Original subtitles

[♪ Drumming ♪]

The grandchildren of the ones who were taken away still do the same things that we do, they are our brothers.

I didn't have the courage to continue the society that I inherited.

But seeing these people motivated me.

[♪ Singing and drumming ♪]

How many important things have been lost from Africa and from Cuba?

How many important things have been lost?

But we pray that we can be a family together again.

Because it has taken a long time.

So we really want to be together with them.

And to finally know where you come from,

Where you come from and how you came from there. That's divine.

[♪ Singing and drumming ♪]

After all this time, all the years that have passed,

I see something like this,

And I think yes, yes, we have family there in Africa.

The same blood!

[♪ African song ♪] [Paddling, water splashing]

For more than four centuries, the transatlantic slave trade reigned terror on those caught in its web.

More than 12 million Africans were sold to slave ships,

And untold millions more died before even reaching the African coast.

In the 1820s and 30s, these quiet creeks,

Today a remote corner of Sierra Leone,

Were a major clandestine slave trading route.

[ Paddling ]

The captives probably didn't know it,

But they were on their way to the infamous slaving port of Gallinas,

Where tens of thousands were sold to slave ships.

[Waves crashing]

Most of those who passed through here were shipped to Cuba,

Where slave merchants called them Gangá,

To differentiate them from slaves who had arrived from other regions of Africa.

[♪ Gangá song ♪]

They say, when the Gangácaptives were coming to this country to be sold as slaves from Africa.

They sang this song of sorrow.

[♪ Gangá song continues♪]

Today, of more than a hundred million people of African origin in the Americas,

Few know much, if anything at all,

Of their ancestors' specific African cultures.

[♪ Gangá-Longobá song and drumming ♪]

But there is one group of people left in Cuba who still remember their Gangá identity.

They sing and dance their heritage in their annual festival each December.

[♪ Gangá-Longobá music continues, cowbell ting♪]

The only Gangá group that still exists in Cuba is the Gangá-Longobá.

We are the only ones that remain from this ethnic group.

On December 17th, everybody comes here and there is a lot of respect for our traditions.

A lot of faith from the people who visit.

Since we were born into this tradition, we have managed to preserve it,

And we have followed the traditions to the letter. The same things that the elders did. The same things.

The dances, the songs, everything is Gangá.

The drumming, everything is Gangá.

I learned the meaning of some of the songs, and sometimes they kind of hurt me,

Because I hear a sadness in the songs, a cry, a call. Something like that.

Then I realized that the songs were stuck within me.

[♪ Piyuya sing Gangá song ♪]

The Gangá-Longobá no longer know where their African roots are.

But then I'm working in Liberia and some locals happen to see my film of their annual festival.

I'm surprised, Cuba is a western country.

I'm surprised to see these traditional activities there.

They are so interested in the similarities,

That they persuade me to show the film to the entire town.

The slaves that were taken from Africa in those days.

They want to know where they come from.

So they have this film show. It's free!

Come and see how these people are living their lives in Cuba.

And how they do things that just correspond our culture in Africa.

And you can compare the history of their culture there and our culture on this side.

Any questions?

It's now! You can come now to the place.

It will help you to build your capacity, and also help you to become seasoned.

They tell me that the Cuban's songs and dances,

Are part of the men's and women's initiation ceremonies for the Poro and the Bondo societies,

That are common throughout this part of West Africa.

That's real African.

So, despite never thinking that tracing their roots might be possible,

I start showing the film of the Gangá-Longobá festival around the whole region.

[♪ Gangá-Longobá song and drumming ♪]

[♪ Gangá-Longobá music continues ♪]

I end up traveling all over, as various suggestions are made.

People used to dance this way in the Wunde society. They moved to the left like that.

♪ Gangá-Longobá music continues ♪

Some words are similar to Temne.

[♪ Gangá-Longobá music continues ♪]

For more than two years, and over many journeys,

I play the Gangá-Longobá songs to thousands of people.

Piyuya, don't forget us. If you have a photo, send it to us so we can understand you more.

[♪ Piyuya sings a Gangá-Longobá song ♪]

Like many historians of the slave trade,

I always believed that tracing Africanisms today was likely impossible,

Because those enslaved had to make anew their cultures in the Americas as a means of survival.

