A City of Havana that once existed.

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It is 1959. The new man is about to be born.

That year, Fidel Castro changed Cuba once and for all! Overnight, Cubans became Che Guevara's new man, a sick human anomaly that sacrifices brothers and sisters if they are not revolutionary enough, let alone friends and colleagues! The new man simply does annihilate men, women, and whatever is dear to them.

My generation endured and still does endure today the most sadistic obliteration and deprivation of anything precious to us. For one, we saw how the new man suppressed our rights and preyed on cities and places we treasure as ours! Havana, for one, wouldn't be exempt. Fidel Castro and his new man brought it down to its knees.

Once a place Cubans and visitors alike praised, the city today is no more than a giant pile of debris.

Unquestionably, Cuba was no paradise as many falsely claim. The sun did shine some, though.

I certainly did not see the city of Havana before 1959. There are pictures, though! Hence, a curious time traveler could sure enough cruise back to an era when things were, say, not as sad and depressing. For it is, certainly, comforting to think of streets and places we are so familiar with and hope we, as a nation, are still able and willing to reclaim whatever is left.

Yet, however dreadful the days of the revolution, we should not cherish the past to hate the present. We should rather focus on the future; we should envision a time when we all enjoy memories, treasure times long gone, learn, share with future generations, and make absolutely sure a revolution does not happen again.

Bitterness aside, I wish I'd seen Havana 50 or 100 years ago and I wish I could fit all that history into such a little space like this! Fortunately, a picture is worth a thousand words, isn't it? And, pictures certainly abound!

Havana once looked like this.

Arguably, our lives are trapped in Old Havana! Unfortunately, this part of the city barely stands on its own today. Father time has done its work unchallenged and the aftermaths of the lack of care and love are awfully imposing. Yet, before many us were even born, it was a strident showcase of color, glamor, and social vibe.

Once upon a time, Zulueta street (left) hardly slowed down and it doesn't slow down even today! Visitors and residents who happen to wander around Old Havana often find themselves stranded right here unknowingly. It feels like every avenue, alleyway, and side street ends on this corner! Prado, Neptuno, San José, and San Rafael, just across the street, off Parque Central!

Who, on his or her way home, hasn't walked across the adjoining Parque Central, a unique place that magnificently blends nature with countless stories silently told by statues and monuments that humbly share the park?

Construction itself did come to an end in 1877 after the demolition of the Murallas de La Habana was completed. Some of the trees planted here are now over a hundred years old.

With that said, there's history to be told about and around the park. For one, the first statue ever built to honor Jose Marti was set in place right here back in 1905. It was designed by sculptor Jose Villalta de Saavedra after an 1899 poll conducted by El Figaro, an illustrated magazine published between the end of the XIX Century and the early years of the XX Century.

Parque Central is not alone. It graciously commissions a quota of the glory to some remarkable neighbors.

Paseo del Prado, the first ever paved alley in the city, designed by French architectJean-Claude Nicolas Forestier in 1772, runs alongside the park all the way down to the Malecon. On its way, it detaches Old Havana from the rest of the city. Tall-standing lions, trees, and marble benches cover the boulevard from one end to the other, while private houses, hotels, theaters, cinemas, and stores reminiscent of Vienna, Madrid, and Paris edge the sidewalks.

During the 1950's and after decades of shine and splendor, many of the rich residents of the area begun moving to Miramar. Soon after, the Revolution happened and not much was done ever since to maintain the area; many buildings collapsed swallowing with them a piece of history.

Deep into the heart of Old Havana there is Obispo Boulevard.

Not too far from the park, Obispo reminds the visitor of a giant flea market. Countless stores and street merchants are open for business year round. Even today, the boulevard is one of the busiest areas in the city. Thrift stores and banks once lined up the boulevard. Yet, informal commercial stands were also a common feature.

The boulevard dies at Plaza de Armas, a colonial venue packed nowadays with street vendors. The plaza accommodates several colonial buildings miraculously still standing.

Sadly, Habana Vieja was completely ignored and neglected for years until renovation projects were undertaken in the early 2000's. Today, it certainly looks in better shape, but how much history has been lost on the way is anyone's guess.

Centro Habana

West of the old city, Centro Habana, a neighborhood I am pretty familiar with, has not fared any better. Buildings are barely in one piece and digging into the past makes me fear not much will be left in a few years from now.

For one, the busy corner of Infanta and San Lazaro looks decrepit and unattractive today, but in years past, it irradiated life and energy.

San Lazaro runs all the way down from Unversidad de La Habana deep into the city. Over the years, the street has witnessed countless student demonstrations and, before Castro, was often battered by political turmoil.

Infanta itself was once a gorgeous showcase of specialty stores, bakeries, movie theaters, and restaurants. Today, very little is left, though. I heard the movie theater of the same name was rebuilt sometime ago and remains the only one afloat!

El Vedado

As an appendix to Infanta, Calle 23 turns West and heads into El Vedado, considered by many the heart of the city. Originally, the now residential area was nothing but a dense wall of caoba and acana trees to protect the city against pirate attacks. Hence, building in the area was strictly prohibited by the colonial government.

Due to the governor's ordinance, this area was dubbed El Vedado, the reserve or forbidden zone. Somehow the name stubbornly beat father time and even survived the chaos of name-changing mania of the revolutionary era.

Today, the area is a pale image of what it once was. There is nothing left of the legendary glamor that attracted the whole world to the city, let alone caoba and acana.

I grew up a few blocks from the intersection of 23rd and 12th streets one block from the main entrance to the world-famous Cementerio de Colon. The once busy street corner barely resembles today what it once was, although it is still one of the busiest in town.

it is worth noting, though, that the area has its own dark secrets. Batista's son, Papo, who had a knack for young males, used to send soldiers to pick the boys up right here.

In short, the city has changed and images and stories abound to prove it. Some people dream of better times long gone, but the past is not an alternative anymore. It is the future what matters now. That's why I rather think of long gone times as a motivation to build a better future not as a means to hate the present.

w.dominguez