One of the great euphemisms of Havana is, in turn, one of its most popular and beloved places. The little beach of 16 is literally the opposite of a beach. It is not the shore of the sea. Neither is a landscape with palm trees, stretches of white sand and turquoise blue waters where colorful fish stroll. Quite the contrary. There are a little more than a hundred meters of coast covered with dog tooth where you have to bathe with shoes because, in addition, there are black sea urchins everywhere.
However, by popular demand, this place is a beach with all the letters. More like a little beach. And that diminutive, which grammatically refers to something small, by dint of affection translates into something endearing.
This point of our geography is located in the neighborhood of Miramar, on 1st Street between 14 and 16. At the sight of any outsider who does not know its history of popular identity, the feeling can be that of a disorganized place. It is not for less. A concrete frame without a door, where there was once a sign that said “Playita 16”, is the road that leads to the sea through cement corridors laid out on the reefs. There are long benches also made of concrete and a few umbrellas to shelter from the sun. A dilapidated booth means that there was once a gastronomic stall. The site has nothing to do with the portentous neighboring spas, with lounges, restaurants, dance floors and swimming pools towards the sea. But these constructions, erected more than half a century ago and converted into social circles with the triumph of the Revolution, have never been more beloved than the little beach on 16.
People have always accepted this revered little piece of the coast, hidden behind lavish houses and buildings (some destroyed by the ravages of time, lack of materials and saltpeter), with its natural precariousness. Perhaps for this reason it was a great home without walls, doors or windows, always open like the immense sea of which it is a part, where lovers came to embrace kisses, caresses and tenderness. That oasis in the middle of the big city where you can elope with friends to celebrate life, despite the fucking reality, with a bottle of cheap rum. That passing place to take a dip in the heat and resume the arduous activity. That haven to be alone for a while, accompanied by your own thoughts and ghosts; to look at infinity, on the horizon, with the soundtrack of the waves crashing against the reefs.
The writer from Havana, Dazra Novak, tells about teenage escapades on her blog Havana inside:
“The danger was never noticed when the somewhat aggressive waves broke in the inhospitable dog’s tooth plagued by sea urchins and molluscs, because when you are an adolescent you don’t take these kinds of things into account, because when you stop being an adolescent you already you almost never go to the little beach at 16, except for some early mornings when alcohol shakes you in such a way that even your memories fall out of your pockets, and you decide not only to get there but, in a fit of renewed energies, one rings the bell to prove that we still have a little life left inside.
The memories that this place can treasure are dissimilar. A friend, to whom I told him that I would write about the little beach at 16, told me that in the eighties he used to meet at night in this place with other friends. “We sat near the sea, around an old Radio VEF 206 to tune in to Key West stations that played rock and roll.”
Another, who now lives in Miami, expressed his wish that when he died his ashes be scattered on one of the cement benches on the 16th beach. special period”, he confessed with satisfaction.
There is even a Facebook group called “Amigos de la playa de 16”. It is a community made up of hundreds of compatriots scattered throughout various parts of the world. In that virtual space they dump their nostalgia. They post photos and videos. They recall passages of their lives that took place there and there are even those who ask those who still live in Havana if the sea is calm or choppy.
The 16th beach will not have the paradisiacal charms of resorts like Varadero, but it has its own. It is a popular paradise in its own right. This has been decided spontaneously and naturally by several generations of Cuban men and women who keep some of their most memorable moments there.