[♪ Gangá-Longobá music continues ♪]

Slowly though, my search begins to suggest that finding the origin

Of at least some of the songs might just be possible.

And back in Cuba, the Gangá-Longobá are very eager to hear about it.

[Muffled football slap]

Can we set it up there?

Yes, right there.

Tonight at nine, an African movie!

About the African Gangá!

In the Gangá house!

Tonight at nine, in the Gangá house,

An African movie, about the African Gangá!

Don't miss it! Very interesting!

Don't miss it!

Go there now!

Let's see the movie,

So we can see their type of culture.

And to see if it's similar to ours.

They are listening to the songs that we sing here on December 17th.

[♪ Gangá-Longobá music playing ♪]

It's in Moyamba that one man, after watching the film closely,

Has a surprising and very specific suggestion.

It's like the Banta language.

It's Banta language.

But it's now getting wiped out in Sierra Leone.

Only a few people...

That do speak the Banta language,

And this is their culture.

Upper Banta is the chiefdom that I'm referring to.

It is in Moyamba district.

It is Moyamba district.

But it's by the river coast.

And if could pay a visit there and play this film there,

They will tell you exactly

:This is the former culture of our great-grandparents.

I hope that Moyamba district will be their origin.

What he's told me is that what the Cubans are singing is a language that's almost forgotten.

And a culture that's quickly dying out.

Of course, I have to go and visit the Upper Banta Chiefdom.

On the way though, I pass Lower Banta,

And decide to show the film and get some responses there.

[Car engine, tires squesh]

It's only in Upper and Lower Banta that we speak this language, so they are our people.

What I saw is a Menda dance from Banta people.

Now things have changed, but in the past people here danced this Banta dance.

What they are doing is the same as in Banta Mokele, so I think they are their people.

[♪ Piyuya sings a Gangá-Longobá song ♪]

The Banta were a small ethnic group who, being so close to the slaving port of Gallinas,

Were decimated by the transatlantic slave trade.

They originally spoke a distinctive dialect of the Temne language but now speak Gba-Mende.

And she is showing the video to them.

The people here are certain that some of the Cuban songs and dances derive from this chiefdom,

Because they recognize them as initiation rites for a local society.

From what we have seen in the movie.

The society dance we saw them perform, it is from our chiefdom.

We call it Menda.

That is what they are dancing.

Those people who are dancing and drumming, we used to call them "Papa Kishenkehsa".

Even today we have people here that can dance the same dance that we saw.

[Singing and clapping]

[♪ Piyuya sings ♪]

They take me to meet a village elder

Who can remember the Banta language she learned as a child.

[Laptop plays Gangá-Longobá music ]

[♪ Piyuya sings ♪]

I'd say: Banta, do you come from us? The people I see there, that is who I'm talking about.

Are they from Banta?

Because from what I see, you are Banta people.

I would say these are my friends.

This is my family.

I would say that.

This is my family.

Because, the language they speak, I speak it myself.

[in Banta] I send you greetings.

[in Banta] Since my father died, I have been the only one who can speak Banta. I'm Banta too.

[in Banta] Whenever I want to speak Banta I can still do it perfectly.

I was doing the dance.

[♪ Sings ♪]

[Paddling, water splashing]

Then, crossing the Taia river, they take me to Mokpangumba,

A very old and remote village founded to protect the Banta people.

It was long the cultural heart of Upper Banta.

Hello.

Hello.

Look at that! She is just like my grandmother.

Yes.

They look alike.

Hey! We can sing that song as well.

Yes.

Then one man says words that I, and certainly the Gangá-Longobá,

Never expected or perhaps even dared to hope for.

They are we!

They were just asking me if these things weren't recorded here,

Because what they were doing, we ourselves are doing it today.

We are the Banta people and they used to tell us that some of our ancestors were taken away.

Our people used to speak this language.

We recognize it but they didn't teach us so we can't speak it. Some of the songs we recognize too.

Because they were singing and then,

There is a song here that we used to sing when we have initiated our secret society,

And we also heard the same song in the video.

"Wayiyo" means "don't sleep",

It means you continue to dance, you will not sleep anyway.

So I heard that song and then I was so impressed.

