On one side of the flat we look out over the biggest favela of Rio and on the other side we look out over the ocean and the tennis court and swimming pool. Michel and his wife Sheila are very generous with us and it makes our stay in Rio very comfortable.
Rio could be de
scribed in one word: Sunny. It is a big city, with not even that many specific tourist attractions, but it has a great natural setting, surrounded by green mountains and the blue sea with its busy beaches, with names like Ipanema and Copacabana (remember the songs?). Our touristy activities include visits to the Pão de Açúcar (sugerloafmountain) and the huge Christ statue for the views. We get many warnings about the dangers, but the most dangerous thing we do in Rio is going to the beach; the waves are really high and even standing knee deep in water can knock you off your feet, but it is fun. Every person we've met on the way who has been to Rio, advised us to go on a so called favelatour. Even though we feel a bit reluctant, as we are not that exc
ited about watching the poor, we're convinced and we go. With a guide and about ten other tourists we go up the mountain and wander down through the narrow streets of Rocinha, the biggest in South-America. About 200.000 inhabitants live here. A lot of small houses, families, open sewers, a bad smell and a good view. Favelas have a bad reputation mainly for all the drug dealing that is going on and the guide points out a guy here and there that is supposedly checking who is coming in and out. He kind of freaks out when someone wants to take a pi
cture of two marijuana smoking guys. Almost funny to us, as marijuana is really no big deal to us Amsterdammers. My sister asks him if he pays anyone to leave us alone. He is all defensive and first answers with a "who told you that?" and then a " of course not, I do whatever I want." It was an interesting visit in the sense that we could see how it really is and not just hear stories about it. Most houses, made of concrete and brick, up there are legal. There is basic sanitation, plumbing, and electricity and even shops. Most people have jobs and are not the criminals that a lot of people try to make of them. It still however felt like a trip in which we went to see the poor. It might've been different had we just arrived in South-America, but we had already had a fair share of decayed houses and smelly streets...
Then t
here was the carnival....Carnival is not so much about dressing up. It is more about big trucks with music and singers on it and people jumping and dancing behind them. These are called 'blocos' and are all over town. We somehow never got really in the mood to get lost in the noise and crowds and mainly watched it from the bus we would be stuck in (constantly). The famous carnival with the dresses and the samba has been taken out of the streets into an especially designed stadium, called the Sambodromo. Four nights, from 8pm till about 6a
m the various schools present their bateria (drum section), their floats and their thousands of dressed up dancers. The family we were staying at had signed themselves up and bought a suit and were dancing in the parade. Sylvia and me did not have tickets to go in, but we watched them from the side, at the entrance of the stadium. We had a fantastic time watching the colourful masses and original floats.
This can also be described in one word: Loucura
!
ited about watching the poor, we're convinced and we go. With a guide and about ten other tourists we go up the mountain and wander down through the narrow streets of Rocinha, the biggest in South-America. About 200.000 inhabitants live here. A lot of small houses, families, open sewers, a bad smell and a good view. Favelas have a bad reputation mainly for all the drug dealing that is going on and the guide points out a guy here and there that is supposedly checking who is coming in and out. He kind of freaks out when someone wants to take a pi
cture of two marijuana smoking guys. Almost funny to us, as marijuana is really no big deal to us Amsterdammers. My sister asks him if he pays anyone to leave us alone. He is all defensive and first answers with a "who told you that?" and then a " of course not, I do whatever I want." It was an interesting visit in the sense that we could see how it really is and not just hear stories about it. Most houses, made of concrete and brick, up there are legal. There is basic sanitation, plumbing, and electricity and even shops. Most people have jobs and are not the criminals that a lot of people try to make of them. It still however felt like a trip in which we went to see the poor. It might've been different had we just arrived in South-America, but we had already had a fair share of decayed houses and smelly streets...Then t
here was the carnival....Carnival is not so much about dressing up. It is more about big trucks with music and singers on it and people jumping and dancing behind them. These are called 'blocos' and are all over town. We somehow never got really in the mood to get lost in the noise and crowds and mainly watched it from the bus we would be stuck in (constantly). The famous carnival with the dresses and the samba has been taken out of the streets into an especially designed stadium, called the Sambodromo. Four nights, from 8pm till about 6a
m the various schools present their bateria (drum section), their floats and their thousands of dressed up dancers. The family we were staying at had signed themselves up and bought a suit and were dancing in the parade. Sylvia and me did not have tickets to go in, but we watched them from the side, at the entrance of the stadium. We had a fantastic time watching the colourful masses and original floats.This can also be described in one word: Loucura
!
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