Next Year in Havana

by Chanel Cleeton

“In the eighties, this neighborhood was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site,” Luis explains. “There’s a movement in place to preserve many of the buildings, but it hasn’t been easy. Most Cubans aren’t necessarily historians by nature.” It strikes me as surprising, considering exiled Cubans are intrinsic historians. They collect faded photographs, draw maps of Havana neighborhoods from memory, pass down family recipes and traditions as though they’re sacrosanct. So much of our history is oral, a by-product of Castro’s unwillingness to allow families to take anything but their memories with them when they left Cuba. “Why?” I pull out my notebook and pen from my bag, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips. “Practicality, I suppose. There’s a luxury in historiography most Cubans lack. They’re too occupied with surviving in the present to spend their time living in the past. Plus, there’s the added difficulty of how much the narrative of the past has been shaped for them and how difficult it is to get honest information out of the regime.