Conga-Line In Hell

A cosmopolitan city, a place of privilege for encounters, dialogues and clashes, suddenly realizes that an unprecedented phenomenon has come to being in its midst. Accustomed to speaking of itself in terms of Latin or Afro-American quarters, for instance, the city hesitates as it tries to find a name for the new space. Yesterday's adjectives seem unwieldy: the untiring blender of mestizaje and fusion has worked with such intensity that its labour finally muddles the limits between the neighbourhoods, and borders become tenuous in this new cartography. The city witnesses, reacting with alarm and enthusiasm, witnesses the appearance of a zone where the confrontation of traditions is so constant and dynamic that it becomes to no one and everyone at the same time.

So is Batata-Coco born. . . .