Havana's urban farms

[Jimmy2]

Havana's private gardens are a model of sustainable living and a glimpse into the realities of Cuban life

An old Soviet bus splutters exhaust fumes over a gleaming blue American Chevrolet and a car stereo shakes the Havana street, but a more bucolic scene appears behind some rusty metal panels. Enrique, a retired engineer, signals us into his backyard. A pair of turkeys fan out their tails. Hens squawk and cluck, flapping up onto the lower roofs of Enrique's simple, ramshackle house.

Visiting private gardens and meeting people like Enrique gives a rare glimpse into the realities of Cuban life and the continuing struggle to make ends meet. The gardens are also a model of sustainable living that city dwellers like me could learn from.

The state encourages Cubans to grow their own food. What happens to excess produce is down to whoever grows it – Enrique sells his to help keep his family of 15. He started producing food for his family in 1989 when Cuba's allies in eastern Europe abandoned communism and stopped sending food. On the 25m x 4m plot around his house Enrique keeps about 60 goats which give him five litres a of milk a day – plus meat. Enrique shrugs when I ask how many hens, guinea fowl and turkeys he owns.

The conditions are cramped but the animals look well. He feeds them by scouring the city for waste food. Sometimes, with the help of his two dogs who watch us from under one of the hen coops, he herds his goats through the city streets out into the countryside so they can feed on grass and other vegetation.

Opposite Enrique, "The Professor" welcomes us onto his plot. He started cultivating it a couple of months ago when the state gave him a 10m x 5m derelict building site for vegetable growing.

The Professor has slotted lettuces, chard, tomatoes, cabbage and some medicinal plants into the foundations. He plans to give away the surplus to a day centre for pregnant women and to neighbours.

Round the corner Rodolfo has just come home from his job selling books to tourists outside Havana's museums.

When the 1989 crisis hit Rodolfo used the strip of land beside his house to raise 10-15 pigs until his mother-in-law made him stop when she could no longer stand the smell. She was lucky, says our guide, some Cubans living in apartments were rearing pigs in their bath tubs.

Instead of pigs, Rodolfo, watched over by his rooftop dog, Pulgosa (fleabag), now grows mangoes, cassava, medicinal plants, lemons, avocados, bananas, onions, garlic, spices and plantain. He sows seeds in old saucepans, trunks and anything else he can lay his hands on. Today he is almost self sufficient in fruit and vegetables.

Gardens like Rodolfo's are disappearing in Havana. Many have become parking lots now that tourism is bolstering the economy so this is the time to see the relics of Cuba's "special period" as they call the post-cold-war crisis.

[Taino]

Situation is o desperate for so many no in cuba, that i doubt people have food enough to feed their animals. This article paints a portrait that looks nicer than reality...

[thechenman]

While the picture may be bleaker than the reality...I think it is refreshing to see the the Cuban people are taking things into their own hands. They are realizing that they can't depend on the government for even the basic necessities in life, and I think that will lead to progress sooner rather than later in terms of changing the government.