Ketty Teanga learned to dance in a drag show in Puerto Rico in the 60s. Then a slim teen increasingly uncomfortable in a male body, she did salsa dancing dressed in skimpy women’s outfits, the closest she could come to looking the way she felt. “There was no silicone, no hormones, nothing,” she says. “Everything was illusion–fake wigs, fake titties.”
When she arrived in Chicago she couldn’t find a drag revue in any of the Latino clubs she went to. “Only in American clubs,” she says. “There was no acceptance by Spanish people.” In the early 80s a coworker took her to El Infierno, a gay club at 28th and Sacramento in Little Village. It was owned by Juan Alanis, a flamboyant, well-loved man who dressed as a woman called Juanita Banana. Teanga got along well with Alanis and persuaded him to let her host a drag show at the club. “I sang, but I sang very ugly,” she says. “But I made the show by taking off my clothes. I had a beautiful body then–skinny!” She daintily lifts one pinky finger.
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La Cueva is still unassuming on the outside, but the performers say they now feel comfortable in the neighborhood, partly because the club has been there so long, partly because being openly gay or transgender is more accepted in the Latino community. Obejas says La Cueva, which is packed for every show, still stands out among gay clubs. “It’s this zone of tolerance where you have gay people and straight people,” she says. “Most of the downtown drag bars are geared toward straight people–they reaffirm straightness and reaffirm gender roles.”
La Cueva is now run by Ruben Lechuga, and he and Teanga have a sometimes stormy friendship. “We love her,” says Lechuga. “This is her home. Like me, she never misses a show. We never get tired of it.” But during a recent show he said Teanga and the other dancers were holding back on some of their elaborate stage entrances. “She’s mad at me,” he said, looking amused. “That’s her form of punishment. She’s trying to get some attention.” He wouldn’t elaborate. Instead he said good-naturedly, “She’s a hard worker. I admire her a lot. She’s a real perfectionist.” Two weeks later the dramatic stage entrances were back, and Teanga was at the mike more than usual. Lechuga stood smiling right next to the stage.
Where: La Cueva, 4153 W. 26th St.
