The Fulbright Experience in Uruguay

June 28, 2024

By Thomas Wayne Edison, Ph.D., Associate Professor of Spanish, Department of Classical and Modern Languages

I chose to apply for a Fulbright Research Grant in Montevideo, Uruguay for three reasons. First, I wanted to build onto the research conducted by previous African American Fulbright scholars. Second, I wanted to learn more about a country in Latin America that is basically unknown by many people in the United States; the few that know about the country are unaware of the nation’s Black community. According to the 2011 Uruguayan census, the nation’s population of African ancestry was 8.1%. Third, I was fascinated by Candombe music and its rich historical connection with the nation’s community of African heritage. Candombe drumming is presented at Las Llamadas, part of the nation’s annual Carnival celebration, which brings a flood of emotions and excitement. This musical tradition grew out of the nation’s community of African ancestry.

The word Candombe is Bantu, from the Kikongo language that translates as “pertaining to blacks.” Candombe originated within the nation’s enslaved West African population and their descendants during the colonial period.  Candombe developed within the salas de naciones (halls of nations) in Montevideo in the eighteenth century. In these ethnic community centers, groups were organized and followed a hierarchal structure such as governor, king, and queen; most of these positions were held by older members of the Black community, respected for their wisdom and life experience. In 2009, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) added Candombe to its list of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity sites. Today Candombe has become a symbol of the nation’s identity.

At different periods of the nation’s history, members of the African-descended community rejected aspects of Candombe because of its connection with African identity. Candombe faded out around the 1870s for two major reasons. The upper-class Black community distanced itself from Candombe and favored European instruments being introduced into the culture. Many Black men were “recruited” to fight for the nation’s civil wars in the 1830s and 1840s, and the second half of the nineteenth century with the promise of their freedom. There was a significant loss of Black men because they were placed on the front lines in battles. As the Candombe tradition faded, it was revived by Italian and Spanish immigrants, who began making people aware of the Black traditions that took place in the past. They played in the drumming celebrations (Lascomparsas) with their faces painted black and began to be known as Lubolos; after WWII, the Black community became established enough to again embrace Candombe, and the practice became an important part of the nation’s Carnival processions. Since the mid-nineteenth century, Las comparsas have expanded to include a large number of interracial groups that perform to bring pride to their neighborhoods and communities.

Since 1956, when the city took over the official management of the annual celebration, Las Llamadas has become a means to generate income by controlling the annual Carnival celebration that features schools of Samba, Murga groups, and Candombe. Originally, Las Llamadas was an informal gathering that took place on Sundays and special holidays such as New Year’s Day, Christmas, the day of the Resurrection, and St. Benedict holy day. One group of drummers playing their instruments would summon (hacer la llamada) to other groups with their drums. The tradition was despised by white and upper-class afro-Uruguayans for what they considered to be lascivious body movements and noise. Today, Las Llamadas is a parade of comparsas that marks the beginning of Carnival season and brings together groups from different neighborhoods to compete to win cash awards in different categories. 

The Fulbright experience allowed me to see, in person, cultural elements that I had previously studied only through reading and media. As I am awaiting the publication of the second edition of the anthology of Afro-Uruguayan literature and art that I compiled (Candombe: arte universal, Baker Books, Mexico), I am honored to have been able to connect with committed individuals who worked with previous Fulbright scholars: Rhonda Collier, Marvin Lewis, and Caroll Young. These African American scholars from the United States worked with poets from the nation’s community of African ancestry and produced important scholarship that reveals the creative literary talent within the Afro-Uruguayan community. Their research and interest in the nation’s Black community made a large impact with the Black community in Uruguay. Their published scholarship focused on literature by Afro-Uruguayan writers, especially poets. Ironically, achievements by Blacks in Uruguay receive more attention outside the country than inside. 

The Fulbright Scholar research grant has allowed me to immerse myself in a fascinating culture that has stimulated me intellectually and personally. I have crossed paths with Uruguayans of all skin tones and hair textures who are committed to making significant visible contributions to improve the quality of life of Black Uruguayans. I have a greater understanding of the complexities of racial politics and cultural expression in a nation, viewed to be the most progressive and tolerant in Latin America.

