Behind the lake, not visible in the postcard, are a ring of very high hills. These were deforested quite early, but the representatives of the Portuguese Crown, afraid of the loss of an adequate supply of fresh water, insisted on creating a nature reserve. Early in the last century, however, soldiers returning from service, lacking a place to live, began to squat on some of these public lands. They called them “favelas” after a scrubby tree from Bahia, one of the northern states of the country, where many of them had served. Over the course of the twentieth century, dozens of these settlement have been established. Some are still shanty towns, but others are now fairly substantial and permanent settlements.
When John first proposed the idea of taking a tour of a favela, I thought he was insane. Many of the favela neighborhoods are notoriously dangerous. And if it it was safe, wouldn’t it be really offensive to drive around one of these areas and gawk at people living in poverty. But I agreed to go anyhow. It’s hard turning down John. And I am glad I did.
Our tour was much smaller today. We were in the back of a modified jeep. There were eight of us plus our guide. She is the woman on the left.
Because the group was small, we did not spend ninety minutes picking everybody up. Instead, after a couple brief stops, we started climbing up into the hills. As we did, we had some stunning views of the city.
Things did not seem quite as beautiful when we arrived.
We glanced briefly at some handicrafts, and then we went into a small hostel. We climbed several flights to the roof. From there we could see how Rohcina — that is the name of this favela — seems to spill out of the mountains and down into the city below.
And I could see that although none of the development was planned, it all had a certain logic to it. Streets followed the natural curve of the land. From this height, it seemed a little more like an Italian hill town.
We walked from the hostel down through the favela. As we did so, we noticed how bright and colorful the streets were.
And the narrow streets are clearly designed for pedestrians and small motorcycles, not for cars.
There is even a quite unplanned distinction between purely residential neighborhoods and those that are mixed use. There were no areas that appeared purely commercial.
Brazilians seem to both fear and love these neighborhoods. On one hand, they are some of the most violent in the country and drug dealing and gang violence are constant problems. Many wealthy Brazilians see them as a threat to the order and stability of the country. But on the other hand, they are not only some of the most vital areas of the city but much of modern Brazilian art and music finds its roots in the favelas.
One of the more recent expression of the artistic life of the favelas is capoeira. This is a kind of cross between martial arts and dancing. We were given a small demonstration of it in this area which is its birth place.
The young men who were performing tried to teach the graceful moves to awkward tourists with predictably humorous results.
And afterwards, everybody posed for group portraits.
Our last stop was in one of Rio’s most upscale neighborhoods, the beach community of São Conrado. As just about nothing in Portuguese seems to be pronounced the way you expect, the name is really something like “Sow Ko hah doh”. We sat on this lovely beach for a while and sampled açai.
The cliffs above us are famous for hang gliders, but there did not seem to be much action there.
Returning to the hotel, we rested for a bit up on the rooftop bar and then napped some more in our room. John wanted to go to a Brazilian night club and hear traditional Samba and Bossa Nova. A couple people had suggested a place near downtown called the Scenarium. It was a great recommendation.
The Scenarium is located in a neighborhood that was Rio’s red light district until a few years ago. Now the old homes and businesses in the neighborhood are among the trendiest in the city.
We had to wait in line about half an hour before we were allowed in.
Once inside, we noticed that it had a kind of Hamburger Mary’s decor: lots of stuff that had been rescued from junk shops displayed sort of a found art.
The club had three floors and there were several rooms on each floor. In the main room of the first floor was a band playing come classic standards from the Brazil 66 era.
We had dinner, enjoyed the music, and then headed home in a taxi as it started to approach midnight. Tomorrow will be New Year’s Eve!
