The butterfly returns: promises, ruins and nostalgia in the Lenin Park in Havana

Havana/After several years in abandonment, the Mariposa Park, one of the most emblematic areas of Lenin Park in Havana, seems to want to raise flight again. Although the official reopening has not been announced, a mixture of work, improvisation and distant memories are already breathed in the field.

“What they are doing for now is fixing the ranchons and other things like that to inaugurate the park again,” says a place worker, while pointsing a couple of newly painted wood structures. “Inside they are fixing the devices for vacations. They have already advanced a lot,” he adds.

The image offered today by the butterfly park is far from the hotbed of children’s laughter and endless tails of yesteryear. Appliances covered by thickets, children’s figures corroded by weathering and Russian mountains arrested over time draw a scene that reminds more of a ghost town than a recreational center. Every time one remembers a device that rode in his childhood and gets something nostalgic.

To the lateral entrance – where it is possible to sneak out without great effort due to the absence of fences -, it receives a dull version of Captain Plin and Elpidio Valdés. Behind, the immense metal star that previously revolved luminous now remains motionless, rusty, without seats, a symbol of deterioration.

One of the few elements alive in the park is the modest kiosk that offers confectionery, beers and soft drinks. “They serve quite well,” recognizes a regular visitor. Even so, some employees consulted are skeptical about the alleged arrangement of mechanical games. “There is nothing new here. Go to Expocuba if you want to see something, there are at least giving modules for children,” said a saleswoman between resigned and incredulous.

In the surroundings of the park, other spaces reveal the same abandonment pattern. Behind the area known as “The riders with a head and without head”, an old Chinese restaurant called the dragon survives without offering Asian food, but beer and the occasional quick dish. Later, the barbecue and other ranches that previously worked as restaurants and coffee shops, are now ruins covered with rubble.

The bamboo forest, which used to be a magical place to hide or simply walk, has been partially chape, leaving behind a stamp of knocked trunks and clear naked. Silence is imposed, barely interrupted by birds or the constant buzz of chicharras.

In the midst of this desolate landscape, the attempt to relive the space is manifested in small details. On the outskirts of the butterfly, a few apparatus for children have been installed and ranches are rehabilitated where families can sit down to eat. “Every weekend that passes a little more people come,” says an optimistic worker.

The business walks business, which has also suffered the consequences of the tourist decline, tries to stay afloat. “We are doing well, but it has to be legal. We have a contract with the head of the Park, because the police demand papers,” explains one of the drivers.

Only a few horses are available and those who rent them must compete with the memories of a tourism that was once much more dynamic. “Now there are barely tourists and it is difficult to find someone out there,” laments one of the riders.

Among those who offer the walks are minors, some as young as 10 or 12 years. “We are little because we are the only legal ones,” clarifies the caregiver of one of the animals, while trying to convince a family to be encouraged to ride.

The attempt to reactivate the butterfly park occurs in parallel to the semi -experience state of the rest of the Lenin Park. Their green areas continue to attract families that improvise picnics, steep papalotes or play football among Las Palmas. In the Palace of the Pioneers, the open bars and the absence of custodians turn the place into another symbol of institutional abandonment.

The new director of the Mariposa Park has guaranteed certain improvements, they say site workers. “This here they have let it decline because of several previous headquarters. But this director has done a lot. This was thrown, with stagnant waters that oxidized the devices,” recalls an employee.

“When this was working, I was good,” says a custodian with nostalgia. Meanwhile, two of his colleagues interrupt the conversation to ask a group of visitors to leave the area of the devices, with such a moderate firm that he suggests that more than authority exert a learned routine.