{"id":226,"date":"2018-05-11T10:22:24","date_gmt":"2018-05-11T08:22:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/?p=226"},"modified":"2018-08-29T17:26:43","modified_gmt":"2018-08-29T15:26:43","slug":"mariem-hassan-la-voz-del-sahara","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/2018\/05\/mariem-hassan-la-voz-del-sahara\/","title":{"rendered":"Mariem Hassan, documental &#8220;La Voz del S\u00e1hara&#8221;"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-234 size-large\" title=\"Mariem Hassan, La voz del S\u00e1hara\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/MHlvdSoptima.jpg?resize=525%2C520&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"La Voz del S\u00e1hara\" width=\"525\" height=\"520\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/MHlvdSoptima.jpg?resize=1024%2C1015&amp;ssl=1 1024w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/MHlvdSoptima.jpg?resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 150w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/MHlvdSoptima.jpg?resize=300%2C297&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/MHlvdSoptima.jpg?resize=768%2C762&amp;ssl=1 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/MHlvdSoptima.jpg?resize=100%2C100&amp;ssl=1 100w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/MHlvdSoptima.jpg?w=1428&amp;ssl=1 1428w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 525px) 100vw, 525px\" \/><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><b>MARIEM HASSAN \u00b7 la Voz del S\u00e1hara \u00b7 the Voice of the Sahara<\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">Al subir a <i>promonubenegra<\/i>, nuestro canal en YouTube, el documental producido en 2008 por canalmicro y Nubenegra, aprovechamos para incorporar al blog otras tres palabras en hasan\u00eda y lo que dichos t\u00e9rminos representaban para Mariem: <i>ahrab<\/i>, <i>haadiz<\/i> y Cuba.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span class=\"embed-youtube\" style=\"text-align:center; display: block;\"><iframe loading=\"lazy\" class=\"youtube-player\" width=\"525\" height=\"296\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/mZTmFnDaMR4?version=3&#038;rel=1&#038;showsearch=0&#038;showinfo=1&#038;iv_load_policy=1&#038;fs=1&#038;hl=es-ES&#038;autohide=2&#038;wmode=transparent\" allowfullscreen=\"true\" style=\"border:0;\" sandbox=\"allow-scripts allow-same-origin allow-popups allow-presentation allow-popups-to-escape-sandbox\"><\/iframe><\/span><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/youtu.be\/DBJIJsK6zaU\">Versi\u00f3n en Ingl\u00e9s: The voice of Sahara<\/a><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">El documental recoge la transformaci\u00f3n que experimenta una cantante, integrada en un grupo musical junto con otras cuatro voces femeninas, al convertirse en una artista solista, liderando su propio grupo.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">Fue estrenado en el festival de cine FISAHARA 2008, celebrado en el campamento de refugiados saharauis de Dajla en Argelia. Ha sido proyectado en numerosos festivales de World Music en medio mundo, con la participaci\u00f3n de Mariem en los coloquios posteriores. Fue tal la repercusi\u00f3n que tuvo, que Mariem, al sentirse tan valorada y querida por su p\u00fablico, termin\u00f3 aceptando el puesto de Embajadora Cultural del Pueblo Saharaui.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><b><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">La historia completa en: MARIEM HASSAN, La Voz Ind\u00f3mita (del S\u00e1hara Occidental). Un documento \u00fanico: Libro + CD + DVD<\/span><\/span><\/b><br \/>\n<!--more--><br \/>\n<span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><b>AHRAB \/\/ HU\u00cdDA \/\/ ESCAPE<\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<blockquote><p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">Tres veces he tenido que darme a la fuga porque mi integridad peligraba.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><b>La primera vez<\/b> fue cuando me casaron, ten\u00eda 13 a\u00f1os y lo hicieron seg\u00fan una antigua, por fortuna, costumbre nuestra. Yo no me quer\u00eda casar pero mi familia me dec\u00eda que ten\u00eda que casarme con ese hombre. Mis hermanos mayores no estaban de acuerdo pero mi padre y mi madre mandaban en casa. Me acuerdo que la noche de bodas me vistieron con una melfa blanca y otra negra y entre dos me llevaron a la fuerza a la puerta de otra jaima. Yo iba llorando y gritando que no quer\u00eda. Cuando \u00e9l lleg\u00f3 me cogi\u00f3 fuerte. Yo me quer\u00eda soltar y protestaba mucho pero no me hac\u00eda caso. Y vino mucha gente y cantaban canciones y cuando me dejaron con \u00e9l yo me puse a llorar y a llorar. En cuanto afloj\u00f3 la mano me escap\u00e9 y yo sal\u00ed corriendo a mi jaima. \u00c9l ten\u00eda unos 25 a\u00f1os.