By Irina Pino
HAVANA TIMES – The Riomar building, located at the intersection of 1st and A streets in Miramar, Havana, is one of the most fascinating structures of the neighborhood where I live. Its front faces the side wall of my apartment, which is in the interior.
I’ve spoken about this landmark – whose glamor dates from the fifties – on several occasions. Years ago, I even interviewed one of the tenants in “From Rags to Riches: Havana’s Riomar Building,” She told me that each apartment was designed according to the owner’s taste.
Further, the different buildings had mailboxes for correspondence; a blackboard with intercoms for internal communications; a sitting room; party rooms; two swimming pools – today filthy and empty – complete with diving boards and shade umbrellas; plus showers, bathrooms, beverage vendors, garbage chutes and incinerators in the basement. There were even housekeepers who cleaned these areas. In short, there were so many comforts that it’s like some remnant of a classic film.
The architecture of this mass was constructed in five blocks and has 201 apartments, although most of them are abandoned and in bad shape. The balconies and the windows have lost part of their original structure – referring to the molding, glass, and bannisters. There are no doors left either. Nonetheless, the bathtubs are still there, since they were built in. Of course, the electric wires don’t work anymore, so that at night the apartments are just black holes, quite terrifying.
Despite the poor condition of the abandoned complex, some new neighbors have appeared in one of the first-floor apartments, which exactly faces my back balcony.
I believe the closest term would be “occupants” since they’re illegal, but given the lack of housing in this country, it’s not at all strange that people should recur to such extreme measures.
The family, or group of friends (because none of them resemble each other), is made up of four men, some younger and others who are over forty. When I get up, always before 8 am, I never see them on the balcony. Apparently, they’re not early risers, since they only begin reappearing in the later hours of the morning.
One of them, the youngest, spends his time looking at his cellphone which the others talk, some standing up and others sitting. From here, I can make out two chairs, a little table with a pot, cups, and other objects. Meanwhile, glass bottles and other household items have been laid out on the floor.
The youngest go around shirtless and in shorts, while the oldest is always fully dressed and wears a cap.
One strange thing is that they frequently have clothes hung out to dry. I imagine some water pipe is functioning and maybe they’re put in a water faucet, unless they’re washing their clothes in the ocean.
They occasionally haul things up with a bag on a rope, in order not to have to carry them up the stairs.
Another neighbor lives downstairs in the garage; that man came before the others and dedicates his energy to picking up recyclables along the coast. I’ve often seen him gathering cans and plastic bottles that he later transports to sell in his cart.
The garage no longer has iron doors, nor the grille that protected it, so that anyone can come in and use it as a public bathroom.
A while ago, a fire broke out inside, and the firetrucks had to come to contain the blaze. The man had to get out quickly, because of the smoke. They say the cause was some cardboard that caught on fire.
I confess I feel like a character from Alfred Hitchcock’s movie “Rear Window”, except that he spent all his time observing his neighbors, while I only do so when I have to go out on the balcony to do something. But curiosity calls to me…
If I had my way, I’d give these apartments to the people who need them most, hoping they try to restore them, because with every day that passes, they become less habitable.
Read more diary posts from Irina Pino here.
