The house on Villegas Street, in the heart of Old Havana, looks nothing like the stately two-story home it used to be a century ago, with its high ceilings, wrought iron railings, semicircular arches and stairs covered in white marble. Its former elegance is such that local lore says it used to belong to a marquise.
Today, everything inside the six-family unit is chaos.
The roots of a tree protrude through the wall of a makeshift toilet where birds have made their nests. The roofs of the first and second floors are propped up. There is rubble and fresh sand
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