The First Time I Saw My City Without Color | Martí Park and Boulevard of Ciego de Ávila (Cuba) [EN]

Today I didn’t go out looking for photos…

I went out looking for something I didn’t know I was missing.

I’ve always seen my city the way everyone else does: noise, people, routine…

But today was different.

Today I decided to bring my camera… and strip the color from everything.

📸 A simple experiment… that changed everything.

It wasn't a planned walk.

There was no route, no objective.

Just me… walking… observing…

And a black-and-white camera.

📷

A Little History

In the heart of Ciego de Ávila where once there was nothing but wilderness, livestock, and passing trails a silent story began to take shape.

The year was 1840, and what for centuries had been a scattered landscape of cattle ranches and corrals began to take form. It was not an explosive birth, but a humble one: a mere 263 people, a few houses, and an orderly layout that seemed more like a dream than a city.

They named it San Eugenio de la Palma.

But what truly defined its origin was neither its name nor the number of its inhabitants... but rather its purpose. It was a strategic point a place that connected roads, travelers, and stories. Little by little, amidst the dust, commerce, and hope, that small settlement began to pulse with a life of its own.

Wagons passed through, people arrived... and without realizing it, they were building something greater than a town.

They were founding a city.

One that, with the passage of time, would cease to be merely a dot on the map to become an identity, a home... a living history.

That was when I understood.

Color distracts.

It shows you the obvious… but hides what is important.

📷

When the Spaniards arrived centuries ago, they brought not only their language and customs. They brought a way of seeing the world and of building it. Little by little, amidst intense sun and tropical rains, they began to erect houses that did not merely offer shelter, but spoke.

Long porticoes emerged, designed for shade and conversation. Inner courtyards appeared, where the heat became more bearable. High windows, soaring ceilings everything served a purpose, yet also possessed a soul.

It was not merely architecture.

In black and white, my city felt different.

Grittier. More real.

As if, for the first time, I were seeing what had always been there…

but I had never looked at.

📷

Time… does not always pass in silence.

Little by little, what was once vibrant color began to fade. The paint cracked, the roofs began to sag, and the details that were once symbols of elegance became trapped in oblivion. Where laughter once rang out, only echoes remained.

It did not happen overnight. It was a slow decay… almost imperceptible.

Generations changed and priorities along with them and the city began to bear the weight of the years without the same care it had known before. Like an aging giant, it still stood tall… but it no longer shone quite the same way.

What I discovered today

It wasn't the city that changed.

It was me.

Sometimes we need to change the way we look… to realize what is right in front of us.

📷

In the heart of Ciego de Ávila stand three giants figures that are not merely seen, but felt.

The Cathedral of San Eugenio de la Palma rises first, serene, as if time itself had never passed it by. Its walls hold ancient silences, whispered promises, and the memories of entire generations who have sought refuge beneath its roof. It is not merely a temple... it is living memory.

A few streets away, the Edificio 12 Plantas the Twelve-Story Building breaks the horizon. Modern, defiant, distinct. It stands as a reminder that this city, too, once dreamed of touching the sky. From its heights, everything below seems small... save for the history it upholds.

And then, the invisible curtain of the Teatro Principal of Ciego de Ávila rises. Inside, the walls have borne witness to applause, laughter, and tears to entire lives transformed into art, if only for a few hours. It is the place where the city gazes upon itself and tells the story of who it is.

Three spaces. Three eras. Three ways of being.

Faith, height, and expression.

And amidst them lies a city that, even as it changes, continues to find ways never to forget who it is.

This was just the first attempt.

The first time I’ve gone out to explore my surroundings in this way.

And I feel like I’m just beginning to see.

🚀 This is just the beginning.

If these photos are well-received by the community…

I will continue documenting my city from this perspective.

No filters.

No color.

Just reality.

Sometimes you don't need to go far... you just need to learn to look differently.

Would you like to see more of this black-and-white series?

Equipment used: Canon EOS 600D, ISO 400, Lens: 17mm-85mm