ire ak dancingin the land of sandino 0 PATTY s o ^ 0 The Gonzalez Theater sits on a busy corner in Nicaragua’s capital city of Managua surrounded by the eerie remnants of buildings which, prior to the 1972 earthquake, were part of a modern, bustling urban core. It is Saturday afternoon and the heat of the midday sun is intensified as it reflects off the sidewalk surrounding the theater. Street vendors are doing a booming business in Coca-Cola and frescos, a mixture of fruit juice, water and sugar, both of which are sold in and slurped from small ice-filled plastic bags. a he line for the afternoon show at the Gonzalez extends past the M ruins of the Gran Hotel and t reaches almost to the Margot Theater, currently showing Barrio Chino—Chinatown. The majority of those braving the heat along the treeless walkway are teenagers, some, like their peers in the U.S., clad in the Flashdance fashions that originated with the popular movie of the same name. Here and there along the line, young men and women step out to the curb and perform the intricate, jerky, robot-like series of moves known as breakdancing. The movie they are waiting to see is Breakdance, and its opening at several theaters in the city has occasioned a spate of articles in the country’s daily newspapers, television and radio news reports, and numerous discussions in government offices from the Ministry of the Interior to the Ministry of Culture, and in organizations such as Sandinista Youth and the Sandinista Association of Cultural Workers. The debates and discussions have focused on the appearance of youth gangs in Managua and the belief that this phenomenon is somehow related to the arrival of breakdancing, which has reached a wide segment of Nicaraguan youth. While the debate has centered on the growing problem of teenage street violence, the issue at hand is much larger—the effect of U.S. cu lture on the N icaraguan people. Though the Sandinista government is portrayed in the United States as being anti-American with a decidedly gray Stalinist tone, visitors to the country are struck by the continuing U.S. presence in major aspects of Nicaraguan culture. During any week of the year, several U.S.- made films can be found playing at theaters throughout the country. Generally, these are old grade-B horror movies, war films or low-budget soft pornography. Occasionally, a newer, more socially relevant film, such as Silkwood, will be shown. The two channels of Sandinista Television run subtitled U.S. movies, old weekly comedy and dramatic series, and music videos. Currently, 95 percent of the music played on the country’s radio stations is foreign, the majority of it in English and from the United States. Just as in any U.S. city, it is possible to hear the songs of Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie ad nauseum over the Nicaraguan airwaves. . When .asked to describe the state of the arts under the Somoza regime, Nicaraguans invariably say that what existed prior to 1979 was a culture for the rich, with taste dictated by the United States. Thus, the Nicaraguan middle and upper classes attempted to wear, eat, drink and dance to whatever they believed their North American counterparts were consuming. This reliance on imported culture left nearly every area of the national arts and media underdeveloped. Since taking power in 1979, Sandinista officials have attempted to impart behavior and values which are the antithesis of that promoted in the majority of movies, television programs and music imported from the United States. In addition to discouraging the senseless violence and individualism which are so much a part of North American popular culture, the Sandinistas are working to instill pride in being Nicaraguan. But with a legacy of underdevelopment, in the midst of war and a deep economic crisis, the Sandinistas and artists supportive of the revolution have been unable to produce enough work to replace or even compete with imported U.S. culture. Unlike most revolutionary governments which have banned music and movies from the United States, the Sandinistas have endeavored to impart values designed to diminish the negative influences of North American culture, while g radua lly developing a homegrown culture. It is impossible to understand the issue in simple black and white terms. As in every aspect of Nicaraguan life, opinions within the government are diverse and reflect both the ever-evolving, non- monolithic nature of Sandinista policy and the very strong cultural ties the country still has with the United States. The intense debate engendered by the showing of Breakdance serves to illustrate the complexity of the problem. The film ’s arrival coincided with the rapid growth of juvenile street gangs in Managua and public acknowledgement that Nicaragua had a growing problem of teenage violence on its hands. During three weeks of exhibition, it was estimated that 12,000 Nicaraguans saw Breakdance. The first story linking breakdancing to the teenage gangs appeared in Ventana, the cultural supplement of the official Sandinista daily Barricada. Referring to the dance as “ Breakin," writer Erick Aguirre argued that the same young people who practiced their dance steps on weekends at the discotheques had served in the army and were committed to all the tasks involved in defending the country. A week later, however, El Nuevo Diario, the independent, pro-Sandinista daily, ran an article entitled “The Harmful Influence of Brake-Dance—The Gangs: A Plague that Whips Managua,” in which the writer claimed that Brake-Dance, Chinese martial arts films and the'violence inherit in much U.S. television programming and movies shown in Nicaragua were responsible for the creation of gangs such as Los Dragones—The Dragons in Managua. The article claimed the gangs modeled their dress, the violence they perpetrate and even the names of their groups after what they saw on televiClinton St. Quarterly—Winter, 1987 25
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