Next Year in Cuba: A Cubano's Coming-Of-Age in America

To say that I was thoroughly moved by this book would be an understatement. I am Dominican and living in the same state and just about same town as Mr. Firmat. To read his words made me realize I wasn't alone in my feelings and struggles. I didn't come by way of the exilio but every day I look for the connections back to my island. Read this book for pleasure, read it for introspection, read it because you too are looking for the latino drums that you feel but can't explain how you once stopped hearing them.

As a young person who was born in the United States but whose parents were born in Cuba, identity has never been black and white for me--although it has always been blue, red, and white. This book crystallized so many emotions that I had felt my entire life but had never really examined. If you are 22 and have never been to Cuba, but still call yourself Cuban or if you are 60 and think if your childhood on that island paradise everyday--this book will make you laugh, it might make you cry, and it will certainly make you think. For over forty years now Cubans have been hoping for that "next year" to come to fruition, but we are still waiting. This book will make you long for "next year" like never before. Read it--you will never forget you did.

That is the question that has echoed throughout the Cuban exile community for over 40 years. As the older generation fades, the new generation continues to ask, to wonder, if the next year will finally be the year when Cuba will be free and Castro will be, and there's no other way to say it, dead.Perez Firmat and I stand a generation apart, yet reading this book, there really was no difference. The Cuban-American experience has much to do with yearning, an emotion that this book succeeded in evoking. We yearn for the Cuba we hear our relatives talk about. We yearn for the freedom of this never-seen homeland, to see the end of the tyranny. And we also yearn for this America, for the apple pie and Coca-Cola life we see and hear all around us, yet can never fully belong to.Being Cuban-American is not only complex, it is two extremes thrown together. Finding our identity as we straddle two nations is a challenge even now, 40 years later, and even to people like me, first-generation Cuban-Americans. You are forced to ask over and over again, What am I? I am not Cuban, I was born here in the U.S. But I am not American, my "Cuban-ness" is such a strong, obvious part of me it cannot be denied.Next Year in Cuba does a great job of giving an eloquent, humorous voice to this complexity. It's a great read on the Cuban-American culture, sure to give a better insight and appreciation to those wanting to know more.

Perez-Firmat's book was a humorous and poignant walk down the memory lane of any Cuban-American who experienced life in Miami. Funny and sobering at the same time, he pokes gentle fun at our blending of island culture and transplant mentality. It also makes you realize that while you do live, eat and breathe in two totally different cultures, WHO ARE YOU? WHERE DO YOU BELONG? Sometimes, sadly, the answer is NOWHERE.

Like Perez Firmat, I am as he mentions, "born in Cuba, made in the USA". I found his book not only well-written, but honest. His honesty in trying to come to terms with two cultures, neither of which he can now do without is touching and realistic.The humor and sensitivity he employs in revealing the trauma and confusion of a child going through the exile process helps define not only himself but many of us. His struggle as he grows in this country and becomes more "americanized" contrary to the expectations of the older generation is honestly expressed. This book crystalized many of my own experiences, and clarified others as to who I am and how our generation cannot completely be either Cuban or American, but must be both.