[Narrator]: In part their delight is because they have always wondered

What happened to the Banta people taken by slave raiders.

We never knew what happened to our ancestors when they were taken away.

But we are very happy to send greetings to their descendants,

Now that we know that they exist.

We never knew what happened to our people that were taken away.

But the people we have seen are the descendants of one of them.

Everyone in Mokpangumba is happy to have this news.

Well I say, these must be our people.

We are full of joy when we saw the people who practice the same thing we used to do here.

So we are so happy.

And even now the happiness is just moving inside our hearts.

Look at that, how cute! Look at the boy and how he dances!

The same blood, the same blood.

Africa!

Also we have a woman who was the leader of this Menda society that existed in this place.

Oh, these are my people!

It's the same dance.

[Narrator]: The Menda society was a family society existing only among the descendants

Of the Banta founder of this chiefdom,

So they are astonished to see people far away singing their initiation songs.

[♪ Laptop playing Gangá-Longobá songs ♪]

[Narrator]: Unusually, because it was a society dealing with medicines and healing,

Both men and women could be initiated.

So the Menda society ran alongside the usual separate Poro and Bondo societies.

[♪ Laptop starts playing another Gangá-Longobá song ♪]

It's the same dance.

Yes, yes.

That particular language is from the Menda society.

Pour water on me.

If you put water on your society leader they will not initiate you.

The language, the dialect is from the Banta.

And it's ours.

[Narrator]: She not only knows the meaning of some of the songs,

She adds words long forgotten in Cuba.

[♪ Gangá-Longobá song and drumming ♪]

'Bomusigie', that is what the leaders are called in Menda terminology.

Tabulele condo mui mia.

That's what they are singing.

It means: if there is something you want to say, just say it.

Then I will know what is in your heart.

[Narrator]: Of the 13 African songs kept alive today by the Gangá-Longobá,

The Menda women recognize 5 of them.

After around 170 years, this is utterly astonishing.

[Lucy sings along to the Gangá-Longobá song playing]

Then you do this.

When the initiation is completed you dance around and receive gifts.

And then you sing

:Breeze carry me away.

We were told by our people, from parents to children,

Something bad happened to them.

They prepared their young ones, many young boys and many girls,

And their enemies attacked them at night.

Hey Bomusigie!

And all the initiates who have died.

So they took all the initiates away. We think that they were probably taken to Europe.

I pour this libation for these people we have seen and to strengthen our society.

So we were always wondering where their people were.

Where had they gone?

Were they killed?

Are they living?

We never knew.

So we are very, very happy to hear the news that some people are living in Cuba.

No other people in this part of the world used to practice such cultural activities.

Except this part of the country, which is Upper Banta.

This proved to us that the history our grandfathers and our fathers were telling us has come true,

That our people were taken into slavery, and some of them are still existing.

The last thing you would expect is that we here, sitting in the Gangá house, would go to Africa.

But we did.

I'm not going to deny it, I was stunned. I never would have thought that...

It was as if...

That we could reach all those Africans. Hey, I got goose bumps inside.

And I said, damn! Oh yes, I was really impressed.

They were also very moved, right? I could see that.

When they sang some of their songs it reminded me of my grandmother.

It reminded me of my grandmother, and I told Cuco,

That I had a lump in my throat. I said, "wow, imagine."

And I feel deeply impressed.

And very happy.

The Gangá from Perico, Matanzas province, in Cuba, are family of the Gangá there in Africa.

And I really liked the interchange, that understanding that took place,

And so we are not so lost anymore.

The things we are doing are the same. We are not lost after all.

And yes, there is a line that comes directly down to us,

Which makes us very close, very close.

For the ignorant, the chisel seems to cut into the wood violently.

For the less ignorant, it enters ever so gently,

And you can hear the calling of our ancestors.

They are not so alone anymore. I keep them company.

They call to me that they want to see the sunlight.

I obediently bring them to life.

Here are my ancestors.

The chisel cuts into the wood ever so slightly,

But they are there.

As the saying goes, "When man arrives on earth, the laws are already set."

When I arrived, the Gangá already existed.

And on December 17th, because we couldn't be left on our own, even as children we went there.

At the beginning I was always a little bit afraid, but afterwards it was a tradition to go there on the 17th.

