Wandering the Streets of Havana
Photo Feature by Irina Pino
HAVANA TIMES – When walking down the street, it’s almost impossible not to see a landscape of decay. Everything has transformed into hopelessness. The surroundings are hostile, with broken sidewalks, trash bins overflowing at corners —sometimes with garbage scattered on the ground— or sewage water that must be avoided to arrive clean at our destination.
“The street is hard” is a popular phrase that reflects the current situation. It’s all-encompassing, where only a few manage to rise above it.
Since the last hurricane, little has returned to normal. In many areas of Vedado —a neighborhood highly regarded for its beautiful residences and tree-lined streets— issues with water supply persist, ongoing for months now. The same is happening in Alamar. People are paying exorbitant prices for water trucks to fill the apartment building cisterns, ensuring access to this essential resource for life.
And why even mention the prices at agricultural markets and private stores, draining money from the population like modern vampires? The other day, I saw that a pound of lemons costs 400 pesos. Vitamin C now equals a precious metal.
When I go to the market to buy root vegetables, fruits, and greens, I have to walk to Vedado, as the markets in my municipality are more expensive and farther away. This means crossing the 5th Avenue tunnel, which was recently restored —or rather, repainted blue and slightly patched up. Inside, there was graffiti, the kind that are abundant throughout the city. However, on the Miramar side, sewage water and the accompanying stench remain. I have no choice but to hold my breath as I pass through.
Walking along Línea Street, I notice an elderly woman, probably close to 80. She has a broom and dustpan and dedicates herself to sweeping the sidewalk daily. I assume this is her first task of the day. Perhaps it’s her way of clearing away all the negativity around her. Sweeping away filth could also mean a form of spiritual cleansing.
Another woman also catches my attention. She sits daily on a doorstep near the store on 18th Street, just outside the tunnel. Always dressed neatly, she wears an expression of nostalgia, her gaze lost in the distance. Is she reminiscing about her youth or better times in Cuba?
One thing that remains intact is our malecón, where fishermen position themselves, hoping for a gift from the sea to feed their families.
Street photography has become a habit. I think it serves as an important gauge of what’s happening in a country.
