Like all big cities, like the most picturesque and cosmopolitan cities, Havana is a city with many faces.
It has, of course, the faces of its people, of the Havanans in their comings and goings, in their daily ups and downs. And it also has those of the visitors, of those who come from other parts of the island and the world to merge with the rhythms and colors of the city.
However, the Cuban capital also has many other views and perspectives: those focused on its streets, its buildings, its parks and other public places, its monuments and sculptures, the sea…
Havana, which for many is the city of columns, or of classic cars — the “almendrones” —, or of the busy Malecon, exhibits other protagonists and attributes when seen not from the ground, from the asphalt, but from the heights.
Havana then becomes the city of rooftops and antennas, of plastic water tanks — that dot the landscape with their blue color —, of the buildings and chimneys that rise in the distance, of the ships that arrive or leave the bay, of the flags flying overhead.
From one of its high points, it appears calmer, less polluted with noise and soot, closer to the clouds and the sky. It then reveals other views, other details unattainable from below, and also discovers, from another angle, its wounds and contrasts, its impoverishments and novelties.
Our photojournalist Otmaro Rodríguez arrived this week at one of those unique viewpoints, the terrace of the Iberostar Parque Central Hotel, and from there he captured different views of the city with his lens.
That is the Havana we show you today: the one that can be seen without makeup from one of its most central locations and also the one that throbs and reveals itself from the heights, more than five centuries after its birth.