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Published: April 10th 2011
Rio, Rio, Rio. The words is a verb in itself, conjuring images of sun, sand and samba. One's mind looks down on the city like Cristo Redentor does from his perch, backed by perfect blue skies. We positively salivated at the chance to revel in the city's splendour, dreaming of caipirinhas and birthday hedonism but also wanted to feel the real Rio aside from the 'glitz' and 'glam'. When the chance arose for us to stay in a favela for our time in the jewel of Brasil, it did not take us long to decide.
Vidigal Favela Vidigal is one of the most visible in Rio, looming over Leblon beach from a hill known as 'Morro dos Dois Irmaos' (Hill of the two brothers), where homes of all shapes and sizes compete for space, accommodating approximately thirty thousand people in the process. Somewhere amongst the maze of colourful buildings was to be our home for the next nine days and so with an address in our hands we hopped on a moto taxi and watched our life wizz by as we veered from left to right up the winding, pot-holed roads. Despite the 20kg on our backs the drivers
were seasoned professionals and soon we were there, following an old lady who knew where our address was.
Having seen a santised version of the up and coming, affluent Brasil so far on our travels, we enjoyed the ramshackle yet 'lived in' feel to Vidigal. It possesed an Asian quality with streets used for everything from football to living rooms. We knocked on No.28 to be greeted by a Brasilian lady whom we asked "Pousada?" (guesthouse), she exclaimed "POUSADA?" in a very defiant manner before thankfully calling "Tito....". The irrepressible Tito, a Lithuanian tour guide who is sub letting his place here in Vidigal, welcomed us in to his tiny one bedroom house and to the other guest Sarah, from England. The living room was small, with a kitchen forming part of it and a bathroom attached, but very clean and with a rooftop to envy. He gave us the run down on his place as we stood looking out over the sea and immediately we felt at home with Tito, the house and the favela. It felt like we were staying at a friend's place, like being back at University. The lady at the door was right this
wasn't a POUSADA. This was something quite special.
Vidigal life came easily and within minutes of walking around and talking to the locals, with our limited Portuguese, any notions of favela fear or safety had been dispelled. Standing at the entrance only an hour or so ago, we had both thought to ourselves, what are we doing. But it wasn't a fear of what we saw, there were no drug dealings or guns in sight, no, it was a fear of the unknown coupled with all that we had ever heard about favela's on BBC News, sitting in our peaceful English homes. The worrying factor is that it's not just a prejudice from abroad but more shockingly from the middle and upper classes of Brasil. The mere mention of us staying in a favela to an English speaking Brasilian would have them gasping for air. As always in life, as we are as people and how we are as travellers, we had to go there to find out for oursleves.
It is undoubtedly true that some parts of Rio de Janeiro can be dangerous. Pick pockets in certain tourist enclaves are a way of life and just like
any big city Rio has a high level of crime. But as we ventured out to the city and its surrounding beaches in the nine days we were there we always felt safest in Vidigal. People knew that we were living in their community and greeted us with nothing but kindness. We didnt have to watch our bags so fervently here, we weren't going to get ripped off for being foreign and everything here was a 'real' price and not an inflated city price. Thus supermarkets, bars and restaurants all sold their wares at the price we knew they should be sold at. A large bottle of beer was 3 reais here, compared to potentially 5,6,7 or more in the city. I respect the people of Vidigal for this. As we entered the favela for the first time I thought of how much a moto taxi driver in Asia would over inflate his price for two foreign strangers coming to him. We paid 2 reais for the journey which we later found was the standard rate for everyone.
Part of the reason for the standardisation in prices and the lack of crime in the favela is beacause of ADA
(Amigos dos Amigos), the gang who control drug trafficking in the area. Being controlled by a drug gang and having no policing of the streets may seem bad, but in reality it does not appear this way. The favela is a community, there is no 'crime' and for the majority of the honest, hard working inhabitants gang life is a million miles away. In fact, Vidigal is particularly famous for it's community projects, such as the Theatre School which helped nurture most of the child actors from the sucessful 'City of God' film. This, coupled with schools, a football pitch and countless amenities make it feel like a town worth living in. The problem arises, however, when the police decide it is time to move in. Pacification of favelas is high priority for the Rio government that looks to provide a 'clean' image ahead of the imminent World Cup and Olympic Games. While undoubtedly drug trafficking and gang power is a crime, the police forces' moves to control the favelas may destabalise communities that seem to be working. Bloody gun wars will ensue and crime may actually increase, a wave that will sweep people with it. It seems there is
no right or wrong answer. Favelas have become synonymous with gangs but their very existence is a product of society. Whether the government let the gangs be or attack the source, innocent inhabitants will be caught in the no mans land.
