I call it the Hialeah effect. In this little Cuba, street signs cry out with nostalgia and pride. Cuban Cultural Heritage Boulevard is West 44th Place, where faded pink plaques erected along a canal-side promenade honor Cuban greats in the arts, both living and gone. The king of Cuban salsa, Willy Chirino, is, of course, represented here. But so are the lesser known Otto Sirgo, an actor of the '40s and '50s, and Rosendo Rossell, a staple of early-exile television and radio.
Some people think the monuments are tacky.
In City Hall, the promenade has been dubbed ''el cementerio,'' the cemetery. But no one dares to criticize it out loud for fear of offending residents. Cubanness everywhere Unlike Miami where the cubania hangs on Calle Ocho like a postcard for tourists and where Anglo culture prevails in hubs like Brickell Avenue and Coconut Grove, in Hialeah the Cubanness is stamped on virtually every corner of the city's 22-square miles. It is thick like a wake-up shot of cafe cubano. And like the Spanish.