This one works.

I, well, I am the youngest of the group.

Since I was ten years old, my grandfather, Cuco, taught me this kind of drumming.

And since I was little I always saw all of this culture, and I learned about it, and I'm living it now.

Listen how good it sounds.

I'm very proud that my grandfather taught me about our roots.

He is an inspiration for me, so in the future I will follow in his footsteps, his same path.

I wasn't born in the Gangá but it's in my blood.

I follow the tradition, and I'm Piyuya's successor.

She is the one who taught me. I learned everything from her.

She's my mom, my godmother. She is my mentor.

Can you imagine how I feel? I never thought she would have so much trust in me.

I feel truly proud to be Piyuya's heir in the Gangá.

OK, that's it for now.

One day I said: lets see if I can play the bell.

So I took the bell and that's how I became the offical bell player for the Gangá.

Can't you see me here with the bell? I was already a grand master at bell playing.

So I became the Gangá chief, with Cuco.

Cuco said, "The day you die this will be over", and I said to him, "You can't say that."

Because your grandmother didn't say it, and she was the leader back then.

She died but the tradition continued.

My grandmother Florinda Diago, known as Linda, she passed away 32 years ago,

And whatever I am today, I owe to her.

Life was hard for us here.

We all lived by the machete and the hoe,

On the plantations, clearing the ground, cutting sugar cane.

I take the liberty of saying that we were the poorest family in Perico.

But in spite of being poor, we were taught to hold our heads high.

Linda had eight siblings, they were nine with her.

They lived on Clemente Gómez street, the corner of González. They were all family, siblings.

They were all Gangá. We were raised there.

Linda was the one chosen to learn, from the time that she was small.

Everyone said that she had a great singing voice.

She used to sit with the elders when they were on the patio singing.

And they sang and they sang and they sang. That's how she was chosen, like that.

Just like that.

[Florinda sings]

[Narrator] Florinda becamea well known leader of Gangá culture,

Keeping the traditions alive even through the decades after the Revolution of 1959,

When such rituals were disavowed.

This is Florinda Diago.

Her great-grandmother was African but her grandmother was born in Cuba.

My great-grandmother was African.

She taught my grandmother.

She had two children.

A girl who was my grandmother, and a boy.

So what I know, I learned from that old African lady.

Florinda's great-grandmother was called Josefa.

She was a slave. This is where the Gangá settlement begun, at Santa Elena plantation.

They were brought here and sold as slaves.

Here in Cuba they cut sugar cane and worked at sugar plantations, on trapiches.

And that's where Africa and Cuba got together,

[Narrator] Conditions were so hard, and punishments so severe, that life expectancy on Cuban Ingenios was only seven years.

Yet remarkably Josefa, having already endured the deadly journey from Africa,

Survived into very old age, seeing the end of slavery,

And proudly teaching her Banta heritage to her extended family.

I feel really proud of my ancestors, of Josefa and Florinda. Proud but also sad,

Knowing that my ancestors came here and many of them didn't make it.

Or they came to Cuba but they died soon afterwards.

To all the ancestral spirits that are listening to us, that are watching us, watching over us,

In the other world where you are,

Provide us with your protection.

We are following the same route as you.

Wherever you went,

We will follow you there.

Please always be with us, for everything.

Mokpangumba is a village that belongs to us, so to say.

So our great-great-grandfather, by the name of Gbaigula, lived on the other riverbank.

But because of warfare,

They crossed over here.

By then he had a child by the name of Gbangumba.

So Gbangumba built a hut in this place,

And then this place began to grow.

So they came to name the village after him, Mokpangumba.

So we are the real indigenes of this village. We own this village. We are fine and stay in this village.

We have people here that do farm work.

Some people sell what they grow, to pay for their children's education.

Others grow cassava and process gari.

So that's how we live here.

Children learn from their parents and then take over from them.

[Tapping, sharp swishing, chicken clucking]

[Narrator] One of the things they have inherited from their Banta forebears,

Is a proud tradition of herbal medicine.

Specially the members of the Menda society, how learn secret remedies.

I was very small when my aunt Yah Kula initiated me into the Menda Society.

With our society, you can only know about the herbs if you are initiated.

