In Cangrejos, the arrival of modernity was unhurried. Used as a transit point, the old Carretera Central—my backbone—was overlaid with steel rails from the colonial city to Río Piedras. Though I lost my black name to the Count’s trolley, it was the electric streetcar, inaugurated in 1901, that consolidated Santurce’s identity. For half a century, the trolley witnessed my modern facade under construction. Gone are the tramways and the industrial euphoria, yet even today, seventy-odd years later, there are imaginary stops between us. Just ask for Stop 18 and you’ll see; though the nostalgia is gone, the urban geography remains.

    Imaginary Ways