<\/p>\n<p>Cuando llegu\u00e9 a la jaima mi madre me pregunt\u00f3 por qu\u00e9 me hab\u00eda ido. Le contest\u00e9 que no me gustaba. Y ella sigui\u00f3: pero Mariem, si es un buen hombre. Si \u00e9l venia a mi jaima, yo sal\u00eda corriendo a una de mis hermanos y no dejaba que me viera. Y as\u00ed estuve tres a\u00f1os, hasta que mis hermanos le pagaron un dinero para que me diera la carta del divorcio. Fue cuatro o cinco d\u00edas antes de salir del S\u00e1hara.<\/p>\n<p><b>La segunda vez<\/b> fue en Smara. Soltaron a algunos presos saharauis que estaban detenidos por los espa\u00f1oles y se mont\u00f3 una fiesta a la que acud\u00ed. En esa fiesta fue la primera vez que yo vi una guitarra que la tocaba un chico. Y yo cant\u00e9 y vino la polic\u00eda de Espa\u00f1a con porras y todos salimos corriendo. Yo sal\u00ed por una ventana. Ten\u00eda 15 a\u00f1os.<\/p>\n<p><b>La tercera vez<\/b> fue la m\u00e1s dram\u00e1tica. La m\u00e1s dura para m\u00ed y todo mi pueblo. Yo no vi la marcha verde pero s\u00ed escuchaba que mis hermanos dec\u00edan que la marcha verde iba a entrar ma\u00f1ana o pasado ma\u00f1ana. Estaban muy atentos a la radio. Ve\u00edamos que pasaban grupos huyendo por donde est\u00e1bamos. Una noche mis hermanos dijeron que nos \u00edbamos, que nos llev\u00e1bamos las jaimas; las cuatro, porque estaban mis t\u00edos y mi hermana mayor. Y tambi\u00e9n el agua y la comida. Todo, en dos coches que ten\u00edan mis hermanos. Los dem\u00e1s salimos andando con el ganado. Toda la noche andando, hasta que al amanecer llegamos a un r\u00edo y all\u00ed nos quedamos esperando que se volviera a hacer de noche. Entonces llegaron mis hermanos con los coches. De d\u00eda no se mov\u00eda nadie, ten\u00edamos mucho miedo. No quer\u00edamos ver a los marroqu\u00edes. Escuch\u00e1bamos sus bombas, bum, bum, bum, por el norte, cerca de Smara y de Hausa. Yo ten\u00eda 17 a\u00f1os. Subimos en los coches, en uno las cabras y en otro las personas, y nos fuimos a Wad Meheriz, y nos quedamos all\u00ed 20 d\u00edas, hasta que lleg\u00f3 una caravana argelina con comida, ropa y medicamentos. Nos cambiaron hacia Tifariti porque los aviones marroqu\u00edes estaban bombardeando Um Draiga y hab\u00eda muchos muertos y heridos. En Tifariti nos quedamos dos d\u00edas. Yo hice, como las dem\u00e1s, una jaima con mi melfa, para proteger a los ni\u00f1os del sol. Pero no val\u00eda ni para el fr\u00edo ni para la lluvia. Otros hicieron peque\u00f1os hoyos junto a los \u00e1rboles, para protegerse. A los dos d\u00edas sal\u00ed en una caravana que nos llev\u00f3 a Rabuni. Se qued\u00f3 mucha gente esperando. Al irnos los aviones marroqu\u00edes empezaron a bombardearnos. Cuando llegamos a Rabuni la caravana volvi\u00f3 a por m\u00e1s refugiados.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<h6>English<\/h6>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i>My integrity has forced me to run away from my life three times.<\/i><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><b>The first time<\/b><\/span><span style=\"color: #000000;\"> I was just 13 years old when I was forced to marry because of an ancient custom of our culture. I didn\u2019t want to get married but my family told me I had to marry this man. My older brothers didn\u2019t like the idea, but my mother and father had the final word in our house. I remember that on our wedding night they dressed me a white melfa and a black melfa and they needed two people to bring me to the door of the other jaima (tent) because I was crying and screaming in such defiance. When I arrived at his home, he grabbed me forcefully. I struggled against him, trying to run away but he ignored my protests. Many people came, they were singing songs and then left me alone with him. I began to cry and cry. As soon as he released his grip on me I bolted away, running to my family\u2019s jaima. He was 25 years old.<\/span><\/i><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i>When I got home my mother asked me why I had run away. I told her that I didn&#8217;t like that man. She told me: \u201cMariem he is a good man.