Take it and put it here.

So when my mother went to the bush to get herbs she always took me with her.

Pull off the leaves.

Like this.

This is how you mould it.

Men should put it in warm water and drink it.

Cold water is OK if you crumble it.

If you are initiated, your children, must be initiated too.

It is a family society, inherited through our father's lineage.

At the end of the initiation,

The Menda people,

They used to have a drum that they beat.

And they sing and dance.

This chiefdom in those days was dominated by people who spoke the Banta language.

But our people deviated themselves from the original culture.

There used to be people that spoke the Banta language, but we can't speak it.

Our ancestors used to speak the Banta language.

Even our grandmothers spoke it. Some of them were in the Menda.

They were the ones that spoke the language. But all that we have forgotten now.

I have more than ten grandchildren.

They go to school but we all sit together, and I teach them the Banta traditions.

When we say Mokpangumba, that is the name of our town...

What I know is that we are descended from Banta people.

We raise up our hearts

And our voices on high,

The hills and the valleys re-echo our cry.

Blessing and peace be

Ever thine own,

Land that we love, our Sierra Leone.

The school is the first ever since this village began here.

It's the first school.

Whenever they send any teacher here, they refuse to come.

Because you could say this is almost an island.

And I'm teaching nine subjects in my class.

Since there are not enough teachers.

But I have no problem with the work.

It is very nice because it gives me more knowledge and understanding.

And I encourage some parents who don't know the value of education,

To send their kids to school.

So that in time to come, their homes and families will change positively.

The Lord is my shepherd Oh praise his holy name.

I have decided to follow Jesus.

I have decided to follow Jesus.

I have decided to follow Jesus.

No turning back, no turning back.

He will lift you up.

He will lift you up.

If you only just humble yourself before the Lord.

He will lift you up.

Burn, fire burn!

Don't leave anything unburned!

The majority of the people here practice subsistence farming.

I am a teacher.

But I'm not just reliant on the teaching work.

I am also reliant on subsistence farming.

Because the money we earn from teaching is so scanty, let's say.

So we rely on the farm work.

There we earn money to take care of ourselves and our families.

There was a time that we heard about some people called rebels.

When they arrived here they captured our children.

They just came and caught our children and took them away.

They said they had come to protect us, but they stole everything and killed people.

During the war we fled to Bo.

So many people fled. Some went to Bo, but some stayed here.

We just kept hiding from them until things calmed down.

We only returned to our village after the war.

Once, things were difficult.

When the war came it destroyed our village.

But I thank God we are still alive.

Whatever the problems the war brought,

I still stayed here because this is where I was born.

After the war, I needed to do something to survive, so I got back to work.

All I know is farm work.

I grew up seeing my parents doing this work.

When we were children, my elder brother was sent to school.

Our parents couldn't afford to send us both, because things were very hard.

They asked me to do farm work and that is what I'm still doing.

We plant palm nuts to eat.

When we cut it, we remove the individual nuts from the kernel.

Then we cook it to produce palm oil that we use for cooking.

I can live from doing this and it suits me.

Everything is a learning process from the time that you are born.

One generation takes over from the last.

When those people were taken away to another country, they didn't know that their people here still existed.

But the practices that were passed on from one generation to another is how we found each other again.

[Narrator] What both the Sierra Leoneans and the Cubans really want to know,

Is if they might be reunited at last.

[♪ Drumming, singing ♪]

We are so excited, we were so glad to see them.

And look at them.

If it had been possible for me to go into the screen and reach where they are.

I might have done it anyway.

But it was not possible.

If they can come and we survive until then, we will all be happy to be together.

I will be overjoyed to welcome them and to show them that they are our true family.

I ask God to make that possible.

I want the moment we will meet to arrive.

I will be very nervous, because it will be such a unique encounter.

And I send them a kiss, a hug and my best wishes.

I have them all in my heart. Even though I don't know them personally yet,

I already feel part of them.

I will feel very proud to meet my cousins and my uncles.

To share words, roots, culture.

I would be proud to touch the land that I know my ancestors came from.

I will try my hardest in my drumming.

It is in our minds that those people are our brothers and we will receive them warmly.

My body is in Cuba,

But my soul is in Africa.

