Living by the Rhythm of Boats in Hanabanilla, Cuba
In the middle of the lagoon, a private restaurant offers visitors local products: chicken, lamb, goat, pork, and fish.
HAVANA TIMES – Surrounded by hills and lush nature, the Hanabanilla Reservoir, in the heart of the Escambray mountains, is an idyllic landscape far removed from the garbage and unsanitary conditions of Cuban cities. In this area, people are poor in the old-fashioned way: they build their own houses with royal palm wood and raise the animals that later end up on their tables. In some isolated hamlets, electricity hasn’t even arrived.
Life isn’t easy for the country folk, but in Hanabanilla — even on the small islands in the middle of the reservoir — people have always been accustomed to moving around in boats and fishing for their food. “For the people on this side, the little boat comes early in the morning, at seven, and picks them up, taking the children to school. And at four, it brings them back,” explains one of the reservoir’s residents.
The hamlets have existed for decades, and in the 1950s, when “a US American” wanted to build the hydroelectric plant that Fidel Castro would later nationalize in the 1960s, they were — according to the official version in Ecured — the scene of “one of the most shameful episodes in Cuba’s history: the eviction of humble farmers from the Siguanea Valley; mostly Galician immigrants who worked primarily in coffee cultivation.”
“In the old town there were houses, schools, stores — everything. The US American who was going to build the dam there bought the houses from the people who lived down stream,” the locals say. Despite the harsh criticism of the “Yankee” project, the Revolution continued the work on the reservoir and also turned it into a tourist destination. “All that was done by the US Americans. Only a few engines were missing. In ’61 the Revolution closed it, and then they brought Czech engines,” says one resident proudly, recalling when the hydroelectric plant was finally put into operation.
Around Hanabanilla, and thanks to Fidel Castro’s influence, numerous businesses sprang up — now in decline due to the lack of visitors. Some, however, survive, and El Guajiro, a well-known paladar among locals and anyone who has ever visited the reservoir, is one such example. The only way to reach the rustic restaurant is by boat, and as soon as visitors approach the shore, they can hear the whistle of hot oil and smell the aroma of grilled meat.
The bohío, made entirely of wood, serves everything that’s missing elsewhere on the island for prices between 1,800 and 2,000 pesos: “chicken, lamb, goat, pork steak or fried pork, and fish.” Each dish comes with a serving of rice, root vegetables, and salad, and everything, the cook assures, is produced right there at the restaurant. “We raise the pigs ourselves, and also grow yuca and malanga… The reservoir gives us the fish — trout and tilapia,” he says proudly.
He recalls that, years ago, you could even see deer coming down from the hills to drink at the shore. “Right there in the reservoir I used to catch them while they swam. Those are things that are disappearing here. If I don’t catch them, someone else will,” he reflects.
The ability to make use of local resources is a relief for the farmers. According to the man, who divides his time between the reservoir and the nearby town of Cumanayagua, “Here [in the hamlet] you can live without electricity. Down there [in town] I can’t live without it — the mosquitoes, the desperation, not having anything to cook with. But here, no. Here we use charcoal all the time, for everything.”
Businesses like El Guajiro, one of the first paladares, founded “before 2012,” according to its owner, mark the rhythm of life at the reservoir. “You get to the [Hanabanilla] hotel or anywhere on the reservoir and tell the boatman, ‘I want to eat at El Guajiro’s place,’ and they’ll bring you here to eat. They have to bring them here, and we serve lunch to the boatman right away,” the worker explains.
The paladar also has other workers who, when they’re on full-day shifts, sleep in a small house near the restaurant — made, like all the others, of wood.
The boatmen, a tight-knit group of locals who have been sailing the reservoir for years, also have their own businesses offering sightseeing tours around its various corners of the reservoir. “We take excursions to Jibacoa, from Jibacoa to the canopy, then to the waterfall and to the farmer’s house [the paladar], and another tour we offer is to El Nicho,” explains one of them.
The canopy — where visitors zip across the reservoir suspended from a thick cable — is a very recent attraction. Installed just last year, it’s “the longest in Cuba, in the Jibacoa–Hanabanilla park,” says one of the operators, dressed in gloves, helmet, and harnesses.
Boats and barges are part of the ecosystem. Every family has one — some motorized, others rowed. The country folk, surrounded by ancient Taíno place names like Hanabanilla, Jibacoa, and Cumanayagua, prefer to christen their boats with more modern names, such as Natalia or Príncipe.
The boats go back and forth from the Hanabanilla Hotel, a multi-story building commissioned by Fidel Castro that, over the years and with increasing decay, has lost much of its charm. Still, most tourists who visit the area pass through there.
As night begins to fall, music and the clatter of kitchenware can be heard from the hotel, though it’s mostly empty. On the shore, a few boats — two or three — wait at a tiny floating dock for any visitor eager for a ride across the reservoir, though demand is as scarce as the hotel boats themselves. Many visitors now prefer to hire private boatmen.
With time, as the hotel complex decayed, engines broke down, hulls developed irreparable leaks, and the boatmen left, the hotel itself turned into a kind of boat cemetery. Around it, dozens of vessels rest upside down, now serving as shelters for lizards, snails, and small animals.
First published in Spanish by 14ymedio and translated and posted in English by Havana Times.