Original subtitles

In the first half of the 19th century the island of Cuba was still a Spanish colony. This Antillean country got rich on the backs of slaves from Africa. The customs and beliefs of the Africans fused with Hispanic traditions and the cultural mix engendered a new nationality. The new people longed for independence and performed heroic deeds to achieve it. They say Ochón, the goddess of love, was born where cool water springs from the earth. No one can say who her father was. But her mother was like sweet, golden honey that all men liked to taste. Changó, Oggón, Babalu. Ochón grew up wild and alone. Her body undulated like that of a snake. Her delicate hands imitated the flight of the birds. Her waist was like a river, meandering from side to side, trying to find the surest path. Her skin was golden because she lived from honey and sunshine. The other women were envious and became jealous because their husbands wanted to drink the honey from her flesh. But Ochón just laughed and kept on dancing. Her clear, fresh voice blended with the mountain breezes and with the drops of rain falling on the forest canopy. One day, when she was showering in water from banana leaves, she was captured by white men dressed in clothes of iron. They put her in a bird cage and carried her across the ocean. Ochón wanted to fly away from her prison but she was tightly bound with yagua tree roots and malanga stalks. And that is how she came here to this faraway island. They brought her to the square to sell her as a slave. A rich woman dressed in red arrived. But it was no woman. It was Changó in disguise. He paid eight coins for her. Then he carried her across the mountains. Changó drew his sword and became a man once more. And Ochón danced for him the entire night. He showed her how to don the guise of a white person and thus deceive the men dressed in iron. He anointed her with so much honey that she became dark brown. He crowned her with emeralds and rubies. He dressed her in a white tunic embroidered with snow and a mantel of gold, just like a queen. He gave her an olive-green daughter to suckle and to sing for her always. Give me power and wealth, O Virgin. I want a white man who loves me, who will make me his wife. O, noble Queen. Never forsake me, O holy patron. I vow to keep your shrine bedecked with sunflowers if you shed your grace on me. I promise to replace your golden mantle every year if you bless me with his love and adoration. Do not forsake me, O holy patron. It's no great effort to grant my wish. There's no one like you in the whole world. Dance in that way that only you can. Keep smiling and you'll always be desired. You need only give your hand to the highest bidder. He will kiss your feet and fawn at the ground before you. Don't waste time on the ones who give you nothing. You should be paid homage and worshipped like the Virgin. The buggy is coming. Hurry. What happened? We thought you'd never come. Old Don Cosme has no fingernails left. - He's on fire! - I want him to suffer, my dear. What a woman, Meneses. Indeed. She looks like a statue. It's just a facade, Leonardo. I imagine a lovely girl like that is silly and vain. I don't care what you imagine. Her beauty is enough for me. I don't need to know any more. Hey, how are you? You're lovelier than the Virgin. They all want to meet you. Don't be mean, Mercedes. Look how grumpy Don Cosme is. So torture him. He can't bear excessive politeness. What's wrong, Pimienta? Come here. Yes, you. Come here. Tell me, who is the girl who just arrived? I could see that you are friends. Her name is Cecilia. But you may as well forget her. She has no time to waste. Tell her I'd like to speak with her. And tell her that my name is Leonardo Gamboa. I saw you at tailor Uribe's, my precious. - I saw you working for him. - So what? You don't have the right to touch me. Pass on a message to Pimienta for me. Tell him that the pearl has been sold to the English. Understood? The pearl has been sold to the English. Go and tell him that. And tell him to inform Uribe. Go quickly. What is this nonsense? And tell him that Marianao is going to Matanzas. Is that clear? Why do you have such a long face? Nothing. Just nonsense. Then change your expression. I have good news for you. Look. Over there. His name is Leonardo Gamboa. He wants to get to know you. Shall we dance? - Did the carriage arrive on time? - Yes. Did the coachman behave himself? Perfectly. I go to the hacienda soon. Would Señorita care to visit my bachelor's quarters? No. No? Do not be cruel. Señorita enjoys watching me suffer. After all, you accepted the old coot's buggy. - Can anyone meet your expectations? - Be quiet. I am to give you a message to pass on to Uribe. Speak. Excuse me. Thank you. Good evening. - Oh, Mercedes Ayala! It's you. - Yes indeed. - As lovely as ever. - How are you? - Who told you? - How should I know? Some man here at the ball but he vanished as if by magic. Damn it! What is this nonsense supposed to mean? Wait for me here, my friend. And be patient. Then go, you horny goat. Show them what you're made of. - All is lost, Uribe. - Let's just wait a few hours. We shouldn't make snap decisions. The Colombian army is no match for the English. Unless we act fast to stop the sale being completed. - We must push the rebellion forward. - Nonsense. If the deal has been made, it's too late to change anything. Rejoin the orchestra. The violins should pipe down. You arrive in the buggy of an old rogue sick of his wife. He tries to entice you into giving him what his old lady doesn't. I ask you to dance in hopes of supplanting him. I also have a carriage you are welcome to use. We who are little more than children accept the old folks' hideous world. And start to play the game according to their rules. My dear Uribe, your business is thriving. I hear you bought a hacienda in the country. You don't get tailors like me every day, Excellency. We have given you mulattoes too much leeway. You hardly freed your feet from the shackles and now you're buying slaves like the white men. That's the law now. I like seeing him with his 12 slave girls. A real gentleman. I must tell you that if it were the way it is in Haiti here, they'd chop off your head too, negrito. Your brown skin wouldn't save you. No gentlemen negroes survive there. And no chiefs of police! I want to see you as soon as possible. Tomorrow perhaps? Let's go, Cecilia. That dark girl is mine, my friend. Have no fear. Come on, Leonardito. Quick. If Father knows you didn't go to class today, we'll be in trouble. Just a few more minutes, Mother. - Lazy boy. Get up. - Let me stay in bed a little longer. Imbeciles! I will say this one last time. You have a maximum of one week. Or else you know what will happen. Overseers! The overseers are fools who let negroes escape like water from a basket. Do I have to go there myself and teach them how to hunt down runaways? It's come so far we have to whip overseers as well. It's dinnertime, Candido. The negroes are fleeing the hacienda. The businessmen's greed is strangling us. And as if that weren't enough, Spain enters a pact with England to abolish the slave trade. We hacienda owners have no say. It's chaos. The only thing one has left is one's home. At least here there should be order. But... What do I find here? A weak mother who gives her foppish son an ounce of gold every evening for him to waste it as he will on all manner of vices. A boy who neglects his studies. Who doesn't even assist in the family business as other sons do. Let's be frank: a good-for-nothing. Candido, I beg of you... Life has brought me many disappointments. But no disappointment has been as great as my son. It is time for his foolishness to cease. We must be decisive to save him from jail and us from eternal weeping and shame. In Her Majesty's ships they whip even the strongest men. It's about time you got your hands dirty. My friend Acha, captain of La Sabina is willing to take you on. Yesterday he said, "Send him to me. I'll soon get him shipshape." Those are the words he used. In any case, I am determined to curb that boy's excesses. You will have to kill me with your own hands. It's your decision, Father. For the sake of our son's love, Gamboa, do not be so harsh. - Your harshness kills me. - Rosa, you're spoiling him. Be careful, Candido. You have to see that he is a man now. You treat him as if he were a child. 226. 28:04,9