A culture of my own :: essays research papers

A Culture of My OwnThe smell of the ocean, palm trees, and the great(p) of the salsa beats in the distance, characteristics of a beautiful gardening. But is that really what My assimilation is. As a Cuban in America, culture is much disparate than that of a island native. My culture, or should I say, the culture that my family has molded into our own, is a undischarged oneness. It may not be the same as it was one-hundred years ago, or even twenty years ago for that matter. But one things makes that okay, culture is not written, nor are you born with in. We humans are taught culture. And what Ive learn and discovered on my own is that being Cuban means numerous things to me it means music and loudness, A lot of family memories, and most definitely pride.To originate with, the Cuban culture is one of much loudness and joyous music. developing up, there was never a day that I did not rout out up to the sound of loud salsa music blaring. Or to the loud voices of my experien ce or grandmother talking. To anyone else this talking would surely be mistaken for an disceptation or fight. Cuba is where salsa music and the conga drum originated so we tend to be very prideful of this. One of the greatest salsa singer/writer was the slow Celia Cruz. She was somewhat of a hero to Cuban people seeing as though she had been a Cuban refugee, and became a great success in the U.S. Her recent passing was a devastation, not only to the Cuban partnership but to all Latinos and many Americans as well. Which brings me to family. My Mother and Aunts had grown up listening to and admiring Celia Cruz so you can only imagine their reaction to her death. Our undefiled family was in mourning. Sound kind of silly, but it was as if one of our on had passed. Like many Latin families, mine is extensive And what does a huge family mean a lot of parties, weddings, and holidays. Holidays with a Cuban family is a one of a kind experience. There is drinking, music, fun, and of cour se fights. It is certainly somewhat of a comforting chaos. This past Christmas, I spent alone with my Mother and Step- Father, and it was just now not the same.