\u201d But when he came to my parent\u2019s tent I ran away and hided at one of my brothers&#8217; tent. I continued on like this, from one family member to another for almost three years until my brothers finally paid him to allow us to get a divorce. This was just four or five days before we had to leave the Sahara. <\/i><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><b>The second time<\/b><\/span><span style=\"color: #000000;\"> was in Smara. They had released some Western Saharawi prisoners who\u2019d been arrested by the Spanish. I joined the big celebration party. This was the first time I\u2019d seen a guitar. A boy was playing it and I was singing. The Spanish police came with nightsticks in hand so we all ran as fast as we could. I jumped out the window. I was 15 years old.<\/span><\/i><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><b>The third time <\/b><\/span><span style=\"color: #000000;\">was much more dramatic. It was the most difficult moment for me and my people ever have been through. I didn\u2019t see the \u201cGreen March\u201d but I heard my brother\u2019s saying the Morrocan troops would come either tomorrow or the day after. They were glued to the radio. We saw group after group fleeing. One night my brothers told me we had to pack up our jaimas &#8211; there were four tents altogether, including my uncles and my older sister &#8211; we also packed water and food all into my brother\u2019s two cars. The rest of us begin the escape on foot with all of our livestock. We walked all through the night until sunrise met us at a river. There we waited until nightfall to hide from danger. At that point my brothers arrived in their cars. During the day nobody could move. We were petrified that the Morrocans would spot us. We could hear the bombs, bum, bum, bum, to the north, near the towns of Smara and Hausa. I was 17 years old. We packed the goats into one car and the family squeezed into another and we set out for Wad Mheiriz. There we waited for 20 days and 20 nights until an Algerian truck came to bring us food, medicine and clothing. From there we were taken to Tifariti because the Morrocan airforce continued bombing and in Um Draiga many people had been wounded and killed. We waiting in Tifariti for 2 days. I did what all of the others did, making my melfa into a sort of tent to protect the little ones from the sun. This was worth little to protect them from the cold of the night and the pouring rain. Others dug pits next to the trees to protect themselves. After two long days another truck came and brought us to Rabuni, leaving many of our people behind us waiting. As soon as we left the Morrocan airforce began dropping more bombs. Getting out in Rabuni the truck immediately headed back from where we had come to collect more refugees.<\/span><\/i><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><b>HAADIZ \/\/ ACCIDENTE \/\/ ACCIDENT <\/b><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<blockquote><p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">Afortunadamente no he tenido accidentes graves. En los viajes lo paso mal cuando hay curvas o cuando el avi\u00f3n inesperadamente se mueve. Suelo gritar \u201c\u00a1Mulana! \u00a1Mulana!\u201d (\u00a1Dios m\u00edo! \u00a1Dios m\u00edo!).<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p>Pero tengo una experiencia horrible de un accidente que tiene que ver con mi carrera musical, en los inicios del grupo Luali. Fu\u00e9 en 1978, acab\u00e1bamos de celebrar el anniversario del 27 de Febrero y nos llamaron para una gira por Etiop\u00eda. A m\u00ed, a Kaziza, Um Murguia, Halida, Mora, Brahim, Salek y Tammy.<\/p>\n<p>Salimos enseguida desde Tinduf por la noche, porque el 8 de marzo ya ten\u00edamos conciertos. Todo el mundo estaba muy cansado tras los conciertos del 27 de febrero. \u00cdbamos dos coches. Cuando pasamos un pueblo peque\u00f1o llamado Hejbeit, se qued\u00f3 un coche un poco atr\u00e1s y el otro se fue corriendo. Entonces el conductor se durmi\u00f3 y el coche se sali\u00f3 y dio varias vueltas de campana. Fue un accidente muy grave. Murieron Halida y Salek, y Kaziza se qued\u00f3 sin memoria.<\/p>\n<p>Los que \u00edbamos en el coche primero seguimos y seguimos, pero ve\u00edamos que no aparec\u00eda nunca la luz del otro coche. Paramos para ver si llegaban. En esto pas\u00f3 un cami\u00f3n argelino y le preguntamos y nos dijo que un coche con saharauis\u00a0 hab\u00eda tenido un accidente y que hab\u00eda muertos. Todos nos pusimos muy nerviosos. Tammy nos hizo bajar y volvi\u00f3 el solo y encontr\u00f3 al conductor chorreando sangre con un golpe en la cabeza y Kaziza que no sab\u00eda d\u00f3nde estaba, ni si era de noche o de d\u00eda, y los otros dos muertos. Nos quedamos toda la noche en la carretera. Todos muy tristes.