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  • HOME
  • ABOUT
  • THE FAMILY ALBUM
  • ONCE UPON A TIME IN ROMANIA
    • ▸Bucharest, 1989: The days of Revolution
    • ▸I’ve also lived under communism
    • ▸Portraits of transition
    • ▸”Cabernet cu pepsi”
    • ▸Romania, 1990: Beyond the headlines
    • ▸“Mineriada” – My story
    • ▸Memorial of pain
  • WORK IN PROGRESS
    • ▸Barbershop
    • ▸Melancholic Identities
    • ▸Faces
    • ▸Fragmentary world
    • ▸Two
    • ▸Buddhist monks
    • ▸About windows and walls
    • ▸Mediterraneo
  • STORIES
    • ▸Alone, together
    • ▸Life and death in Varanasi
    • ▸Trans-Siberian – An experience of becoming
    • ▸Boxing in Havana
    • ▸Moving out of Escobar shadow
    • ▸One night at Htee Thein monastery
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – I misteri
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – La pasquetta
    • ▸Stalin’s Museum in Gori
    • ▸Havana: Between magic and decay
    • ▸Muay Thai for a day
    • ▸Cuban billboards
    • ▸Seeking a geisha
    • ▸Belfast’s murals: Behind and beyond
    • ▸Riding the Yangon’s ring train
    • ▸Bazar-Barakholka-Vernisazh
    • ▸An unexpected trip to Dhobi Ghat
    • ▸A different way to look at death
    • ▸Cannes under siege
    • ▸Inside the Guru’s kitchen
    • ▸Tibetan refugees
    • ▸The Golden Triangle: A Mecca of tribal diversity
    • ▸Bullfighting: Barbaric or art ?
    • ▸Crafts and traditions in Morroco
    • ▸Glastonbury with God
  • TRAVEL
    • Cuba
      • ▸The show must go on (part 1)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 2)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 3)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 4)
    • France
      • ▸Paris
      • ▸Paris. Again
    • Greece
      • ▸Mount Athos
      • ▸Postcards from Santorini
      • ▸Athens
      • ▸Mykonos – The picture-perfect Island
    • Germany
      • ▸Berlin
    • Vietnam
      • ▸Four days in Hanoi
      • ▸Cruising through the misty Halong Bay
    • India
      • ▸Portraits of Kashmir
      • ▸Rishikesh – Spiritual marketplace
      • ▸Life on the Sidewalk
    • Ireland
      • ▸The capital of pubs
      • ▸Ireland in ten days
    • Israel
      • ▸Israel in black & white
    • Colombia
      • ▸Colombia
      • ▸Paisas, coffee and much more
      • ▸Streets of Bogota – From Dystopia to Hope
      • ▸Life along the magical Magdalena River
      • ▸A non-touristy guide to Cartagena’s Caribbean paradise
    • Myanmar
      • ▸Min-ga-la-ba Myanmar
      • ▸Up and down on the hills of Shan State
    • Japan
      • ▸Tokyo
      • ▸Springtime in Kyoto
    • Portugal
      • ▸Life at the edge of Europe
    • Russian Federation
      • ▸The unexpected Moscow
      • ▸White Nights in St. Petersburg
    • Italy
      • ▸Rome
      • ▸Random Sicily
      • ▸Vedi Napoli e poi mori
      • ▸Venice
      • ▸Vanishing Venice
    • Morocco
      • ▸Sunset, camel rides and tea in Erg Chebi
      • ▸Medinas: Morocco’s hidden cities
      • ▸Morocco outskirts
      • ▸Djemaa El Fna encounters
      • ▸Surf and hippies
      • ▸The road of the One thousand kasbahs
      • ▸Amazigh – Berber – Free men
    • Georgia
      • ▸Postcards from Georgia
      • ▸The Many Faces of Tbilisi
    • Nepal
      • ▸Kathmandu Valley
    • Romania
      • ▸Romania to go
      • ▸Maramures
      • ▸Tara Motilor
    • Jordan
      • ▸Bedouin Trails
    • Turkey
      • ▸From Turkey with love
      • ▸Ballooning Cappadocia
      • ▸Where East meets West
      • ▸Street life, Istanbul-style
    • Mexico
      • ▸Finding Mexico City
    • Malaysia
      • ▸Transit KL
    • UK
      • ▸London
      • ▸Grab your kilt and bring your pipes
    • Sweden
      • ▸Stockholm
    • Spain
      • ▸Off-season Andalusia
    • Thailand
      • ▸Bangkok, year 2555
      • ▸Life in Pai
      • ▸Thailand
    • Laos
      • ▸Luang Prabang – The City of ultimate Zen
    • Poland
      • ▸Why I love Poland
    • Estonia, Latvia & Lithuania
      • ▸Neighbors, but not relatives
      • ▸Patarei – A little slice of Hell
    • Findland
      • ▸A sunny day in Helsinki
    • Denmark
      • ▸Copenhagen
  • SINGLES
  • CONTACT
  • MY BOOKS
  • MY VIDEOS
  • Terms and Conditions
  • Cookie Policy (EU)
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Havana: Between magic and decay