There were some interesting things that I discovered while being in Uruguay.  The term negro (Black) is a very powerful word in the country, especially in mixed company. The preferred term is afro-descendant or individual of African heritage. I discovered that while the term is not used by whites, it is commonly used among Black Uruguayans. Within the community of African identity, dressing in African clothing is not popular. Individuals within Uruguay’s community suffer socially, economically, and politically.  While there are numerous groups working to improve the lives of Afro-Uruguayans, limited economic resources inhibit the groups working together.

I was able to engage with the Black community in Montevideo and learn about their perspectives on Candombe from the anthology based on Candombe and Black identity. I was fortunate to work with the artists and activists in the production of an anthology of Afro-Uruguyan art. These individuals include: Mae Susana Andrade de Oxum, Natalia Leonor Sandoval, Vicky Carrizo (Circe), Beatriz Santos Arrascaeta, Patricia Silva Ibáñez, Daniel, Bera Martínez, Eli Rodríguez, Jorge Nelson, Chagas Fausto, Julia de los Santos, Eduardo Bidegain, Silvia Renée Segundo, Tomás Alberto Olivera Chirimini, Nelly de Mello Jesús, Almarí Albarenque, Ruth Paula Ocampo Silvera, Isabel «Chabela» Ramírez, Manuel Chouza, Juan María Vidal Vicente (Daren Zule), Cristina Cabral, Efuka Lontange, Mary Portacasas, and Graciela Leguizamón. I was very pleased that Dr. Alejandro Gortázar Belvis agreed to write the prologue of the anthology and was able to share the history of Afro-Hispanic Studies and the history of research of Afro-Uruguayan literature by scholars in the United States.  

One of the highlights of my trip was meeting face to face with activist, drummer, and luthier Lobo Núñez. He is a busy man who was difficult to locate and schedule a meeting with, but the experience was worth the effort. He is one of the leading voices of nation’s Black community that loves Candombe and feels that the musical tradition should always maintain its rich connection with the nation’s Black community. There is a concern among many Black Uruguayans that the white government is appropriating aspects of the tradition for economic gain without passing the gains with the community’s minority population. The second highlight was seeing Las Llamadas in person in February at the Carnival parade. Being able to witness the cultural celebration brought it all together in a way that was unique and participatory. Watching the parade made me turn inward and become aware of being a Black man in a different space with different historical events and social structures. I became aware of my existential consciousness by watching Las comparsas and seeing the passion that they have for a rich musical tradition that survived despite attempts to erase it from the South American nation of Uruguay. For a scholar, this is the exact moment when theory and reality intersect to lead the individual to a third peripheral space. Being in Uruguay obliged me to reevaluate a term that I have been embracing for the last few years in my research known as Ashé-Caribbean Aesthetics. Ashé is a divine creative power that animates all creation and is present in all communities of African descent, even if the individual is unaware of its existence or doesn’t understand its mechanics. After this experience, I discovered that Ashé does not just exist in nations in the Caribbean, but in the entire African Diaspora, which includes the Southern Cone of Latin America.      

The Fulbright Teaching Research Scholar’s Program is a wonderful experience. The trip has been a cultural and academic journey for me. I am greatly indebted to the Fulbright Foundation and the University of Louisville for working to make it possible for me to participate in the research trip. I am currently working on a monograph detailing the history of Candombe in Uruguay, beginning with its appearance in the Colonial Period until modern day. This book will focus on the musical tradition’s connection with the community of African ancestry. My Fulbright experience will benefit my students, my academic department, and my colleagues, and the University of Louisville as a whole. It is vital that in our post–Brionna Taylor world, Americans become aware of the struggles and achievements of communities of African ancestry in other parts of the world in addition to within the United States. Learning about the history of Blacks in Uruguay helps us to put the struggle of individuals of African ancestry in a global context.