<\/p>\n<p>En un pueblo antes de Bechar dejamos a los muertos y a Kaziza y al conductor herido en un hospital y seguimos para Argel. Llegamos por la tarde y por la ma\u00f1ana cogimos el avi\u00f3n. Argel, Par\u00eds, Roma, Mostar, Sud\u00e1n y Etiop\u00eda. Cinco aviones hasta Abdis Abeba. All\u00ed al llegar al teatro nos esperaba una foto grande de Halida muerta con un velo negro rode\u00e1ndole la cara. Estuvimos dos semanas con conciertos. Yo llevaba uniforme militar y Um Murguia ropa tradicional. En uno de esos conciertos representamos, como si fuera una peque\u00f1a obra de teatro, el accidente.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<h6>English<\/h6>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i>Fortunately, I never had any serious accidents. When I\u2019m travelling I do get scared if a sharp curve is taken too fast or a plane suddenly jolts in the air. I just scream Mulana! Mulana! (Dear God! Dear God!)<\/i><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i>But there is one horrible accident, which tainted the beginnings of my musical career, just when we started the group Luali. It was in 1978, we had just celebrated the anniversary of The 27<sup>th<\/sup> of February (our \u201cIndependence Day\u201d) when we were asked to go on tour in Ethiopia: Kaziza, Um Murguia, Halida, Mora, Brahim, Salek, Tammy and me.<\/i><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i>We left immediately, driving by night in two cars from Tindouf because we had concerts scheduled starting the 8<sup>th<\/sup> of March. We were all exhausted because of the concerts we\u2019d given for The 27<sup>th<\/sup> of February. When we reached the tiny village of Heibeit the second car had fallen a bit behind us while we were racing ahead. It was then that the driver of the other car dozed off, he veered off the road and the car flipped a number of times. Halida, and Salek died. Kaziza, survived but couldn\u2019t remember a moment of the accident. <\/i><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i>Those of us in the front car continued on until we finally realized that we were no longer seeing the lights of the other car behind us. So, we stopped and waited for them to catch up. While we were waiting an Algerian truck came along the road which we stopped to ask the driver if he\u2019d passed their car. He said that a car of Sahrawi\u2019s had been in an accident and that some of the passengers had died. We were all shocked and scared. Tammy went back while we waited there and he found the driver gushing blood from his head and Kaziza was delirious, he had no idea if it was day or night or where he was. The other two were already dead. We spent the entire night by the roadside, utterly despondent.<\/i><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><i>We drove the corpses to a town near Bechar and left Kaziza and the wounded driver at the hospital. Then we continued on to the airport in Algiers. We got there in the afternoon and caught a flight the next morning for Paris, continuing to Roma, Mostar, Sudan and finally we arrived in Abdis Abeba. They drove us to the concert-hall where we were met by a large picture of Halida, dead, with a black cloth draped around his face. We performed for 2 weeks straight. I wore military garb and Um Murguia wore traditional dress. We performed in one of these concerts the accident as a theatrical play. <\/i><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><b>CUBA<\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<blockquote><p><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">Mi relaci\u00f3n con Cuba se limita a mi participaci\u00f3n en el XI Festival Mundial de la Juventud y los Estudiantes que se celebr\u00f3 en La Habana en 1978. Su lema era: \u00a1Por la solidaridad antiimperialista, la paz y la amistad! En \u00e9l participaron 145 pa\u00edses. Recuerdo tambi\u00e9n que en aqu\u00e9l verano tuvo lugar un golpe de estado en Mauritania que permiti\u00f3 la liberaci\u00f3n de los territorios que hab\u00eda ocupado en el S\u00e1hara Occidental.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p align=\"JUSTIFY\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">Tuvo lugar a finales de julio y asist\u00ed con el grupo M\u00e1rtir Luali, que se hab\u00eda creado a principios de a\u00f1o. Viajamos a Cuba en barco, tanto a la ida como a la vuelta. Salimos del puerto de Or\u00e1n. Fueron 15 d\u00edas para ir y otros tantos para volver. En la isla estuvimos la semana que dur\u00f3 el festival. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p align=\"JUSTIFY\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">El barco transportaba a las delegaciones de los pa\u00edses africanos que participaban en el festival, de modo que cada noche organiz\u00e1bamos nuestro particular festival con conciertos de los m\u00fasicos que viaj\u00e1bamos. As\u00ed se hizo m\u00e1s llevadero el trayecto.