Dreams of a Home in the Barrio Obrero: A Cuban's Nostalgic Walk Through a Changing Neighborhood

"For many years, this neighborhood was one of the most sought-after places to live in Havana," reflects user @reiniercruz08 as he embarks on a journey through the Barrio Obrero in San Miguel del Padrón. His TikTok video combines personal memories with a critical look at how the neighborhood has evolved from the one he knew during his childhood.

He shares, "My mother and I always dreamt of owning a house here—big, with a porch and a garden. But we never could, as homes here were always too expensive." As he strolls the streets, he recalls, "This neighborhood was built in the 1950s under President Ramón Grau Sanmartín's public works plan." He points out key locations: "Here's the September 12th secondary school where I studied. I have many bad memories from there because I was bullied a lot—it was my worst school experience."

He also notes, "There's a daycare, though I can't remember its name, and a nursing home. The neighborhood was designed to cater to the working class, hence the name 'Barrio Obrero'." During his walk, he mentions two parks, including the well-known "horseshoe park," located right across from the Vía Blanca.

Speaking about a unique house, he comments, "You can't miss mentioning the famous 'Balloon House' here. According to the internet, it was built by an American trying to sell the model, but it never took off."

Reflecting on the current state of the area, he muses, "With Cuba's current crisis, maybe prices have dropped, and the neighborhood certainly isn't what it used to be."

Echoes from the Past

The video sparked a flood of reactions from people connected to the Barrio Obrero. "The daycare was called El Lucero," someone commented. Another clarified, "The daycare is Lucerito, and the nursing home is Bernarda Toro."

"I also studied at September 12th, and it wasn't pleasant for me either," a user shared, to which the creator replied, "Same here." Another added, "I lived on E Street, between Passage A and B, before reaching the Balloon House. My mother-in-law lived there until she passed, right next to Óscarito."

"My mom and grandmother lived in the Barrio Obrero for a few years before moving to Old Havana. My cousin lived there for 20 years before they moved to the U.S.," another person wrote. "I was born and raised there," a woman noted. Another stated, "That was my neighborhood. I was born there." "My neighborhood where I grew up. I'm Jojote from Barrio Obrero," wrote someone whose mother still lives "across from the daycare."

One user expressed nostalgia and surprise: "Hi, I was born and lived there. I moved to Miami in '92 and didn't leave it so destroyed. I never returned and probably never will. My God, it's so ruined." Another added, "I didn't live there, but I did study at September 12th."

People also reminisced about well-known figures from the neighborhood: "Dr. Débora is a relative of mine, and she bought a house on San Germán Street years ago." Another person mentioned, "Dr. Alina was our family doctor for many years at the medical post."

"Every Sunday, I'd walk down the passage to catch the bus to my IPUEC Primer Partido. Yes, owning a home there, or in Monterrey or California, was everyone's dream," another internet user wrote.

One of the most poignant comments was, "That was my family's place, where I spent my early years. My father Lázaro Dávila, my uncle Coco, my grandparents Emilio and Bony. Thank you, Tayme, you've made me cry."

Others simply stated, "I studied there," "That's my neighborhood," "I also always wanted to live in Barrio Obrero and couldn't."

The same user has documented other areas of Havana in various videos. In one, he shows an unresolved water leak on Gabriel Street from his childhood, commenting, "When a water pipe breaks in Cuba, you know how long it can take to get fixed. Some never do." In another video, he took a Saturday night walk down Obispo Street, finding it deserted: "It's a ghost street."

Such publications align with other citizen testimonies highlighting the transformation of iconic spaces like the Suárez Gayol stadium in Mariel, the degradation of natural areas in Baracoa, the ruin of the former EIDE in Santa Clara, or the neglect of the El Dorado recreational center in Boca Ciega.

They have also documented the current state of La Esquina de Tejas, the ruins of the Emperador Hotel in Cayo Coco, and other urban areas once significant to entire generations.

The Collective Memory

@reiniercruz08's video of the Barrio Obrero joins a collective narrative where personal memories intersect with the physical decay of spaces and the emotional attachment or resignation that many still hold.