And it's my African soul that nurtures my body in Cuba.

We pray that God makes it possible that we can be together.

So it is very, very...

I don't even know what to expect, anyway,

When we are going to see those people in our midst.

Our people who were taken away have found their home again.

[Fire crackling, kids chatting]

[Narrator] Getting permission for the Cubans to travel is extremely difficult.

And the wait turns into two years.

[Palm oil plashes]

But eventually the village gets ready. Preparing food and huts.

Digging toilets and collecting spoons for them to eat with.

Because the are determined that the Cubans come to stay.

Come as family and not as tourists.

You should have Augustine and Soso.

No, it is not possible.

Augustine, Soso, Nabbie Sillah.

[Narrator] At last, after centuries apart,

And after a change in Cuban laws allowing them to travel freely,

Four of the Gangá-Longobá are here.

Piyuya, if only you knew where we are about to cross?

If only you could be here.

Spectacular, isn't it?

We have landed.

I felt really nervous. When I saw the little canoe I said "Oh my God, help me."

I was really impressed. I started crying. Afterwards I was laughing. I was feeling happy.

It is like we never left. It was sort of a blessing, seeing the calmness of that river.

And a little piece of us was there.

Here we go! We are going to cross.

[Narrator] No matter the time that has passed,

The people of Mokpangumba are eager than the Cubans can join in with village life.

[♪ Vigorous drumming, thumping ♪]

The ancestors of the Gangá-Longobá.

I feel so happy,

Just to think that I'm going to see them, that I'm going to be with them.

And I know that I'm going to cry and to laugh.

I know that I'm going to enjoy it.

A lot of time has passed, right?

And we have never seen each other.

And I'm eager to meet them and give them a hug,

Because it has been a century or two, but finally we'll be reunited.

[Narrator] The entire village has turned out on this remarkable day,

Not only to welcome their visitors, but to also honor the ancestors.

To remember a girl whose African name we don't know, but who has left the most striking legacy.

[♪ Drumming, chequere rattle, singing ♪]

[Drumming stops]

[Wood rattle, rafia rustles]

[Drumming and singing restarts]

[♪ Drumming, chequere rattle, singing ♪]

[Narrator] So, the men join in with the village's men dance,

Taking roles that perhaps should have always been theirs.

[♪ Drumming, chequere rattle, singing ♪]

Welcome.

Thank you.

Welcome.

So we are very glad to receive our brothers and sisters in our midst today.

[in Spanish] Welcome to our visitors!

So we just want to tell you that the first mask that is going to perform is...

Mainly part of the Bondo society, which is mainly for women.

The second mask will be the Goboi, which is part of the men's society.

Which is the Poro society.

I thank everybody here and above all I praise God.

We are all happy to meet you.

May you find a place in your hearts to love us as brothers.

Because God has shown us clearly that you are our people.

We will always be happy to have you here.

Thank you for receiving us in your home.

For us it is a pleasure to return to the land our ancestors left from.

We bring stories of the souls that left this place.

We all feel that they are very close now.

Be always hopeful for the return of the brothers that are still not here with us. Keep the faith.

Thank you very much. We'll stay here with you, and be assured that our souls have always been here.

Have you ever done this before at home?

Never. It's the first time.

You have to tie it tight so you won't fall down.

If you don't know how to do it you have to be careful. Take your time.

Cut the stalk first.

Hey, it's going to fall there.

Yes like that, cut underneath.

OK, drop it.

This is a unique experience.

It's really hard work. It comes from the heart. Tough, tough. Very purposeful.

And this is precisely the value of being here.

A lot of courage, a lot of heart.

These men are the titans of Africa.

In my opinion, of the world.

Alfredo.

His African name is Sinava.

Meaning, 'for tomorrow'.

Uncle Sinava!

Uncle Sinava!

Uncle Sinava!

Uncle Sinava!

You are welcome, welcome home.

You are welcome, welcome home.

So you are welcome, so I am welcome.

And you are welcome, welcome home.

Welcome Uncle Sinava.

You are welcome, welcome home.

You are welcome, welcome home.

So you are welcome, so I am welcome.

And you are welcome, welcome home.

Uncle Sinava,

The first question for you.

Yes?

Yes.

