A voice from the audience awakens the dark theater. No instrument accompanies it. The song to the African spirits rises to the stage. It seems like a plea in a language of bygone times or an invitation to Haitian essences, as if tradition had suddenly materialized. There are no bells, candles, or altars... But, Petit Dancé is turning 100.

From the platform, the tribute sincerely plays with the syncretism of a thousand religions fused into one, flirting with the most indigenous rhythms and drawing on folklore to the beat of drums. Only a distant light reflects off the fused bodies. Before, Titina's voice echoed.

With their heads covered in the yellow of their endeavors, the representative group of the Franco-Haitian culture occupies the first four rows on the far left of the lunetarium. They enjoy the reception at the Tunas Theater, which singers, dancers, and reciters dedicate to them in gratitude to the generations who emerged to spread the art of the cabildo among mere mortals.

Now, it's their turn to rise! Martha, the priestess, heir to the magical-religious ceremonies, begins to wave a dress that has made a pact with time. Galina can be heard throughout the city, and the dances become more lively, intimate, and authentic.

It's hard to say goodbye to this brotherhood of traditions that freely gives joy and strength. Standing, the audience bursts into applause. Thank you, Petit Dancé!

…
It was a gathering of warm acknowledgments on behalf of the Provincial Center of Cultural Houses at the request of its National Council, the Amateur Artists Movement, the Tomasa Varona Cultural House, the community, and many other organizations that distinguish the heat of the Haitian imprint.