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Songs That Move You: 'Ojalá Que Llueva Café' by Juan Luis Guerra

A MARTÍNEZ, HOST:

Next, we hear a song that exploded into popularity in 1989 in a changing New York City. It's from our friends at the radio show and podcast Alt.Latino hosted by Felix Contreras and Anamaria Sayre. It's part of a new series called Songs That Move You.

(SOUNDBITE OF JUAN LUIS GUERRA SONG, "OJALÁ QUE LLUEVA CAFÉ")

CLAUDIA CRUZ: I do not know if I started wondering about why people migrated and left their homelands until the song came out.

FELIX CONTRERAS, BYLINE: That's Claudia Cruz. She is a journalism professor living in Reno, Nevada. She says her heart is always in her native Dominican Republic, and more specifically in Queens, New York, where she grew up.

ANAMARIA SAYRE, BYLINE: OK, but, Felix, to set the scene for the song that she chose - which I love, by the way - we have to step back and take a look at the Dominican community, not just in New York but across the country.

CONTRERAS: OK, so in the 1980s and '90s, there was a lot of migration from the island to New York. A lot of that migration was due to a struggling economy, drought and the agricultural decline of the country - big-picture things, right? Juan Luis Guerra wrote a song that spoke to that moment so effectively that the song has become iconic.

SAYRE: And it's this lyricism, right, Felix? Like, the way he paints a picture of the island, of his country, of the loss in such a poetic way - oh, it gives me chills.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "OJALÁ QUE LLUEVA CAFÉ")

JUAN LUIS GUERRA: (Singing) Ojalá que llueva café en el campo... Peinar un alto cerro de trigo y mapuey... Bajar por la colina de arroz graneado... Y continuar el arado con tu querer...

SAYRE: I hope it rains coffee in the field, so a high hill of wheat and mapuey go down the hill of grained rice and continue the plowing with your will. It seems to me like the song was directed to this Dominican diaspora that we're talking about - right? - floating all around the world to reflect the anguish of having to leave your country and still love it so much.

CRUZ: All of a sudden, I began to understand why my parents left and why it was difficult for them to decide to return because what jobs would there be on the island, unless it rained coffee - right? - unless it rained trigo, unless it rained rice and wheat and some of the other beautiful metaphors that Juan Luis Guerra just brilliantly weaves throughout the song.

CONTRERAS: You know, after this song was released, it seemed to be everywhere. It was on the radio. It was on TV. It was in bodegas. It was in cafes, even in the school assembly in Claudia's largely Dominican middle school, where she was experiencing her own preteen sense of self-discovery. The popularity of the song also offered a nuanced cultural reflection of Afro Caribbean New York in the 1980s.

CRUZ: I was about 12 years old when the song came out. I was leaving my household and venturing around the city. And in New York City, the established community was the Puerto Rican community, and the community before that was the Cuban community. And Dominicans were slowly growing. So all of a sudden, we were, at least on the radio, now at par with the salsa that was playing. All of a sudden, you have this merengue appear and just made you feel like you belonged in the U.S.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "OJALÁ QUE LLUEVA CAFÉ")

GUERRA: (Singing in Spanish).

SAYRE: Songs like this matter because, yes, you hear them everywhere, but you hear those words everywhere, right?

CONTRERAS: Right.

SAYRE: And so the power of that language with just the right melody, I mean, it touches all of our deepest emotions.

CONTRERAS: The lyrics Juan Luis Guerra wrote for this song, "Ojalá Que Llueva Café," are very, very important. Now, think about the word ojalá. It's a Spanish word that means, I hope. Its roots are from the Middle Ages when the Moors, or Muslims from North Africa, ruled southern Spain. Ojalá comes from the Arabic expression, inshallah, or God willing. So for me, the song always felt like a prayer, and - which can be more personal than just some song to sing along with. And when you combine it with Juan Luis Guerra's almost angelic voice, it becomes a prayer for hope.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "OJALÁ QUE LLUEVA CAFÉ")

GUERRA: (Singing) Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, ojalá que llueva café...

CONTRERAS: So the song was released in 1989, before the Latin Grammys even started. But since then, he's won over 20 Latin Grammys. He's sold over 30 million albums worldwide. All of this reflects the admiration, not just of the public but of the Spanish-language music industry. But the personal impact he had on Dominicans like Claudia Cruz is what made him practically a staple of Dominican households everywhere.

CRUZ: He became a role model. All of a sudden, it was OK to be Dominican and aspire to be great, just like Juan Luis Guerra. I mean, it still moves me to think about what he's done for our community and the permission he's given us to contribute to this country.

CONTRERAS: You know, Ana, when I asked Claudia what she would say to Juan Luis Guerra about this song, the tearful emotions of a 12-year-old recently arrived immigrant came pouring out of a slightly older college professor.

CRUZ: Wow, you're going to make me cry, Felix. If I could talk to Juan Luis Guerra about the song, it was just to thank him. I mean, really, like, this song, as a 12-year-old, made me proud to be a Dominican in this country 'cause I feel like I could accomplish things. And then there's hope.

CONTRERAS: That hope, that sense of community really comes through the section at the end of the song, where the chorus is repeated while Juan Luis Guerra is improvising on the verse. The repetition makes it feel like a prayer.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "OJALÁ QUE LLUEVA CAFÉ")

GUERRA: (Singing) Ojalá que llueva café en el campo...

CONTRERAS: Then a children's choir comes in to sing the chorus at the end, and Ana, this part has always choked me up...

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "OJALÁ QUE LLUEVA CAFÉ")

GUERRA: (Singing) Ojalá que llueva café en el campo...

CONTRERAS: ...Even more so now because I hear it differently, Ana. It's as if 12-year-old Claudia is part of that chorus. In fact, it feels like every Dominican who's ever had to leave their island and struggle in their new country is a child again, singing that chorus.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "OJALÁ QUE LLUEVA CAFÉ")

GUERRA: (Singing) Ojalá que llueva café en el campo...

MARTÍNEZ: That's Felix Contreras and Anamaria Sayre, hosts of Alt.Latino. It's a podcast and a radio show that takes a weekly look at Latin music and culture. And they want to hear about a song that moved you like Juan Luis Guerra's song moved Claudia Cruz. Write to them at alt.latino@npr.org.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "OJALÁ QUE LLUEVA CAFÉ")

GUERRA: (Singing) Ojalá que llueva café en el campo... Pa' que en La Romana oigan este canto... Ojalá que llueva café en el campo... Ay, ojalá que llueva, ojalá que llueva, ay, hombre... Ojalá que llueva café en el campo... Ojalá que llueva café... Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.

Felix Contreras is co-creator and host of Alt.Latino, NPR's pioneering radio show and podcast celebrating Latin music and culture since 2010.
Anamaria Sayre is a multimedia producer for NPR Music with a focus on elevating Latinx stories and music. She's the producer for Alt.Latino, NPR's pioneering radio show and podcast celebrating Latin music and culture, and the curator of Latin artists at the Tiny Desk.