On November 16th, many, many years ago, someone decided that a city would be founded in this area. They planted a Ceiba tree, gathered together, probably got drunk, and thus the city began.
Wait a moment... That’s not what the books say. And do you think a book would say that? Well, here’s a more historically accurate post about that date. HERE
A few days ago, after running some errands, the heat was suffocating me, so my partner and I decided to sit in La Plaza de Armas. It’s one of the four squares that make up the historic center and my favorite park.
As a child, I used to come here to play with my sister. Nearby, there’s an amusement park, and after we got bored, our parents would bring us here to cool off, but my sister and I never stopped—kids, after all.
This square has always had something special for me.
On one side... there’s El Templete, with the Ceiba tree that marks the beginning of the city. In the same direction, we have one of the first luxury hotels in the city, as old as the Ceiba.
In another direction, there’s the Palacio del Segundo Cabo and Castillo de La Fuerza.
Not to mention that in other directions, you can see the first barbershop in the city and the Palacio de los Capitanes Generales: the governor's house during the colonial period and the pre-republican years.
Are you starting to see why I love this place?
Wherever you look, there are years and years of history.
But not only that.
Being one of the most touristy places in the city, Cubans showcase the island's folklore. You hear "Guantanamera," see women in traditional dresses, and they read your palm (or at least I think they do).
In other words, you travel through time without even moving from your seat.
All surrounded by a captivating shade of green.
This place is preserved and maintained like few places in the city.
Sitting with my partner and enjoying some snacks, we started to muse about many topics. In this place lies one of my earliest memories, and not because it was a good one.
Why? Because I had a terrifying scare.
My parents used to take us to an amusement park nearby (it’s not what it used to be). When we got tired or bored, we would come here to have lunch at a nearby restaurant.
Then we would play a bit in the square. We ran around without a care because it’s an enclosed area.
But that day, everything went out of control.
Being kids, my sister and I strayed from the script and wanted to invent our own fun.
Suddenly, while crossing some fences in the square, I tripped and fell to the ground. It wasn’t a big fall, but I suppose it didn’t take much.
From the moment I fell, once the adrenaline from the impact wore off, I felt a pain that prevented me from moving my arm.
My parents (who are not doctors) thought it was just the impact, but it felt like hell to me.
As a child, I was used to getting hurt, but this hurt so much that I couldn’t move my arm. It definitely wasn’t just the impact.
So they decided to take off my shirt to see what was going on... A bruise was spreading across the upper part of my chest and my back.
Little spoiler: I had broken my collarbone.
I will never forget the look of fear on my mom’s face and my dad’s worry (despite being a pilot, medical things scare him a lot). Without thinking, they took me to the hospital.
Which is on the other side of the city. My father drove like he was in Fast and Furious. Despite my pain, I enjoyed that ride.
I wasn’t aware of the extent of the injury, but I loved the speed. Kid things.
Upon arriving at the hospital, the entire emergency staff mobilized; the injury was not a simple one—I had broken my collarbone in three places.
This is something curious in medicine, especially concerning the collarbone.
Long story short... I spent two months in a cast, which was incredibly hot, and bathing was a hassle. So much so that when they took it off, my skin was a different color.
For two months, at a young age, my life changed. The time felt incredibly long. Imagine being a kid and not being able to do kid things.
A torment!!
From then on, I started to behave better and be a bit more careful, but only for a few months. Because the following year, I broke my wrist playing baseball, but that’s another story.
Back to La Plaza de Armas... it’s a place that holds many memories for me: both good and not so good. Beyond that, it’s a perfect place to enjoy a moment of peace amidst the chaos that is Old Havana, to appreciate the colonial architecture, and simply watch time pass by.
If you’re Cuban, I’m sure you can relate, and if you’re not, I can only invite you to experience the history and Cuban spirit that surround this place in person.
I’d love to know if there’s a similar place in your city? Let me know down below.
Read you soon!
[dahpilot]
All the images in this post are my own.
