A few meters north of the Corcovado tramway, old mansions covered in azulejos calmly fall into ruin, surrounded by the lush Tijuca forest. The Largo do Boticário lies in a small alleyway of the Cosme Velho neighborhood , hidden from the eyes of wanderers.
The feeling of isolation in that old square is staggering. Even though the Rebouças tunnel and a bus station are nearby, one can only listen to the murmurs of the Carioca River, gently passing underneath a little bridge. In the middle of this square, a plaque recites a sentence in old-fashioned Portuguese:
VOS QUE MORAES NESTE RECANTO,
SOB A BENÇÃO DA ÁGUA E DO SILÊNCIO,
LEMBRAI-VOS QUE DE VOS DEPENDE O ENCANTO DAQUI
Today, those verses seem tinged with sour irony.
"You who lives in this sanctuary, blessed by water and silence, remember that this beauty depends on you."
I cannot help but think about Rio's history, its vanishing beaches and forests, its sickly waters, its favelas drowning in misery and violence.
And yet, beauty remains, insolent, often clinging to the most abject poverty, like it was telling us that life was not that simple, and that happiness and tragedy often come together.
The Largo do Boticário is a troubling metaphor of Rio de Janeiro. A refuge for noble families in the 19th century, it was rebuilt in the 20th century with fragments salvaged from the demolitions in the old city center. The jungle that slowly devours it, Tijuca, was reforested by Emperor Pedro II. And the small Carioca river is the same where the Tamoios and the Portuguese fought their final battle.
However, this historic place slowly decays, under the enchanted gaze of photographers. The old mansions now shelter homeless people, who live in fear of the police.
According to an article in the O Globo newspaper, Sybil Bittencourt, the owner of most of these building, has given up on restoring them for lack of financial support. For year there were tension between her and the mayor, until 2016, when she put the mansions up for sale. Although the restoration expenses will be exorbitant, many hope to transform Largo do Boticário into a cultural center.
Meanwhile, is squatters are happy to present their home. For some reais, we were able to visit what was left of those ancient palaces, kept in shape by their impoverished inhabitants. Behind their colourful façades, old rooms without furniture host many families, and empty fountains are used to dry clothes.
Further inside, the old garden has been taken over by the forest, and its azulejos stairs rot under the damp mud. Some simple decorations make us think of the carnival parties that hip cariocas organize in this place.
We promptly left the place when police motorcycles entered the old square. There was no violence. The officers looked at us inquisitively, and the squatters shouted at them with fear. Life goes on in that corner of Cosme Velho, an artistic neighborhood in Rio de Janeiro.