Life in 13-Story Buildings Without Elevators in Matanzas, Cuba
The elevator in the El Polinesio building has not worked for months, and in Las Panaderías it took more than two years to repair the breakdown.
By Pablo Padilla Cruz (14ymedio)
HAVANA TIMES — Residents of the well-known 13-story buildings in Matanzas are exhausted. Literally so. Of the four that exist, three currently have elevators with serious breakdowns; some have even been out of service for years, and the ones still operating suffer constant failures.
“The elevator hasn’t worked for months, and it’s not even that old. We’ve contacted the Housing office, but they only give us half-answers,” says a resident who lives on the 11th floor.
Inaugurated in the 1980s, these buildings on the road to Varadero that were once points of reference are today an inexhaustible source of problems due to lack of maintenance, affecting a large number of families who suffer insecurity and a decline in their quality of life.
“I had cancer surgery some years ago and I can’t strain myself. Before, with the elevator, despite the blackouts, we could adjust to the schedules, but now I spend weeks without being able to leave the apartment. On top of that, the stairways are in bad condition, and like me there are many elderly neighbors who suffer as well. No one responds, no one provides a solution,” the woman adds.
Dasiel, the administrator of the building known as El Polinesio, is also desperate over the authorities’ lack of responsibility.
“My job is difficult, and the lack of responses from the Housing office to the problems makes it even more complicated. I’m responsible for 154 apartments, in addition to this one,” he explains to 14ymedio, although, by his account, he is far from the only one.
“As you can see in this area, being close to the sea, there’s always wind, and the green areas are full of garbage blown in from nearby micro-dumps. We also have problems with the handrails and stairways, and as has been reported, the façade of the building is coming loose right at the front,” he adds.
El Polinesio has a restaurant on its rooftop that has now been leased to a private business, creating new problems.
“In the past, it had its own elevator for customers and cargo. When ours broke down, residents on the upper floors used it and saved themselves several flights. It’s not the same to go down four floors from El Polinesio as it is to climb eight from the ground floor. But now that the restaurant has been leased to private operators, they decided not to deal with repairing the elevator and instead set up a small shop there. Now there isn’t even an elevator for customers, and worst of all, the merchandise is going to be brought up using the residents’ elevator,” says Dasiel, who fears—given Housing’s responses—that the problem will not be solved in the coming years.
The story of the elevators in these buildings is nothing new. After more than two years without an elevator in the 13-story building of Las Panaderías, as another of these buildings is known, and following efforts by many residents—who even appeared before the Council of State—a new one was finally installed.
“I’ve been working on this elevator since it was installed. I only interrupted my work during the covid pandemic. Although I don’t live in the building, I’m from the neighborhood and I know the difference having—or not having—an elevator makes for those who live here,” explains Ramón.
“With the blackouts, the control panel for selecting floors has problems—it won’t stop before the 4th floor. Fortunately, it does stop on the upper floors, but when we called to see if they could replace it, the technicians said there wasn’t another one available.”
Ramon says the only brigade that services all the elevators in the province spends most of its time attending to the hotels in Varadero.
“It seems that foreigners’ comfort has a higher priority,” he protests.
Moreover, his working conditions have little to do with the paradise promised by the Revolution to workers.
“I earn very little and I have to work 12-hour shifts inside the elevator. Now, with the blackouts, it’s worse because I have to calculate the time so I don’t get trapped inside. I’m already 72 years old and it’s very hard for me to get out when the elevator gets stuck between floors. Sometimes several neighbors have had to help me out. I know it won’t be long before I can’t continue this job, and even though I don’t earn much—it’s like a symbolic salary—something is something,” he says resignedly.
Life in the 13-story buildings continues to be a daily struggle for their residents, who face poor planning by Housing, lack of spare parts, and the apathy of the authorities. In addition, the idea of calling firefighters to escape an unexpected breakdown can make things worse.
“Firefighters are the relief for people who get stuck, because their priority is to get them out as quickly as possible, but they are the mechanics’ worst fear. They know firefighters will often act with excessive force and in a rush to extract individuals, without thinking much about the damage they’ll cause to the equipment,” says a resident of another of these blocks.
“In our building,” she notes, “the firefighters hacked down with axes, weeks ago, the wooden door that gave access to the elevator machine room on the rooftop. When they arrived, the person who had the key couldn’t be located. The result: to this day there’s no door protecting that room from vandalism, theft, or unauthorized entry—something that puts the elevator’s operation at risk,” she recounts. The energy crisis also constantly strains the machinery.
The ongoing disaster has also led some residents, to spare themselves the effort of going down, lowering baskets on ropes from their balconies to receive deliveries or purchases. Others, resigned, climb at their own pace, carrying everything from food to furniture to gas cylinders. And the stairs make no distinction between the healthy and the sick.
First published in Spanish by 14ymedio and translated and posted in English by Havana Times.