The favela became our way of life, sharing experiences with our new flat mates Tito, Sarah, Genta from Japan and Allen from Taiwan. The whole group of us clicked which was helpful as we all pretty much shared one bedroom with Tito using his mattress on the rooftop. Vidigal is like a town and has everything that you could want, so much so that it makes leaving seem unnecessary. Anything from a shave, to a shower curtain to crack cocaine (joking) can be ascertained in mere minutes. Wandering around the bustle of shops, music, bars and supermarkets was a pleasure as people smiled and looked at us with open interest. We soon picked up the common phrases and thus passing anybody on the narrow streets would involve a friendly parlance of "Tudo Bem?", always replied with "Ta Bon...Tudo Bem?". Further up the steep hill we hit the cobbled streets as the houses became more sparse and the view
opened out onto a perfect vista across the city. People would pay millions for this view and yet it is reasurring that the forgotten people of the favelas have it all to themselves.
The Sights Despite the lure and vibrancy of Vidigal, Rio had quite a few other cards up it's sleeve. As soon as the skies cleared we were making our way to the iconcic Cristo Redentor statue. With our new room mate Allen, we took the quaint train up the steep Corcovado hill to see the man himself. Reaching the huge white-stone Cristo was monumental in so many ways; we were in Rio de Janeiro, at one of the new seven wonders of the world, and the view was amazing. Once we had jostled with the hordes of other Cristo goers and taken the obligatory hands out stretched pictures, we were left to gaze in awe over this beautiful city. The height afforded us a 360 degree view across the city from the Maracana stadium to the beach fronted suburbs of Flamengo, Botafogo, Copacabana and Ipanema. Granite peaks poked out of the horizon as far as we could see, favela's crawled up any hill space available
and the Sugar Loaf mountain stood proud before a glistening sea. The blazing sun persuaded us to buy an expensive 'beer with a view' and with the ice cold Brahma soothing our throats, we sat and admired our surrounds. Before we knew it the sun was sliding down below the hills and painting the panaroma a magnificent purple and pink. Cristo, a work of incredible craft, stood strong amidst the constant flash of camera's and buzz of helicopters that flew by his head. Our legs were fading as quickly as the sunset, but beneath us the twinkle of lights began to wash over the city and illuminate our vista. On queue Cristo then beamed into light and a new wave of pictures ensued before we had to leave. It was a truly special day!
The beaches of Rio may get all the limelight when it comes to this city but the centre is also a great place to explore. There is a plethora of ornate old buildings ranging from Post Offices to Theaters, intercut by interesting streets and markets. On our first foray into Centro we saw that the eye-catching Teatro Municipal had a concert on for the next
few days, that evening was a sell out but we were pleased to obtain tickets for the next day. So at 8pm the next evening, dressed in the best that travellers can muster, we entered the incredibly ornate building and admired the mosaic ceilings, marble staircases, gold leaf and stain glassed windows. We took our seats in the front row of the gallery and waited in anticipation for the Rio Symphonic Orchestra, brushing off somebody's plea that we were in their seats. But as the lights began to dim an usher came to us with the two dismayed women to look at our tickets. Everything was correct, we were in Row A Seats 33 and 32, he studied them for a while and compared them to the other lady's tickets before pointing out that our tickets were for the next evening and not tonight. We said our apologies to the true ticket holders and swiftly excited with an assurance that we would be let in again tomorrow with the same tickets. It was very funny in the end....just as well we went the day before and not the day after. So with our tail between our legs we returned the
next evening to enjoy the grand Teatro Municipal for a second time. Unfortunately however the show was rather dull, called Metropolis, the music and images display was in German with Portugeuse subtitles backed by a brilliant yet morbidly sounding orchestra. We had been at Cristo the whole day and without being able to follow the strange film we both were nodding off only to be relieved and hour and a half later by the interval. I was as glad as Han when we both said at the same time that we couldn't managed another half. So we left!
