The Complicities of the Malecón

This place, in Havana, has permanent marks through history about life stories that give it a piece of yourself as if you wanted to amend your crevices with thoughts

By: Ana Margarita Sánchez Soler asanchez@enet.cu

There is a place in our capital that exists in order to leave permanent marks in innumerable life stories.  I refer to a site that resembles many people because of the similarity of the emotions that they profess: Malecón, Havana (seawall of Havana, Cuba)

On any given night, those who come to it seem to be accomplices of the same workship of the sea.  From its impressive immensity, it offers waves and salt to adorn the pleasures of a hug or the first kiss of love of those who are sitting there.

This piece of coastline keeps the most intimate secrets of those who reveal as the best friend.  We don’t need words if we want to say who we are.  A simple glance is enough for its majestic waters to understand the joys or depression that we have.  We prefer it to be that wise; specially, those of us who come to the large seawall, confident of finding the inspiration to write a text.  Others find in their margins the musical note that never reached a throat.

The works to build the Malecón (seawall) in Havana began in 1901 and gradually expanded until 1952.  This makes it a profound observer of history.  It was the scenario of  dissimilar cultural, political and social events.  To all the people who were born in this island belongs to us, but we Havana citizens have a special sense of belonging with this seawall.

This cosntruction is around seven thousand meters  and it is recognized as one of the largest in the world.  It is frequently compared, by its distance, with those in Mexico and Guayaquil, Ecuador.  It comprehend four municipalities: Habana Vieja, Centro Habana, Revolution Square and Playa.  Observing the seawall reminds us immediately that we are from the Caribbean because of the bluish tones that distinguish it.

The time leaves its signs in the seawall.  Those of us who offer it something of our lives give it a piece of ourselves as if we want to amend their slits with thoughts.  It is magical that sense of feeling the rugged texture of the seawall and the smell of wet breeze that accompanies it.  In it overflow infinite enigmas for those who want to unravel.

Translated by ESTI