A night in the Yellow Submarine in Havana

It’s 5 PM and still sunny, 90 degrees fahrenheit with an equally as high humidity percentage, my constant reminder that it’s mid-August and peak hurricane season in Cuba. I have a hyper-awareness of the fact that I’m always blanketed in a layer of moisture, equal parts sweat and bug spray, because most of the local Cubanos seem to never be. I think I am actually finding the heat comforting, since it’s a consistent factor on this trip, or I’m just feeling the side effects of extreme dehydration from my constant state of sweating. To ensure I don’t pass out, I take periodic breaks in between the walk of several blocks from the Casa Particular I’m staying at to the edge of suburban Havana – the location of a rock venue I saw in my “Lonely Planet” guide book.

The slight pale mustard yellow tinge and classic Beatles font of the sign that reads Submarino Amarillo (Yellow Submarine) make the venue sitting on the corner of Calle 6 and Calle 18 universally recognizable. I approach the entrance, and the perfume of humidity mixed with cigarette smoke waft my nose as I pass a group of adults of mine and my parents’ age hugging, chatting, and greeting each other with a kiss on the cheek.

There is a small flight of stairs strategically designed to make you descend down to swinging doors that lead into the dimmed, air conditioned venue. I pay the 2 CUC entrance fee charge, and pause as my eyes adjust from the bright day to the underground cave. Immediately, I am fascinated by the the fact that there is a TV screen further back in the venue playing a Rolling Stones live set. I then come out of a trance to realize that I’ve made my way to the second row of small tables and chairs placed in front of the large TV set that sits to the right of the main stage.

After my eyes have adjusted, I notice that the lyrics to “Hey Jude” and pop-out 2D strawberries garnish the walls of the tightly-packed venue. This rock venue is more of a cinematic experience as goers watch and listen to a mix of music videos and live sets of shows that are being played on the monitor. The people in the venue enjoy and react to the videos on display like they would any live event — singing, swaying, and stomping or clapping along. A woman standing stage left waves her hair side-to-side and shakes her bangled wrists to the music, her loud outfit and statuesque height make her an unmistakable Bianca Jagger doppelgänger.

I sit back and take in the energy of my neighbors as I sip a cerveza and enjoy warm, cheese-stuffed, fried plantains. Then, the TV transitions from a music video to display a recognizable animation of four faces – one with rounded glasses – framed in red circles venturing through psychedelic drawings…In the town where I was born/Lived a man who sailed to sea…

My neighbors clap to the cheery rhythm and I can’t help but grin extra wide as everyone, with varying levels of bilingualism, begin to chant in tune:

We all live in a yellow submarine

Yellow submarine, yellow submarine

The audio and video fade out as the main stage becomes lit up to reveal the headliners of the night, Habalama. The band is comprised of both young and aged faces, connecting to the curated setlist of mixed classic rock hits that range from: ZZ Top, No Doubt, The Outfield, and of course, The Beatles. There are three female singers who switch interchangeably from back up vocals to lead. There is obvious appreciation from the crowd in the concerted effort to mimic exact vocal range to the classic tunes. The family seated to my right maintain their high energy. A young teenager and father dance and sing along in sync – the son taking cues from his father in anticipation of beats to songs he doesn’t recognize. An older couple dressed in classic 80’s rock n roll clothing, which are reminiscent of old photos of family members and unpicked t- shirts from second hand stores in high school, dance to each other’s energy on the dance floor.