Making day trips from Vidigal involved a ten minute walk down the steep hill, buying an Acai (a smoothie made with amazonian fruit) and then catching the thirty minute bus ride into town. On the way back the bus journeys could be doubled with traffic which made the beer at our local Vidigal bar all the more sweet. On another sunny afternoon we headed into town and took the rickety, yet brilliant, old tram up through the cobbled streets of bohemian Santa Teresa. A warm lethargy brought on by the heat persuaded us to stay on the tram and just gaze
at the pretty buildings before getting off at the now famous Lapa steps. The brainchild of a funky, madman artist named Seleron, the numerous Lapa steps that connect the suburb of Lapa to Santa Teresa have been tiled in a swathe of colours representing the Chilean artist's love for everything from Brazil to football to himself. It really is an amazing sight as you walk up the changing colours of the steps. As his phenomenon has grown more people have sent him tiles from their countries and now you can find tiles from Switzerland to Scotland. The best bit is that it is constantly changing, he professes that his work will be done only when he dies and that now Rio has a unique, living, changing work of art.
Beaches When in Rio one has to do as the locals do and so it was with little trouble that we hit the beaches and wallowed in the stunning weather. First up was Copacabana, a most famous sweep of sand stetching for 4.5km along the plush boulevard. Going to the beach in Rio is undoubtedly a spectator sport with bikini's smaller than you thought possible and speedo's worn in
worrying numbers. The beach is a hive of activity day and night, surfers compete with the curving waves and volley ball is served up everywhere. As the sun goes down foot volley matches begin with fierce competitiveness, as Brahma drinking sun worshippers amble off the powdery white sand. Sat on the beach it's hard to believe that your in a big city, it feels so relaxed. People walk in their bikinis and speedos into shops and restaurants from the beach and along the promenade without a care in the world. Hell, they're in Rio!
But it's not just Copacabana, there's Ipanema, Leblon, Flamengo, Leme and Vermelho beaches to choose from, all with their own stamp and style. On another day we went to Vermelho beach that sits tucked away behind Sugar Loaf mountain. The sand is different, coarser, the sea calmer and the bikini's bigger but nonetheless enjoyable. I cannot think of a city with such a wealth of beaches in such a clean state. You can be sunbathing one minute and at the theatre in another and yet still the huge development doesn't feel like it has overpowered the beaches or spoiled them in anyway. Of course the
Birthday Beaching at Ipanema
...the mist was really beautifulbeaches would have been backed by thick jungle in the past but instead you have a city of fun and happiness to enjoy behind you.
Birthday We woke at midday, trying to shake off the effects of the previous night. Han made me a delicious birthday breakfast of rice, eggs, avocado and amazonian fruit washed down with some 'horny man's tea' (Sarah had bought it in Uruguay) and a birthday card. Han being Han, this was not any ordinary card, it was a 'han' made card of genius creativity. What a great girlfriend I have.
Feeling revitalised from a cold shower we set off down the hill to meet our hang gliding instructor. Unfortunately, however, he did not show and after thirty minutes waiting in the bright sunshine we decided to go to Ipanema beach instead. Although it was a shame we did not get to hang glide, it really wasn't that disappointing as the sun was shining, we were in Rio de Janeiro and the beach beckoned us.
Ipanema was packed with the weekend crowds lapping up the rays in their distinctly Brasilian ways. As we lay on the golden sand, the 'Girl from Ipanema'
song kept whirling in my head, as I soaked up the occasion. After swimming in the chilly but refreshing sea, I opened my presents which included a beautiful canvas painting of Rio de Janeiro. A great reminder of my 24th birthday here in this special place.
As the sun crept lower, we walked along the shore towards Arporador rock to meet with the rest of the family and watch the sunset. It was the perfect position, directly opposite the blazing ball of fire, to enjoy cold beers and conversations with our Vidigal room mates. It was apt that the sun set behind Vidigal, creating deep red and purple colours in the process. We all delighted in the fact that Vidigal was our home, and as the favela lights began to twinkle in the dusky light there could be no better place to be.
