Eventually, we say goodbye to the chemistry students and go visit Tania, an artist friend of mine, who takes us to the Casa de la Joven Creador to hear some novissima trova (rock-influenced, folky music). The kids have long hair and are a mix of black, white, and mulatto, just like in the Benetton ads that should be appearing here shortly (Benetton has already opened a store on the beach). The music's pretty lame, but no worse than rock anywhere else in Latin America. At another club, a hi-tech sound system pumps out the latest phat beats from the States (Keith Sweat, New Jack City, El Perrito). There's one incredibly bright light illuminating the whole place, and when my eyes adjust, I see a roomful of young black kids, all dressed homeboy-style, with fades, Egyptian hedges and shine heads. We buy some agua de cana and with the bottle comes a group of instant friends.