Planetarium

 

El Cochero

   In 8th grade, my middle school theater department was curating the play “The Wizard of Oz”. Our drama program had students and teachers bring in props from home to create the plays set. I was living in Miami at the time and walking home from school one day, I noticed the neighbors in the apartment next door had discarded a plethora of items in the communal yard. I took a look through the pile and found two old, leather suitcases. They were a bit worn down, yet intact, and had a certain charm to them. Both were locked, and did not open without a key. Intending to use them as a prop for my school's play, I lifted the suitcases, and quickly realized how heavy they felt. When my mom arrived home that afternoon, I explained what I had found and out of curiosity she asked to review them. She began to pick the lock with a kitchen knife and when the lock unlatched, the puzzle pieces of a Cuban immigrant family's life revealed itself. 130 Letters, a telegram, photos, postcards, a handkerchief, and more relics were stored inside these cases. My mother set out on a long term project to put together this family's puzzle.

    For my gallery exhibition at Hudson County Community College, I wanted to create an installation that represents my pride for immigrants and my Cuban heritage. I decided to create a puppet. The puppet is designed after a character that I often draw, whose thick mustache and cowboy hat embodies the essence of a guajiro, a term often used in Cuba to describe a farmer or cowboy. I'd take him to school every Friday to work on him and the more shape he took, the more strangers curiously glanced… He was slowly coming to life.

     I cut my own hair to use for the guajiro’s mustache. When I glued it on, my grandmother told me that it had reminded her of a familiar person in Cuba named “El Cochero” translating to coachman. He had a mustache, dark like my hair, and would ride a small carriage with a horse around, offering rides to entertain the children of the neighborhood. Amidst my family reminiscing, I got a glimpse of their lives prior to immigrating to America, and was able to make a personal connection to my roots, having experienced life very differently. The trials and tribulations of an immigrant's life journey is one that carries on for generations, and although my family's story is important, it is not unique. Within the community of immigrants, we are all able to recognize and relate with one other. I had presented the puppet in concerts, around school, and around the streets of my town, and to my surprise, plenty of other Hispanic people identified the puppet as their own fathers, uncles, or cousins.

    In this installation, the guajiro would be sitting on a bench, and coming out of his hollow head would be snails sculpted from air dry clay, trailing all along his perimeter. Growing up my mother would doodle a snail for me, creating a deep sense of connection to the animal. Not only do snails represent patience, but carrying their homes upon their backs symbolize their adaptation, resilience and strength. With the task at hand to make each snail special, I decided to host one snail making event in my school and one in my house, bringing together friends, peers, and strangers around my college campus together to create clay snails for the installation. 

The showcase was December 12th of 2025. After my presentation, I invited everyone to grab a snail to keep for themselves.

       Although each snail was created by an individual from a different background, all had one thing in common: they were all on the same voyage together. Accompanied next to the guajiro sitting on the bench, I placed the two leather suitcases. One laid open with a photograph from the family's collection of Raul Vianello Alacan, whose thick brown mustache harmoniously matched with my traveling guajiro.