Back at Tito's the night really kicked in. We made very strong caiprinha's, listened to music and then out of the blue a cake and 24 candles arrived with the birthday song. Brilliant! By 11pm we were ready to get going and were all very hungry, which made the huge portion of meat, chips, rice
and salad that was served to us at Sao Christavao market all the better. I don't think I will ever have a more eclectic mix of people sat around a table on my birthday again. Three English, one Japanese, one Taiwanese, one Lithuanian and a Brasilian (Tito's ex-wife). Beers flowed and soon we were dancing to the sounds of samba with the local crowds. The market was huge and continues pretty much 24 hours over the weekend serving food, cheap drinks and live music to the masses.
South America is the place to party and so at around 3am we left Sao Christavao, took a bus to Lapa and entered an Electro club to keep the night moving. Armed with two caipirinha's mixed potently by a street vendor I and my comrades danced the night yet further away, enjoying the musical variety of Rio. By the time we had left the club we were down to the three last standing. Han, of course, Allen and me. The sun was coming up as we took a taxi back to Vidigal still buzzing from the sugary caipirinha's, little did we know then that the night, or now morning, was far from
over.
The moto taxi's stormed us up the hill and in no time we were ordering Brahma's at the local bar on our street. As one can only expect, there were still some people drinking there and so we sang, drank and danced with the just as drunk Miqueais and the chirpy owner Antonio until gone 8am. It was a mammoth birthday and one that, despite the hangover, I will never forget.
Nightlife Rio is one big party. There is something crazy in the bones of the 'cariocas' (citizens of Rio), nothing is held back and life seems to be lived for the moment. On our first Friday night in town we went to the samba district of Lapa and got a taste for that spirit first hand. The old streets were filled with hundreds of merry makers backing on to the numerous bars and samba clubs. Street stalls sold caipirinha's and cervezas to the masses and music rang out from every corner. You did not have to go to a bar or club, as samba would bap out from bands all over the place creating a carnaval atmosphere even after the big festival had finished. There
was a young, friendly crowd enjoying their music and dancing with the mesmerising quick feet movements. Genta, our new room mate, got some impromptu lessons from one guy that thought his bopping up and down was too hard to take. It was all done in good jest and extremely funny.
After hours of samba the night, as you might have come to expect, was still not over. Every Friday night each favela runs a Baille Funk party. Vidigal was no different and when we returned at 3am the main square had turned into a brawl of gyrating revellers blasted at by speakers that rose higher than the houses they backed up to. It was madness! So the party continued, we got some beers and bopped to the heavy bass tunes that got the Vidigal women shaking their booties at ninety degrees. It was a proper favela party with the DJ and MC shouting "Vidi...gal Vidi...gal" and music so loud that my ears were ringing for days afterwards. It was nice to come back to this party and not have to worry about pickpockets as opposed to the many opportunists in Lapa. There were no worries here, this was family!
We had certainly made some friends in Vidigal, and after the birthday antics, had become quite well known. Walking past our bar would now always involve shouts of "amigos amigos" and big hugs. A quiet drink would now turn into a big session as all the patrons would be buying us drinks. Miqueais reminisced with us about his big hangover and how he had been sick after he got home on my birthday. All explained to us in Portuguese with ample hand movements. Genta got into a drinking competition with the owners son one night which, being a small Japanese man, proved to be hilarious as the after effects hit him. Good times rolled at that bar seemingly every night, but it was the same elsewhere in Vidigal. We played pool in one place overlooking the sea and drank Sangria with an English speaking guy at another bar.
When it came to saying goodbye people were genuinely upset that we were going. We were too and seriously considered just staying here. Life was good. But, we had places we still wanted to see and sleeping in a room with 3 other people can only be managed for a
certain amount of time.
It had been an incredible nine days in Rio de Janeiro. Everything we could have wished for and a lot more. The sun had shone for most of the time we were there, we had met some great people and had became acquainted with the life of a carioca. Staying in Vidigal had enabled us to get a real sense of the life here. We didn't feel like mere tourists, we felt like part of the community. We vowed to ourselves and to Vidigal that we would be back, maybe even as residents, who knows. But there is the small matter of the World Cup coming up, which might just be too hard to refuse.
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D MJ Binkley
Dave and Merry Jo Binkley
Love those small towns
Traveling is great when you get off the beaten track. Nice blog.