Even if everyone wants to talk about sex, the most intimate aspects of a culture are the little things, which are often the most opaque. Jokes, toilet etiquette, and mutual deferrals in doorways mark shared achievements of mutual recognition. But humor and bodily practices can be the least translatable of cultural identifiers. Diaspora and foreign observers tend to overlook local class differences and a deep-seated culture of political skepticism, fixating instead on more superficial revelations of sexual behavior that may not be so surprising. How do we translate cultural differences? Is it even possible to understand each other’s jokes?

Mapping the statements of Afro-Cuban artists on the Afrodescendant social condition and their cultural heritage during the revolutionary period, this chapter delves into the Afro-centric art of Manuel Mendive, Rafael Queneditt, Rogelio Rodríguez Cobas, and others who, during the 1960s–1980s, pointed their emphasis to the Yoruba and Bantú worlds that shaped Antillean societies despite the regime’s religious intolerance. Along with Adelaida Herrera Valdés, Julia Valdés Borrero, and others, they formed the Group Antillano, the first visual art collective grounded on notions of Afrodescendant consciousness that Cuba had ever experienced. The chapter moves chronologically, noting how what could constitute the groundbreaking “New Cuban Art” of the post-1959 period is not Volumen I, but the art of the Queloides collective. While their works were not the first to be concerned with issues of structural racism, they were an unprecedented endeavor that moved beyond previous reformist visions and instead aimed to dismantle the fundamental tenets of Cuban national narratives. The chapter concludes with the internationalization of Afro-Cuban art and how migration and diaspora shape the work of contemporary Afro-Cuban artists.

This chapter reposits the dominant narrative of the United States to shift away from a monolithic identification whereby American means English speaking and Christian, to one that embraces plurality and difference in its origins, and specifically includes the Sephardim as a group that was part of this foundational effort. The Sephardic Diaspora in New England was connected through trade to the early modern Atlantic world (1640–1830). Within the boundaries of the present-day United States, Charleston, South Carolina, New York, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island were key nodes in these commercial and slave networks. These merchants who fled from religious persecution in the Iberian Peninsula and sought religious freedoms in New England, also became slave traders who made huge profits on trafficking the freedom of others. Although often espousing endogamous ideals for unions, the lived reality of those members of the Sephardic Diaspora demonstrates how race became a contested site of identity for practitioners of the Jewish faith living in widely disparate places.

This chapter examines a US Central American experience at the end of the long nineteenth century, as reflected in Centro America, a newspaper established by the Comité Unionista Centroamericano de San Francisco in support of the final, formal effort to establish an isthmian nation in 1921. A rare literary text, Centro America provides a cultural account of the complexities and contradictions that shaped the transnational lives of an early Central American diaspora in the US. The weekly paper published unionist essays, the latest local and global news, literary reviews, poems, society columns, and passenger arrival and departure notices that catered to an audience composed of primarily Central American coffee and other elites. However, Centro America also published a letter written by Abel Romero, a Salvadoran, working-class machinist, urging the paper to speak out against El Salvador’s authoritarian government. By allowing different forms of writing to cohabitate, a complex imaginative space emerges in the paper wherein clashing political and class interests create conflict among Central American communities. Print culture, I contend, visibilizes ruptures that emerged in Centro America when elites were confronted by the economic precarity that burdened their countrymen in San Francisco, from whom they asked and largely received unionist support.

Zuzanna Olszewska explores the poetic and literary agency of Muslim women across time and genres. The chapter reviews both literary and anthropological studies that have deepened our understanding of the importance of written scholarship and oral poetry produced by Muslim women. It also presents a case study of Muslim female poets of Afghani origin now living in the diaspora.

Maria Jaschok analyzes the opportunities and challenges faced by Muslim women living as a minority, particularly in contexts where religion is under pressure. The chapter highlights the dynamism exhibited by female imams (ahongs) in China, who have strategically leveraged the pressure on male authority imposed by the Chinese state to carve out a larger role for themselves. The chapter also shows how these women seek to connect with the global Muslim community, or ummah, while relating Islam to their everyday realities.

This chapter concentrates on another significant element of the Irish Catholic Church’s transnational fundraising, namely the collecting tours on behalf of church-building projects that Irish clerics regularly conducted in diaspora destinations, including but not limited to the US. Based on close analysis of a series of surviving personal diaries and letters produced by collecting priests in the second half of the nineteenth century, this chapter outlines the difficulties, including hostile resident clergy, that collecting priests faced, explores the emotions of religious fundraising, for both giver and receiver, and assesses the place that such epic fundraising tours have in the narratives that surrounded Ireland’s newly built Catholic infrastructure.

This chapter concentrates on church buildings, arguing that while they were one of the most significant products of the Catholic Church’s fundraising in this period, they were also, in themselves, important sites of both highly public and deeply intimate fundraising. Taking a material culture approach, the chapter treats a sample of churches built in the post-Famine era as sources that illuminate important aspects of the financial relationship between people and priests. It first discusses the widespread understanding of the church as the ‘house of God’. It then analyses the phenomenon of sponsorship of material and sacred items in the church interior via memorial inscriptions, as well as the interaction of lay people with shrines and a variety of collecting boxes commonly located inside chapels.

This chapter explores the emergence, from the 1860s, of lotteries as a crucial fundraising tool for the Irish Catholic Church, one especially used to acquire capital to construct its rapidly growing built infrastructure. The chapter establishes the scale of the ‘drawings of prizes’ phenomenon, before arguing that lotteries worked effectively as a fundraising mechanism because they facilitated broad class engagement among the laity at home and held transnational appeal to the diaspora and non-Catholics alike. This chapter finally traces the roles of sectarian tensions, social and economic change, and legal limits in the gradual decline of such lotteries by the 1910s.

The phenomenon of ‘Ireland’s spiritual empire’, denoting the influence that Irish churches had on the world through lay and clerical migration in the (very) long nineteenth century, has attracted considerable attention from both contemporary commentators and historians. Yet the converse reality that national churches so embroiled in the global growth of their religions must also have undergone far-reaching changes themselves in the process has been much less studied. Focusing on both Catholic and Protestant churches, this chapter will address a number of modes of religious ‘Americanisation’ that can be detected in Ireland between 1841 and 1925. These will include: the backflow of a ‘cosmopolitan clergy’ who frequently spent long periods in North America and returned to Ireland as potential agents of a religiously inflected Americanisation; the visits of Irish-American and ‘Scotch-Irish’ clergy to Ireland; and the material role that a much-vaunted American religious ‘freedom’ played in the imaginaries of both Catholic and Protestant Irish people, enhanced by both media portrayals and discussion in personal correspondence.

‘Every year Ireland becomes more and more Americanized’, or so the famed journalist W. T. Stead believed at the turn of the twentieth century. But what did people understand by ‘Americanisation’ and who was doing the Americanising? The term was not uncommon in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, used by a range of political figures, writers and commentators, typically with reference to mass migration. At the time of Stead’s comment nearly two million Irish-born people resided in the United States. Through their communications and return journeys to Ireland, emigrants became the primary image-makers of America in Ireland, making distinctive interventions in the development of political ideas and organisational models in Ireland. This chapter examines perceptions of the impact of the United States, and Irish America, on Irish politics and how different American influences were welcomed, withstood, filtered, and were in competition with each other in the period from the end of the Great Famine to the 1920s. They made significant contributions to different types of political activity in Ireland, but they were always entangled with a range of other transnational influences.