 

In recent years, Havana has become famous all over the world for the morbid charm of its flaking facades – a curious blend of magic and decay. 55 years of totalitarian dictatorship have left the city of Havana suspended in a peculiar state halfway between preservation and destruction. The beauty of this city lies in the poetry of its ruins. But, these ruins are far less poetic, for the people who inhabit them.

After the 1959 Revolution the rural and urban poor were rehoused in the buildings vacated by the one million Cubans who chose exile to being part of a socialist experiment. In the capital the poor have largely stayed in the more densely populated Old and Central Havana. No one in Cuba has actual ownership of buildings so that there’s been no vested interest in repairing them.

The city is like a great set of variations on the theme of urban decay. The stucco has given way to mold; roofs have gone, replaced by corrugated iron; shutters have crumbled into sawdust; staircases end in precipices; windows lack glass; doors are off their hinges; ancient electrical wiring emerges from walls; wrought ironwork balconies crumble into rust. Every grand and beautifully room has been subdivided by plywood partitions into smaller spaces, in which entire families now live.

It cannot be said, however, that the inhabitants of Havana appear notably unhappy – far from it. There is plenty of social life in the streets, much smiling and laughter, and it isn’t hard to find a small fiesta with music and dancing. When you look into the homes that the people have made among the ruins, there are the small, heartbreaking signs of pride and self-respect: the carefully tended plastic flowers and other cheap ornaments, for example.

These images present the ambivalent admixture of beauty and dereliction. Regime change will come and with it an intensification of the wave of renovation and urban renewal. This is a unique historical moment, which may be out of reach in just a few years.

 

 

 

 

Havana: Between magic and decay

 

In recent years, Havana has become famous all over the world for the morbid charm of its flaking facades – a curious blend of magic and decay. 55 years of totalitarian dictatorship have left the city of Havana suspended in a peculiar state halfway between preservation and destruction. The beauty of this city lies in the poetry of its ruins. But, these ruins are far less poetic, for the people who inhabit them.

After the 1959 Revolution the rural and urban poor were rehoused in the buildings vacated by the one million Cubans who chose exile to being part of a socialist experiment. In the capital the poor have largely stayed in the more densely populated Old and Central Havana. No one in Cuba has actual ownership of buildings so that there’s been no vested interest in repairing them.

The city is like a great set of variations on the theme of urban decay. The stucco has given way to mold; roofs have gone, replaced by corrugated iron; shutters have crumbled into sawdust; staircases end in precipices; windows lack glass; doors are off their hinges; ancient electrical wiring emerges from walls; wrought ironwork balconies crumble into rust. Every grand and beautifully room has been subdivided by plywood partitions into smaller spaces, in which entire families now live.

It cannot be said, however, that the inhabitants of Havana appear notably unhappy – far from it. There is plenty of social life in the streets, much smiling and laughter, and it isn’t hard to find a small fiesta with music and dancing. When you look into the homes that the people have made among the ruins, there are the small, heartbreaking signs of pride and self-respect: the carefully tended plastic flowers and other cheap ornaments, for example.

These images present the ambivalent admixture of beauty and dereliction. Regime change will come and with it an intensification of the wave of renovation and urban renewal. This is a unique historical moment, which may be out of reach in just a few years.

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