Fascination, philosophical revelations and the feelings that cultures –and persons- from Venezuela’s Amazon region brought on a Cuban musician who had professionally approached this kind of music, are ingrained in Cuban writer’s first grand novel, The Missing Steps (1953). Compared to the strength and emotion that only reality can bring, the ideas the book’s main character carries with him in his academic trip are pale and inaccurate, yet they transform experiences that are reflected in this daily fictitiousness.

That’s explained away in the strength of experience stacked up against knowledge acquired by other means. We don’t stop figuring out about these civilizations’ way of living, feeling and thinking, chiefly obtained through reliable sources or straight from the horse’s mouth. In other cases, these sentiments are conveyed through films and stereotyped novels, even biased stories that are passed on from one person to another in a somewhat unfounded and misleading fashion.

Even through good readings and good flicks we sometimes cast partial views that fail to paint the whole picture –perhaps that’s not the goal- as good in terms of completeness and diversity as experience can do.

It seems that a very effective cure against prejudices and stereotypes that human groups build and share is, in addition to study and good reading- the quest for knowledge and emotions attained through anybody’s own experiences.

How do people from the other side of the Atlantic see us? How do they portray us in their minds? What kind of people do they expect to find in our countries? Negroes, dancing, drums and blue beaches overflow rhetoric about our lands, our history and cities, many times simplifying the enormous richness and depth our cultural values really have.

Stereotype is the name of the game. We’re looked at as similar individuals who can dance, rhythmic and extrovert half-breeds, though a part of us doesn’t appear to fit in this category of social representation. That’s the moment when lack of knowledge and inexperience are replaced by bias and stereotypes, things that are not akin to much friendlier terms like happiness and gladness. Bliss and dancing sometimes override seriousness; fun goes hard work one better; pop art cast clouds over rigorous training, and superficial folksiness overcomes history and cultural values. The worst thing of all is the alleged lack of discipline, thoroughness and resolve Caribbean and American people have. The traditional picture in many minds is that of a “sluggish Indian” or a “blockheaded and lazy Negro,” terms both coined and whipped by colonizers.

So, we’re offering you, ladies and gentlemen who travel to our lands, the opportunity of taking a closer look at American lands and the diverse and rich people who live in them. Only to point out a couple of instances, Eugenio Maria de Hostos, that illustrious Puerto Rican who made such great contributions to sociology and moral principles, and Jose Marti, the greatest all-around intellectual who spoke and wrote not only about his homeland –Cuba- but also on behalf of dozens of American nations as a journalist, a patriot and a diplomat, were both Caribbean men.

Men and women from the Caribbean have been celebrated physicians and discoverers, naturalists as tall as Humboldt, fine artists, classical dancers, superb architects, excellent filmmakers and orators with an undisputed gab gift. All you need to do is swing by and take a closer peek at these cultures, visit museums, saunter the cities and spend time with the people. You’ll find in the streets and rural areas of our countries not only great dancers and amazing brown girls, but also restless and cultivated youngsters; prominent families with generations of intellectuals; disciplined, creative and hardworking people. In the same breath, you’ll chance upon humble people willing to capture your hearts with captivating stories about slaves, grandparents who fought in the Independence War, their traditions and myths, about medicine men and chamanes, or about the latest stages of our respective histories.

“I’m leaving with a different view,” “I do know them now,” “I thought it was all about dancing and rumba,” “These people are incredible,”… tourists will say time and again as they feast eyes on the Mayan ruins of Mexico and Belize, the historic center of Old Havana, Colombia’s Cartagena de Indias, or Old San Juan. There, trapped between the Mayan ruins or the columns of Havana –the same Alejo Carpentier praised- there are diverse people waiting for tourists who are equally diverse and driven by different motivations.

There’s nothing wrong in shaking a leg, looking for a beach, the sand and the sun. The important thing is to know that’s not all. Other looks and bigger exchange with the local population may open up the doors that lead to deeper knowledge of what Caribbean and American residents are actually like. This kind of idea-sharing will definitely give us richer and more lasting keepsakes than pictures and souvenirs, NEW FRIENDS we could probably establish relationships with for forever more.

Maybe that was exactly the same reason that moved Carpentier to sally forth for writing. He also made his own characters travel, not only just as an excuse to give us an American look that revolutionized literature forever, but also to better size up those who were sizing us up as well. Fortunately, traveling around the Caribbean is a whole lot easier than the tribulations the main character of The Missing Steps went through. And it’s much, much easier than it was for Victor Hughes, the mystical character of his novel The Century of Lights as he scoured these lands and discovered –without failing to accomplish his missions- the peoples and cultures of the Caribbean. Equally easy and hassle-free now is to gaze at baroque lamp poles, arches, blinds, church windows, balconies, columns and richness all, the fruits of “the construction fever its inhabitants are running.”