Un Homenaje a Juan Luis Guerra: If you're wanting to learn about Latin music here's a start

Juan Luis Guerra, if you haven't heard of him, is a musical giant in Latin America.  He might even possibly be equal to what Michael Jackson meant to pop. His concerts are replete with adoring fans--from the smallest of dancing three year olds to the oldest of grandparents.  At Jet Set, a club I went to on my last trip to Dominican Republic, at the mere sound of one of his hits the dance floor overflowed with excited people, loosing themselves in collective memories while singing the lyrics.

Whenever his name comes up I'm ashamed to admit that I always include the story about the time an old friend Uziel Colon played with him at Berklee College of Music. Hey. Don't judge, it's my distant claim to fame. That someone I knew played with this man who represents so much to so many of us.

His  music brings me close to the heart of Dominican Republic, even when I'm an ocean, an entire adolescence and an upbringing away.  Even when I'm tempted to think I am not all that Dominican, he reports what is going on at the other side of my mother's journey. His music covers everything from immigration to love to the desire to come to the United States to poverty to lack of democracy to Dominican patriotism. When I hear, "Ojala que llueva cafe en el campo,"I imagine that its safe to assume that thousands of other Dominicans/Dominican-Americans are singing it with me; conjuring up images of the poor Dominican Republic's outskirts and their desire for the most basic of Dominican goods--or not--maybe just enjoying the sound and remembering the early 1990's.

  I image that he might elicit the same feeling for me as Johnny Cash might for some or Nas or Nirvana might for others. Just as the mention of truly American themes or urban-American themes elicit a sort of catharsis and nostalgia for one's country, one's experience, identity and brings us back to the core of our childhood.

I, for instance, remember the checkered drape that covered the table our TV sat on in the living room. And myself, dancing around the living room in my underwear at five or so, listening to Juan Luis Guerra on Univision*. 

 In similar ways to when Johnny Cash mentions "trains" or boxcars" or "railroads" and cigarettes or as The Arcade Fire might help others recall memories of a suburban adolescence through mention of milestones such as learning to drive ("In the suburbs I learned to drive/ And you told me we'd never survive/Grab your mother's keys we're leavin' ). In ways similar to when Nas utters the words "freedom" or talks about the streets and ponders, "If I ruled the world, I'd free all my sons." At the mention of food stamps and watching parents struggle, some of us remember our parents together with Eminem in "Loose Yourself." 

When Juan Luis Guerra prays that "cafe" and "yucca" and "te" would rain, and especially when he prays that all the children in the "campos" could sing that coffee, yucca and tea would grow from the ground, I am stirred. 

 His songs are political in nature and he has written some of the most beautiful romantic ballads I've ever heard. In Burbujas de Amor Juan Luis Guerra uses aquatic themes, as he expresses desire to decorate her waist with shells and make silhouettes of love under the moon. In Visa Para un Suen~o he describes the desperation of wanting a "visa" to make our dreams come true, telling of the perspective of the United States that exists in DR. In El Niagara en Bicicleta, Guerra tells of the kind of treatment he received in the hospital and, in doing so, criticizes the Dominican medical system:

They sent me to a hospital for people, supposedly

Don't tell me that the doctors left, don't tell me that you don't have an anesthesia, that the alcohol was consumed and that the thread for surgery was used for a mantel. Don't tell me that the stethoscopes are having a party and that the x-rays rotted away.

A few years ago, with the release of Para Ti, Juan Luis shows a more spiritual side as he sings Cancion de Sanidad,

And most recently, he tells of world travels to Paris and to Africa where he brings this "Bachata" just to dance with you. 

A man after my own heart, studied philosophy and literature at the Universidad Autonoma de Santo Domingo, has performed and composed songs with dozens of artists, has won dozens of awards from five Latin Grammy's in one night in 2007 to Grammy's to Billboard Music Awards. A guitarist, singer, composer; a man of wisdom and insight, who represents our country well. Juan Luis Guerra, te queremos. 

By the way, for those of us States-side who have been wondering all of our lives but singing along anyway, What exactly is la bilirrubina que le sube a Juan Luis Guerra when he sees her*? La Bilirrubina de Juan Luis Guerra.  It's kind of scary....

*Univision: The main Spanish TV station that every Latin person in America relied upon for news, soap opera's, music and counsel. Univision, as in, "Annery, on Univision I heard that you have to wash the lettuce thoroughly, maybe even with soap because there's bacteria in it that can make you sick."

*Juan Luis Guerra sings a song about how his bilirubin goes up everytime he sees her. I think most of us sang along to the catchy and beautiful song, but never really knew what it was. Apparently it's a heavy medical term.