Rio de Janeiro is a visually stimulating city. Actually, all senses are heightened here. Even for a New Yorker I found it’s pulse vibrant but relaxed…. not quite as rushed as New York but still with so much going on. I think it is the elements of weather and water that don’t make Cariocas ( people from Rio) as uptight, in a rush as New York.
A city of 6 million and change, Rio has something for everyone. Brazilian food is not very vegetarian friendly, but Brazilians have borrowed influence from all of the immigrant groups found in Brazil. Oh and the fruit is ambrosia! In Rio, there are large immigrant groups of Lebanese, Italian, Japanese, among other groups. It has an amazing botanical garden, excellent museums, a huge renowned soccer stadium (Marcana), great nightlife and music, beautiful beaches, vibrant neighborhoods that come alive at night, and not to mention gregarious war, amazing people!
It is with disappointment that I saw allot of prostitution, but with much excitement that I found out that the discothèque “Help” in Copacabana being shut down. In Copacabana there is allot of sex tourism. Mostly European, American, and Latin men looking for easily available sex trade.
People always hear questionable concerns about violence in Rio. They hear about drug wars, violence, and the prostitution. Being there during Carnival, I have to say that I felt safe. Carioca gets a bad rap. Even the petty theft that happens there is misinterpreted as a hostile interaction. It is the poor in desperation that are pushed to the point of action – the will to survive. There was one night that we hung out at the beach late at night, I had had a few drinks and was eager to learn to samba under the influence. The barkeeper who sold us coconuts and caipirinhas told a street kid hanging around to teach me to samba. I told him with body language to do the steps slow and he did so that I could mimic him. After attempting to dance and making a fool of myself but having a good laugh, my friends and I ordered a sandwich. The kid seemed to be staring at us and we finally concluded that he was hungry. We bought him a burger. As soon as it was ready, the kid grabbed the burger, which we had paid for and ran across the street, eating it, walking barefoot back into the streets.
This experience snapped us out of our perceived luxury and made us think about our privilege and our need to feel like we can still communicate. We didn’t look at the exchange as charity. This kid had spent a good few minutes teaching me something, and we were obliged to pay him back.
The saddest thing about going to Rio had to leave. It was heart-renching saying good-bye. I’ve come to realize this is an aspect of my trip that I'm not too happy about. Falling in love with places, meeting people and then having to leave them. I asked Joanna what I should do with the guilt, the hurt that stems out of feeling like my time somewhere is too short. For abandoning the amazing people that opened there lives and homes to us. I keep all of them with me.
Message to everyone I have met on the way: please write me, please stay in touch and please never shy away from the opportunity to repay you with the same hospitality. This is what I want to get out of these experiences. A network, of people, working, communicating and resolving in solidarity the debt of our existence and inability to create meaningful solutions to our lives and to the current space and time. Above is my attempt to pay tribute to a city of splendor. I hope to do it a sliver of justice.
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