Every country has its important dates. One of Cuba's is September 28, which marks the day on which the country's CDRs were founded 47 years ago. CDR stands for Comite de la Defensa de la Revolucion (Committee for the Defense of the Revolution), and every block has its own CDR. Think of it as a neighborhood watch association.

Just after the triumph of the revolution, the function of the CDR was, as its name suggests, defense. The CDR was charged with the task of monitoring its zone's activity; any suspicious behavior was to be reported. Over time, as the post-Batista government system became entrenched, the goals of the revolution were adopted and pursued by a large number of Cubans, and as external threats reduced somewhat, the functions of the CDR changed a bit. Today, CDRs continue their monitoring functions, but tend to be much more focused on addressing quality of life concerns in their communities.

Every year on September 28, the anniversary of the CDR is celebrated with a party in every neighborhood. Literally overnight decorative garlands appeared on power lines, made of inflated condoms, strips of plastic bags, and torn rags. The Cuban flag hung from balconies, and the streets were painted with "VIVA FIDEL!," "VIVA LOS CDRs!" and "FELIZ 47!" Some CDRs even managed to make printed flyers.

All afternoon the fever of fiesta was building up. Businesses closed early; radios and speakers were moved out of living rooms and onto balconies, and the volume seemed to ratchet up a few notches with each passing hour. Neighborhood kids came to ask for an egg and a potato, each home's contribution to the caldosa that bubbled in a soup pot over an improvised bonfire built on the sidewalk or right in the middle of the street. The caldosa simmered from 8 pm until it was served at midnight, ladled into cups, bowls, or whatever other containers people brought from home.

Those of us who live in the US often view Cubans as a unified lot. The US media lead us to believe that most Cubans share the same political opinion and are living under a mantle of repressive fear and silence. But as we walked through the streets of Centro habana tonight, the Communist parties proved that Cubans are--not surprisingly--as different and as varied as any other group of people. On Calle Plasencia, bachata and merengue music from the Dominican Republic beat out of the speakers. On Maloja, it's pure salsa. On Subirana, it's Usher; on Sitios, Cuban reggaeton. 80 year old woman are dancing. Bottles of homemade rum and whisky--stored in plastic Kola bottles--are passed around, each person pouring "just a tin" for himself or herself. Improvised seats are shared and stories traded. There's political talk too, of course, and no one's afraid to throw in his ten cents. It's a real Communist party, and everyone is welcome.

-Centro Habana,

September 29, 2007