My name is Moiatu. Can we visit Cuba one day?

Yes.

We will need a very big plane.

Then when we get there, we'll open our homes to you.

So we can be together as a family.

Uncle Sinava!

The children said you should name this object in Mende.

Motui.

Who is next?

OK, Uncle Munda.

There is a road linking Mokunde to Mokpangumba.

What do we call this road in Mende?

Pelei.

Auntie Jillo!

Ok, now the question is for you.

When you came from Cuba,

You travelled in the air to come.

The object that you used in the air...

To come.

They said they don't know that object.

This object, what do we call it?

Balui.

It is now time for Joe.

Uncle Joe! The children said you should name the object that is here.

This one here, only this one.

Bagii.

Yandrys' African name is Joe.

Meaning 'first son'.

Change! Let's go.

I'm gonna teach you how to play Cuban baseball.

OK?

Look at the pitcher.

Hit it here, not up there.

Hit it and then run there.

You can do it. You can do it, come on.

Let's go, you can do it. You can do it little guy.

Ok, good, good.

Come on, you can do it.

Run, run!

Throw it there, there!

I'm going to take you to Cuba, buddy.

I'm going to take you to Cuba.

So you can play baseball in Cuba.

Run! Oh Mikey!

Catch it Mikey! Throw it here!

Touch base, good!

Applause.

High five!

I think it has been a bit of fun.

So that in the future they know how to play baseball.

Pa Cuco, your African name is Munda.

Munda means 'you belong to us', so you are ours.

Delicious.

Good.

Elvira, your African name is Jillo.

Meaning 'to survive'.

So you have survived.

We didn't know because the meaning got lost in Cuba over time,

And the newer generations don't know anymore what Yumbuyamba is.

This is Yumbuyamba.

Here in Africa.

The one referred to in the song.

And now we know what Yumbuyamba is.

We have learned it is a medicinal plant. Very curative. From Africa.

That's the way to sing it.

That's the Yumbuyamba song from here.

It's from here.

It's been more than twenty years since we last saw this man dancing.

This man with the grey hair is so happy, it has caused him to dance.

For me it has been a spectacular journey.

Very touching.

The time we spent living in the village, the singing, the drumming...

I danced like I have never danced before.

Materially, they don't have much, but spiritually,

This is perhaps the richest place that I have ever been able to experience.

Language was never a problem. We communicated with our feelings.

It was the looks, the smiles, the hugs, the fun.

Joe Allie, Joe-Yandrys.

Joe, yes.

Joe and Yandrys.

And now I feel even prouder of who I am, and where I come from,

Of what I am and where I want to go in life, of what I'm searching for.

Even though I haven't accomplished much, now that I have returned to Africa,

I feel that I have done almost everything.

One more thing... I hope we can return so that I can learn to carry a bowl on my head!

Africa!

My God, it was so beautiful, it really was.

It's the first time that we performed on this African soil.

This music that they brought to Cuba and gave us.

We have always followed that tradition, and to drum there was very moving.

It was a dream, because it was something I never thought would happen.

It was fate. It was already written.

It's touching the moon.

Damn, this is the moon!

And I'm touching it.

[♪ Drumming, bell tings, people sing "Breeze take me away" ♪]

[Narrator] And so, singing the song which once concluded the initiation rites for the Menda society,

It seems that maybe, just maybe,

A hundred and seventy or so years later,

The initiates kidnapped on the eve of their ceremony finally get their big day.

Even in a continent where ancestors are widely revered,

It is a remarkable tribute.

[♪ Drumming, bell tings, people sing "Breeze take me away" ♪]

All the ancestors of this village and those alive are extremely happy.

We believe that this relationship will not be cut off anymore.

This is a wonderful story that is going to last forever.

We pray for long lives for our people we have met and those still not with us.

May God protect them from harm on their way home.

They were here singing songs that I recognized and I was so delighted.

And it made me believe that our society would come back to life.

When I was a boy I used to see this man and I can still remember,

One Banta line that he was using

That means

:We are born in Banta.

Trained up in Banta.

And nothing can deviate us from Banta.

If I return home without my soul,

It's because I left my soul in Africa.

I'm not afraid of that.

And I have the hope that one day I'll return.

I have that hope.