I listened to Los Van Van kill the pain

When Hurricane Sandy passed over Cuba, it left an unparalleled disaster. It had been years since a meteorological event had caused such a mess. Most preferred, let's say, to hit Pinar del Rio or the Isle of Youth. The east, especially Santiago de Cuba, was a little safe; some other phenomenon made an attempt to become a hurricane, but it remained in humble puffs.

On October 22, 2012, that changed; Sandy passed and there was a resounding silence: fewer birds, the palms without a plume and a deep pain that was reflected in the eyes of every mortal who had lived through such a hecatomb.

La Maya, a town that was burned several times, is the protagonist of that song by Lili Martínez: Alto Songo, the Maya burnswas one of those places with more than three hundred houses damaged, roads and telephones devoured by the wind. A lot of pain. In the midst of that chaos Los Van Van arrived... and it was an unbeatable joy.

I don't understand how there are those who downplay the importance of culture. Music has the capacity to put quotas of energy that not even the highest coin edge can achieve. Los Van Van demonstrated that. I had the chance to present them on stage in front of seven thousand people. Some dare to add three thousand more. I was able to take pictures and talk with Yeni Valdés, see Samuel with his virtuosity, Cucurucho and Leliebre; and I was able to talk for almost fifteen minutes with Juan Formell.

I am left with a photograph that I occasionally re-post on the networks. In the photo, Formell looks, perhaps, at the crowd, climbing on the roofs of the surrounding houses. The two streets in front of the stage were a sea of people who had gone to scare away the pain, because Los Van Van were going to help us.

It was an hour and so much of concert. There are some images. They started and the joy climbed up the bodies, perhaps smeared with beer. The choruses sounded in thousands of voices that responded to Mandy Cantero's sudden arrival in the absence of Mayito Rivera. Robertón knew how to impose what they call "manana". And Lele, well, that one can with all the publics, or the publics support him. 

There is no negative tone; the sound was a marvel, the interpretations impeccable. The joy shattered all the pain of the hurricane. A food worker told me he could die peacefully. His son had seen a hurricane and heard Los Van Van in town. Hot like few others, there was not a single brawl related to the concert.

And many dawned replying La Costureraone of the hits of that time.

The years go by with their rusty load, the orchestras pass, the reguetoneros, a pandemic, and the growth remains intact. Los Van Van were able to frighten away the pain with their songs. Formell I think he was happy.

When he came out to the public, in unison and without any signal, there was an unyielding applause. Los Van Van had indeed scared away the pain of the hurricane.