Left to right: Ruben Ruiz (rhythm guitar), Moises Ferrer (lead guitar), Luis Ramirez (bass and musical director)

During an intermission, founding members of Habalama, lead guitarist, Moises Ferrer, and bassist and musical director, Luis Ramirez, graciously told me about some of their experiences in their time as a band, outside the venue in the warm Havana afternoon. Moises, in his early twenties, and Luis, an older gentleman, established the band back in 2009, “when he was a kid, and I was a young guy” Luis shares, following up with a chuckle. Though Luis doesn’t explicitly share his age, he provides hints, specifically when he reminisces, “I lived in the time when rock n roll was forbidden in Cuba…we would have to go offshore to try to catch radio waves from the Russian radio stations with our big antennas. It was very difficult to get that music, so I would hear it on the radio then run to my house, grab my guitar and try to remember and recreate the notes and chords. For example, I remember doing that when “Toto” came out”.

Cuba is just catching up on what they have been excluded from – listening to rock music was considered a crime for decades, punishable by incarceration. But, in the year 2000, Fidel Castro himself sanctioned the creation of a public park named Parque John Lennon where a bronze statue of John Lennon on a bench immortalizes this profound event. This park is situated next door to Submarino Amarillo and covers a whole block of space. There is a paid docent there to protect and watch bronze John Lennon to make sure that nobody steals his removable glasses when taking photos (which I did jokingly remove not expecting them to actually be removable, where I met the nice woman who explained to me that her job was to watch the statue). After the establishment of this statue, it has a been a slow inclination towards a cultural welcoming of rock music into the mainstream. The establishment of the Submarino Amarillo in March 2013 was a step towards that integration, as its a government-sanctioned cultural center. In March of 2016, the first major rock concert happened, and it was a free performance by one of the largest, enduring international rock bands, The Rolling Stones.

I ask why Habalama’s set list is comprised of only covers, and if the band has any original music. Moises fesses that he has delved into songwriting and has, “some stuff, but it’s mostly instrumental.” Both Moises and Luis stress that it’s extremely costly to record original music in a professional studio, as it can be in the United States – plus, to even play classic hits is still just as gratifying, considering this music is not readily available. The general public does not have access to rock music “in official stores, there are no rock CDs, heavy metal stuff, you won’t find that,” Moises shares, to which he follows up with, “I have connections, I made friends and through them I get new stuff. A lot of other people have music on USBs, too”. The reasoning for this is mostly political, having to do with the United States-imposed embargo placed on Cuba in the late 1950’s and that is still in effect today. Contrasting this DIY era that people are experiencing in the United States, I.E. “SoundCloud rappers”, media and internet accessibility as we know it in the United States is drastically different in Cuba and is not casually integrated into society. From what I observed and experienced during my summer in Cuba, music is mostly found in playlist forms on USB chips that people plug into their TV speakers, there are less than ten TV channels, and internet is only accessible at public Wi-fi parks and hotels.

Besides the Submarino Amarillo, there are only two other venues sanctioned by the government as cultural arts centers that will host rock bands. One of these venues is La Fábrica de Arte Cubano, and the only other one was closed at the time because it was under restoration, Moises shares. Even then, La Fábrica de Arte Cubano is a triple-storied factory turned arts center fit with a theater room, a concert venue space, a restaurant that was visited by Anthony Bourdain, and several white cube concept gallery spaces. The cramming of so many titles into one building made for an overstimulating experience when I went. This makes the Submarino Amarillo a special venue where people who love to listen and experience rock and roll and its culture, can come enjoy it with others who do too. Moises and Luis inform me that there is a lack of venues that will host rock bands, since the genre isn’t mainstream. So, I ask if there is somewhat of a DIY culture, if there are makeshift venues like in the U.S. scene where shows occur in people’s houses or garages. Luis shares that for this scene, “there is none of that culture. That’s for reggaeton”. He elaborates to provide further insight that in comparison to the mainstream, “salsa, rumba, timba, son and now reggaeton, rock is always on the outside — and we are proud of it”. The Submarino Amarillo is spatial and sonic assertion of the rock ‘n’ roll scene in Cuba, where appreciators can come and participate. Someone peeking out of the main entrance motions at Luis and Moises, “oh, we have to go back now,” I thank them for their time, and they descend back into the venue, embraced by the yellow doors as they enter.