Even though the buildings may be dilapidated to the point of near-collapse, some folks in Havana, Cuba, still choose to live in them.
The buildings are dilapidated almost to the point of collapse, in fact, about three of them crash to the ground each day.
Yet people, entire families even, live inside, ignoring the crumbling danger around them—or at least taking the risk that it won’t fall down on them.
“There are buildings that are basically demolition by neglect,” says Dana Moody, director of the Interior Design Graduate Program. “They’re falling apart, but people are living in them. Things that we would condemn in a heartbeat. The bottom floor might be in crumbles, but they can’t get the people out and that’s because there’s nowhere else to put them.”
Such is life in Havana, Cuba.
Moody recently returned from a four-week stay in Havana as part of a residency program offered by UnPack Studio, which brings artists from visual, literary, music and dance, among others, to work with Cuban artists, find inspiration in the country or do research on various forms of art unique to Cuban culture. Moody was documenting the architecture of Cuba through photographs—about 3,000 of them, she says.
But along with the architecture, she came face-to-face with the reality of Cuba.
“My first day in the city I was extremely overwhelmed by it, thousands and thousands of buildings that are in full decay,” she recalls. “If a building collapses, they either prop it up and go live in it or they go rob it of all its materials, so they can fix what’s wrong in their own house.
About 90 percent of the buildings she saw were decaying, she says, and about 50 percent of those were “in dangerous instability,” yet about one-quarter of those have people living in them.
The U.S. Trade Embargo on Cuba has caused problems in restoring the buildings. First imposed on arms sales in 1958, then expanded to include almost all imports to Cuba in 1962. Travel restrictions were eased by President Barack Obama, but the financial sanctions still stand. Because of that, supplies of all kinds are scarce in the country, Moody says, and that includes building supplies.
“They’re dealing with a lack of materials, a lack of resources, and they are extremely creative in finding new techniques and new methods,” she says. “Things we think of as simple, like stringing up a chandelier, they don’t have the wire. It’s the minute things that we can go to a hardware store and get.”
As an example, she pointed to the limestone dome of the Cuban capitol building is being restored. But limestone is almost impossible to find in Cuba, “so they’re taking the original pieces out, they’re crushing them down to powder then they’re making a cement mixture and they’re casting it to make it look like the original.”
Still, with a lack of supplies a near-daily problem, none of the renovation work is “in a hurry,” she says.
“I was looking at a building that was being worked on and the first day I got there are all these workmen,” she recalls. “Then, all of a sudden, there’s no one there. The reason is they ran out of supplies and it may be two or three months before they get a new set of supplies. That’s just the way it is everywhere, so they don’t know any different.”
During her visit, she also was taken by the generosity and friendliness of the Cuban people. Yes, they realize they’re living in desperate straits—“The average person in Cuba makes about $20 a month,” Moody says—but they hold tightly to their heritage.
“Even though what they have is not good, they’re still proud of it,” she says. “They may not agree with everything the government is doing, but they are proud to be Cuban.”
When she was out on the streets, photographing buildings and doing her research, she often ran into Cubans either living in the buildings or restoring them, she says. If she asked to go inside the building or to discuss its condition, she was greeted with warmth and cooperation, she says.
“When you meet them, they’re so friendly,” she says. “No one turned me away. Everyone was totally open.”
