of Santiago de Cuba, vendors set up kiosks and sell delicious, though unhealthy food, while their cassette players blare at full volume and the attendees dance. In 2003, the first and last carnival of this sort I ever attended, completely dazzled me. I shared food, laughed at old jokes and pretended to know how to dance with people I had never met. "Extrańos familiares", I called them. Later, I joined my neighborhood's "conga", an event that means fun to every Cuban. Although the line started only a few blocks away, the sound of the Chinese trumpet and the traditional conga drums carried the tune and called to passersby to join in. In Santiago the electricity comes and goes every four hours, and there really is not much to do when it is dark and there is no power, so the "congas" always brought such joy. Adults and children interact, and everybody learns everything about everyone else in the neighborhood. Each block becomes a small community. We all depended on each other, trading food and clothes, always looking out for one another.
In suburban neighborhoods near my American home, I have observed people click on their garage door openers, park their cars inside, and fail to see the face of the person living right next door. Americans actually have to make an effort to talk to others and to establish relationships. I come from a society where even if I had been inclined to be alone, I could not have pulled it off. Not only were all aspects of my life wrapped around other people who lived near me, but also the Comité de Defense de la Revolución, or the Revolution's Defense Committee in each neighborhood forced us to interact. In the United States I do not know my neighbors, not even their names! While up to three families can live in one house in Cuba, most of my friends here have never even shared a bathroom, much less a bedroom. Until two years ago I still shared a bedroom with my mother, and my American friends seem baffled by that information. Life in a dormitory or college is unusual for them, but it is normal for me. I would be thrilled to be part of the friendly closeness of communal life at Rice. While I am not athletic and would probably not be able to help my college win the Beer Bike Race, I nevertheless would want to be as active as I possible could be in my college and in the larger Rice community.
Because I was denied so many opportunities to grow in Cuba, I want to expand my horizons and reach places my family never dreamed possible. I intensely appreciate the academic freedom American schools enjoy, and I can not wait to feel supported by other people who share the same passion and interests that I do.
What do you think? Give suggestions!