IN many ways Havana is a city preserved in amber. The popular image of the city is one of elegant but aged cars, and pastel-coloured paint peeling from cracking walls.

There is another side to the Cuban capital, one defined not by stillness but by the speed and motion of skateboarders. It is this Havana that Nina Ballantyne, a resident of Finnieston in Glasgow’s West End, seeks to explore.

Glasgow and Havana have been twin cities since 2002 and the arrangement has often been controversial. There are obvious macro-political issues but the overriding concern was that this deal was simply a way for councillors to enjoy expensive trips to a Caribbean city.

However there has been undeniable cultural exchange between the two cities, including the popular Cuban film festival as well as displays of Cuban artwork at the Lighthouse.

Nina’s contribution to the relationship will be a little different. Skateboarding is as popular in Havana as it is across the world, but the long-running trade embargo, placed on the communist country by the US means that acquiring the various pieces of equipment needed to take part in the sport is difficult and often impossible.

The sport is inherently risky; breakages of boards and bones are common.

Nina can’t do much about the bones but hopes she can do something about the boards.

What began as a simple holiday has turned into a mission. While researching her trip she came across the charity Cuba Skate. This organisation, based in Washington DC, alerted her to the challenges that Havana’s small but thriving skating community face and inspired her to help as much as she could.

Now, with the help of a number of independent Scottish skate shops, Nina will take a cargo of skating gear across the Atlantic Ocean.

Skateboarding traces its origins to California. Surfers there found that their feet had become more accustomed to board than pavement and so developed the equipment necessary to enjoy something similar to their usual hobby even when the sea wouldn’t provide any waves. Since then the sport has developed its own aesthetic and culture distinct from its aquatic cousin.

While Nina describes herself as a “lapsed skater” it’s clear that she still feels connected to the skating community.

“You try stuff and you fail and you try again,” she says. “I was sharing spaces with people who were way better than me and a few people, not many, who were worse than me. But we were all sharing and learning from each other. It’s something you can do that’s wholesome, and away from pressure. I think that’s really important for young people. Now that I’m older if I can help others participate in that I feel I should.”

WHILE she reminisces about a teenage boarding trip, from her familial home in Denistoun to the skatepark in Kelvingrove, there’s more than a hint of nostalgia about the way Nina talks about the sport. But for many it’s a passion that stays with them throughout their lives.

Clan Skates is a Glasgow-based skate shop which has been operating in the West End of Glasgow for nearly thirty years and will be donating a significant chunk of Nina’s haul.

Lucie Millar, who works at the shop, has been a skater her whole life. For her the universality of the sport is what appeals. “It’s like another language”, she says, “you can travel with it, you can go anywhere with it. A kickflip is always a kickflip.”

Even as an adult skater Lucie recognises that the sport can have a positive impact on young people; “It’s not competitive, but you are competing with yourself” she says. “It’s a great tool for teaching kids, building them up strong, they learn to stick at something, you get camaraderie without having to be in a team.”

That spirit of independence and self-reliance that skating cultivates leads Lucie to acknowledge that the sport’s reputation for attracting loners isn’t entirely unfounded. But introverts can still create a community.

The idea of challenging one’s self to improve rather than being measured by the more explicit score-based methodology that other sports rely on is one that skaters keep returning to.

DAVID Bell, from the Pyramid skate shop, which also made a contribution to Nina’s efforts, said; “It’s not a team sport. You’re on your own. But it’s still social.You’re not pressurised to compete or to excel. You can go at your own pace.”

Witnessing the passion that these Glaswegian skaters have for their sport makes it easy to understand why Nina is so keen to help the community in Havana. Talking to each of them it becomes clear that their certainty that skating can have a positive impact on young people comes from lived experience. Skating isn’t just something they do, it’s also part of who they are.

This isn’t the first time that the Scottish skateboarding community has gone international. Edinburgh-based charity Skatepal, founded by Charlie Davis, coaches young people in Palestine and has even managed to build a skateparks in Ramallah and Zebabdeh. Alongside them there are charities such as Skate-aid, which operates internationally and Skateistan, an NGO operating in Afghanistan.

While a cargo of boards, wheels, bearings and tools is unlikely ever to be much more than a footnote in the history of the relationship between Glasgow and Havana, that doesn’t diminish its importance.

Nina’s trip certainly comes without the fanfare and publicity afforded an international film festival or gallery exhibition nor does it bring the potential financial boon of a trade deal. Nonetheless it’s hard to escape the sense that small gestures like this can be just as effective in building genuine unity with a city more than four thousand miles away.