Living in Las Tunas has something of a walker. The saying has always circulated that this is a transit city; that prudential stopovers are made here, for resupply. It is said that this is not destiny, but part of the path. I wouldn't dare deny it; too many close friends tell me the same thing: I follow, which usually means road, ship, or plane.
But as part of the celebration of its anniversary, many things come to the fore, memory is made room for. Beyond the founding dates and their precision, the truth is that the day someone laid the first stone to build on this land, he did not think that several centuries later Las Tunas would become the city that without great eloquence, manages to dazzle some and be a destination of admiration for others.
We have glory in every historical detail, and reckoning with the books of memory. Our city was burned more times than Bayamo, the first hotbed of the independence revolution for the war of 1868. There are forts converted into houses, more legends than in other places in this country. Many rumors put mystery in walking the streets because they say that the underground tunnels that connected the Spanish barracks with the Church still exist. Or, perhaps, on certain days you can see through the fog, Calixto Garcia's battery besieging the town.
Glorifying the city consists of having memories at hand, and reviving them realistically and truthfully. Imagine that when Vicente García attacked the town at the beginning of the war, the Hórmigo riverbank was the starting point, or that the bell tower still tolls every hour to alert the inhabitants of the relentless passage of time.
People in Las Tunas cling to the harsh present instead of generating a sense of belonging; we lose the essence of our rich past. The buildings that are silent today are the reflection of an unprecedented glory; stories of an aviator who used to do somersaults in the sky with his private plane, the enormous cistern that still exists under the headquarters of the Hermanos Saíz Association, or the enigmatic acronym MB in the balcony of the Radio Victoria station.
Perhaps, celebrating Las Tunas this September 30 is looking at the city with different eyes; eyes that also help us glimpse the future. Our land cannot be the city of pilgrims forever; we have to look at the sky and start building upwards. The intention is not to touch the clouds; it is to generate a view, a perspective of the landscape to fall in love with it.
