 |  |
|---|
This is Havana’s Chinese Cemetery, a place I had always viewed from behind its front wall—until a few days ago. It’s not a tall wall, so those on the outside can easily peer in… and those on the inside… well, I’m not quite sure.
A flower upon the grave withers, a tear upon its memory evaporates, a prayer for the soul is received by God...
(A quote by Saint Augustine that caught my attention to find here, in clear allusion to the transience of the material in contrast to the permanence of the spiritual)
When you enter through the portico of the Chinese cemetery, to the right is the caretaker’s room. There was one there who, as soon as he saw me, came out to ask what I wanted. I told him I only wanted to take some photos, and he said it wasn’t allowed, but that I could come in anyway... he shrugged, turned around, and left me alone. That’s when I began to lose myself in thought.
I'm trying to recall exactly what I was thinking... but that man's gaze wipes my memory clean.
Maybe I wasn’t thinking anything important at all—really, I was just trying to capture the vibe of a place abandoned and visibly left to its fate... and I can’t explain why, considering its historical, cultural, and heritage value.
It appears to have begun operating in October 1893, within the grounds of the La Torre estate, owned by Federico Kohly—which is why that area is called Reparto Kohly; however, this residential area, with its winding streets, steep slopes, and gardens graced by vibrant flamboyant trees, did not begin to develop as an urban zone until the first quarter of the 20th century.
In the Chinese cemetery, only Chinese nationals, their spouses, and their descendants up to the second generation have burial rights. I suppose some still come here during the traditional lunar calendar festivals and the Christian celebrations for the faithful departed, to burn incense, sandalwood, fake money, and to offer food to their loved ones who crossed through the doorway of 'the dream that is life.
I thought of Virginia Woolf and Calderón de la Barca while I was writing that phrase. 😀
Life is a dream. ‘Tis waking that kills us. ― Virginia Woolf, Orlando
¿Qué es la vida? Una ilusión, una sombra, una ficción, y el mayor bien es pequeño: que toda la vida es sueño, y los sueños, sueños son. ― Pedro Calderón de la Barca, La vida es sueño
The place is notably austere, marked by its “Chinese little walls”—a type of earthen burial structure characteristic of many Asian cemeteries. Yet one can discern hybrid visual elements, such as those Corinthian columns. The cultural blending is evident in the architecture, but that quote from Saint Augustine I mentioned earlier also serves as a trace of the mingling of beliefs shared by Chinese immigrants and their descendants.
Of course, one finds the ever-present inscriptions in stylized calligraphy, along with motifs such as guardian lions and cranes…
A splash of color... or perhaps someone thirsty who forgot to pick up their plastic glass. Perhaps someone didn’t know that the color red could turn them into a ghost, and now they remain, wandering... among the whiteness of the tombs. Yes, I have a fertile imagination. And this place is full of vegetation, trees lining both sides of the narrow main path, wild flora reclaiming every inch of earth... even emerging from within the vaults and chapels.
And this one… small, made of metal, caught my attention and, at the same time, gave me a bit of a fright, you know? Who could have left it there, seemingly forgotten for so long? Two glasses and a timeline that seems to fade between the present and a distant past—one that might have ensnared me without my noticing.
I'm not really one to walk alone through cemeteries. This one is small, spanning an area of 8,198.8 square metres, divided into four irregular sections. I look it up on EcuRed, and it says it was formed by the intersection of two axes in the shape of a cross, representing the sky, the earth, the world of the living, and the world of the dead.
A civil structure of great historical value, declared a National Monument on May 8, 1996… I knew that, but it pains me to remember. It seems ironic that EcuRed holds these words: ‘unique in its kind in Cuba’ (I understand—it is unique), but… ‘an inexhaustible source of documentation for studies on Asian immigration to the Island’? I’m not sure. Its deterioration tells me something else…
This is the first structure you see on the left as you enter through the portico, directly across from the caretaker’s room. It seems to be the classification area… you know, for what gets classified here.
Much can be said about the silence of our cemeteries anywhere in the world, but I choose to hold on to every message of love these places also contain. And on this occasion, I quote the wise words attributed to Lao-Tzu: 'Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage.'
May love fill with courage the hearts of those who make decisions in this city, so that these traces are not erased forever.
