Like the Guantamera and Siboney, the spread of Chan Chan all around the globe has made this song, written by Francisco Repilado (Compay Segundo), one of the undisputed international icons of Cuban music. However, only a few know that the first man who first put that legendary tune in his rep was Eliades Ochoa.

“It was back in 1988,” Eliades remembers, “when I first tried to take Compay to Santiago de Cuba. He was 80-something years old at that time and hadn’t been performing for quite some time, he had retired as a cigar roller from a factory in Havana. I was leading the Patria quartet and there was plenty of work in eastern Cuba.”

Compay was a myth. The generation of troubadours and soneros Eliades had belonged to in Santiago de Cuba used to remember his prodigious baritone voice in the Los Compadres duo, not to mention his mellow pitches when belting out songs like Macusa, Sarandonga and other compositions.

“I seems like yesterday. I still remember the image of the seasoned singer standing in front of me. He gave me a tape with some ten unedited songs and later he asked me, ‘How did you like the Chan Chan thing?’ ‘A gem,’ I told him, and in no time we made the arrangements and recorded the tune. Everybody knows what happened next. Compay and me opened the Buenavista Social Club with Chan Chan, and our duo was included in the score of the Win Wenders movie.”

Does Eliades Ochoa need an introduction? Is it necessary to say he’s one of the finest songwriters and performers of Cuban son in recent decades, a man with a vast discography who has brought down the house in countries like Germany, the U.S., Mexico, Spain, UK, Netherlands, Sweden and Italy?

At age 61, he says he feels like a million bucks, very much like one of his most listened-to songs, “Estoy como nunca” (I’m better than ever). He loves to be in the know, tries his hand at the musical roots he inherited, yet he never forgets the traditional repertoire, the one that has put Santiago de Cuba on the island nation’s cultural map.

“To tell you the truth,” he says, “Santiago doesn’t stand out as a tobacco stronghold. Tobacco belongs to Pinar del Rio and some regions of central Cuba. But a puff every now and then was commonplace among crooners, so I got used to rolled cigars.”

“However, the best cigars I’ve ever smoked in my life were those that Compay Segundo used to roll for me. He mastered the cigar-rolling trade like no other. I must say that cigars brought us as closely together as music ever did.”