In the northeast of Cuba, far from the tourist rush and neon glare, lies a province where the soul of the island hums softly beneath the trees. Holguín — known as La Ciudad de los Parques — is a place where life unfolds gently in shaded plazas, where voices are kind, and where the Earth is not something to conquer, but something to walk with.
Here, green is not just a color. It is a way of being.
A Province Painted in Quiet Harmony
Holguín is Cuba’s third-largest province and one of its most ecologically diverse. Between the Nipe-Sagua-Baracoa mountains, the fertile plains, and the stunning Guardalavaca coast, Holguín whispers a promise: “Here, you may breathe.”
In the capital city — also called Holguín — parks are sacred spaces, not afterthoughts. There are over five major plazas in the urban core, each with its own rhythm: Plaza San José with its book fairs, Parque Calixto García with historic charm, Parque Las Flores bursting with color. Life in Holguín flows around these spaces like a calm current — slow, thoughtful, and connected.
This isn’t slowness as stagnation. It is slowness as awareness. A mindful pulse.
🌿 Innovation Idea: “Bosques de Barrio” — Neighborhood Micro-Forests for Community Calm
Holguín already understands the beauty of green public space. What if we deepened that gift? Picture an initiative called “Bosques de Barrio” — small, dense, native-plant micro-forests grown on underused land in each neighborhood.
These pocket forests would:
- Be planted by local schoolchildren, elders, and artists together — passing knowledge across generations.
- Include birdhouses, edible shrubs, benches, and recycled art made from community materials.
- Provide shade, oxygen, pollinator support, and emotional refuge in urban or rural areas.
- Host weekly “Green Moments” — unplugged afternoons where no devices are allowed, and people just be.
The forests wouldn’t just restore ecology. They would restore attention, affection, and awe.
Start with one park. Watch the kindness grow.
The Kindness of the Earth and Its People
Holguín is more than its landscapes. It is also a cultural cradle. From the birthplace of Fidel Castro in Birán to the birthplace of Celia Sánchez in Media Luna — this province has shaped leaders of conviction, yet it remains deeply humble.
In the countryside, families still harvest by hand. Beans, bananas, cassava, coffee. It is not easy work, but it is work done with respect for the land. The people of Holguín — whether Afro-Cuban, campesino, or indigenous-descended — carry a calm dignity. They don’t speak of resilience. They live it.
And their warmth doesn’t shout. It simply welcomes you, like a door left open.
Music that Moves Like Water
In the evenings, music seeps from open windows. The trova and son cubano traditions run deep here. And there’s a quiet pride in nurturing talent: Holguín hosts Romerías de Mayo, one of Cuba’s most vibrant festivals of young art and thought — blending poetry, painting, and peace.
There is joy here, but not the commercial kind. It’s the joy of belonging. Of watching your mango tree grow. Of knowing the name of the rain.
Let the Parks Teach Us Again
Holguín doesn’t need skyscrapers. Its wisdom lies in its earth, its plazas, its people who know that true wealth is not stored, but shared. A park bench. A ripe guava. A story passed to a child.
There is no rush. Only rhythm. And maybe, that is the better dream.
Seeds to Take Home
Let Holguín remind us that we can:
- Design spaces for slow joy, not fast consumption.
- Turn sidewalks into sanctuaries.
- Let nature be our teacher, not our trophy.
- Build community not by scale, but by sincerity.
Let each town have its own “Bosques de Barrio.” Let each city plan for parks before parking lots. Let music be played without price. Let happiness bloom like hibiscus — humble, open, full of color.
In Holguín, the future is not some glittering tower. It is a little tree, planted by many hands, in the middle of a public square.
And that is enough.
Let us live more like Holguín — rooted in care, rising with kindness.