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p align=\"JUSTIFY\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">En el momento de nuestra presentaci\u00f3n, la delegaci\u00f3n marroqu\u00ed nos atac\u00f3 con piedras, tomates y huevos. Las fuerzas de seguridad cubanas y argelinas nos defendieron. La direcci\u00f3n del festival cancel\u00f3 la participaci\u00f3n de Marruecos en el evento.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p align=\"JUSTIFY\"><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">Menos suerte tuve 30 a\u00f1os despu\u00e9s con CUBADISCO 2008, dedicado a \u00c1frica y su di\u00e1spora. Hab\u00eda sido seleccionada para asistir pero andaba renovando mis papeles y no llegaron a tiempo. Fue una pena pues mi hijo mayor estaba estudiando all\u00ed y ten\u00eda doble motivo para ir. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<h6>English<\/h6>\n<p align=\"JUSTIFY\"><em><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">My relationship with Cuba is limited to my participation in the XI World Festival of Youth and Students held in Havana in July 1978. The theme of the event was \u201canti-imperialist solidarity, peace and friendship\u201d. It was attended by 145 countries. During July 1978, I also remember the military coup in Mauritania and the consequent liberation of the occupied territories in Western Sahara previously invaded by aforementioned country.<\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n<p align=\"JUSTIFY\"><em><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">I went with the group Martyr Lualy, being my first participation with the band after its creation in 1976. We travelled to Cuba by ship from Oran. The ship was carrying delegations of African countries participating in the festival. The long trade took 15 days to Cuba. On board, we organized our particular concerts with the touring musicians. This cheerful mood made the journey more bearable. On the island, I stayed during the week-long festival. <\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n<p align=\"JUSTIFY\"><em><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">At the time of our presentation, the Moroccan delegation attacked us throwing stones, tomatoes and eggs. At that moment, the Algerians and the Cuban security forces defended us. The festival organisation decided to cancel the participation of Morocco in this international event. <\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n<p align=\"JUSTIFY\"><em><span style=\"font-family: Arial, sans-serif;\"><span style=\"font-size: medium;\">I had even less luck with CUBADISCO 30 years after 2008, dedicated to Africa and its diaspora. I was selected to attend but my new passport did not arrive on time. It was a shame because my oldest son was studying there and had double reason to go to Cuba.<\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>MARIEM HASSAN \u00b7 la Voz del S\u00e1hara \u00b7 the Voice of the Sahara Al subir a promonubenegra, nuestro canal en YouTube, el documental producido en 2008 por canalmicro y Nubenegra, aprovechamos para incorporar al blog otras tres palabras en hasan\u00eda y lo que dichos t\u00e9rminos representaban para Mariem: ahrab, haadiz y Cuba. Versi\u00f3n en Ingl\u00e9s: &hellip; <\/p>\n<p class=\"link-more\"><a href=\"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/2018\/05\/mariem-hassan-la-voz-del-sahara\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continuar leyendo<span class=\"screen-reader-text\"> &#8220;Mariem Hassan, documental &#8220;La Voz del S\u00e1hara&#8221;&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[28,14,12,4,25,52],"tags":[41,9,5,7,8,10],"class_list":["post-226","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-africa","category-el-legado-de-nubenegra","category-la-voz-indomita","category-mariem-hassan","category-saharauis","category-video","tag-documental","tag-haul-music","tag-la-voz-indomita","tag-saharauis","tag-the-indomitable-voice","tag-world-music"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9ibFM-3E","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/226","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=226"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/226\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":235,"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/226\/revisions\/235"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=226"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=226"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nubenegra.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=226"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}