Advertisement
Published: November 30th 2010
Edit Blog Post
Like all cities, Rio has great neighborhoods for exploring and staying. While the more upscale hostels were in the leafy streets of the beach communities of Ipanima and Copacabana, I chose to stay in the central and more affordable Botofogo. It was a residential area with mansions from the 19c, now housing schools, cultural centers or the small, quirky museums that I love--the house of classical composer Hector Villa-Lobos, Museum of the Indians with gorgeous feathered, carved and woven artifacts presented in the contexts of their use, and the pink mansion and gardens of a liberal statesman.
I stayed at El Misti, the nicest in a row of hostels and splurged on a 6-bed dorm rather the 12-bed, triple bunks ones. There, a chef whipped up super breakfasts of strong coffee, fresh mango juice, papayas and melon, lots of sweets and rolls, ham and cheese. I was buzzed for the day!
I stayed in Rio longer than planned because there was an international film festival, and I'm a total film hound. This gave me an excuse to go to theaters in rarely-visited neighborhoods, and also focus on the two art-house cinemas in my neighborhood. I saw fabulous films, many
of hope--"Cultures of Resistance" and "Women are Heroes" showcased people from poor communities, including Rio's favelas, successfully fighting for their rights. During the days, I went exploring.
A great spot for wandering was Santa Teresa, an artsy neighborhood of winding hills of cobblestone streets and quirky old colonial homes that is being gentrified. I took the trolley car up, then walked down, chatting with people along the way and stopping to window shop in little galleries. I passed a jack fruit tree with bizarre, 2-feet long fruit, and was told that one needs to wait until they're 4-feet long to eat them. Supposedly, they are quite tasty.
On my descent, I passed a gorgeous old mansion with just the facade intact and thought how sad that the building hadn't been preserved. However, when I doubled around the corner to see it from the back, I found that it had been converted into the Park of the Ruins with steel and glass holding the building together and forming a space for art exhibits and concerts. So appropriate since the woman who owned the mansion had held salons there and been a supporter of the arts.
As it started
to rain, I ducked next door into the Museum Chacara do Ceu (Small Farm of the Sky), an architect-designed modern home of a wealthy art patron and his collection of 20c European and Brazilian masters. As the rain let up, I continued down and came to the colorful Escadaria de Selaron, stairs covered with tiles from all over the world by an eccentric Chilean artist, Selaron.
Finally, I came to a park with the striking Arcos da Lapa, beautiful white stone arches that had been an 18c aqueduct bringing water from the Carioca River to the city. Abandoned, it was then converted into a viaduct over which chugged the little trolley cars up the hillside to Santa Teresa.
Rio also had many fine museums with pleasant parks surrounding them. The Beaux Arts Museum had the usual art as well as great prints and paintings of stunningly beautiful early Brazil. The Modern Art Museum had thought-provoking modern works as well as a set of rather close-up pornographic videos of a couple copulating. The elegant Palace of Catete once housed the country's presidents and is now the city's Historical Museum with the private grounds now a charming park.
Rio's
churches, like those in other Brazilian cities, were wonderfully free of the bloody Jesuses one sometimes finds in Latin American churches. Instead, the alters had sweet images of Mary, Joseph and little boy Jesus walking together as a family. Also common was Mary holding baby Jesus, and my favorite, Mary of the Conception surrounded by lots of chubby cherubs.
This emphasis on motherhood was partly because Brazil needed to encourage fertility in its early days of settlement. Now, fertility is a problem since most of the population is quite young, and many without resources have many large families.
The churches in the old colonial center were like gold and white wedding cakes though even these were topped by St Bento's hilltop monastery church that had areas of solid gold. The center was also filled with restored colonial mansions, the former imperial palace and bank buildings turned into cultural centers, ferries to nearby islands and the state legislature.
Rio's legislative building, Tiradentes Palace, had a great Portuguese-only exhibition on the history of its sometimes-fragile democracy (good) and a crucifix centrally located in the front of the legislative chamber above the clock (not good). I had a very informative,
private tour by a history student from the university who enlightened me on the nature of politics in Latin America. It's so pitiful that corrupt politicians siphon off so much public money when there is so much need in these countries. One such area of need in Brazil is the favela.
The favelas are urban neighborhoods seen everywhere in Rio, climbing the hills above the lower touristed areas. They've grown exponentially in the last few decades, the largest has 300,000, as the rural poor have flooded into the city seeking work.
New residents simply build their houses, of extremely-ugly bricks and cement, on top of other houses. There are areas where the houses have been painted, and it made such a difference; however, this is my aesthetic. The outside images don't seem to be a priority for the residents. On the other hand, there is other beautiful here, for they have the best views over the city and are on and looked over by the great granite monoliths of the city.
Most houses aren't reachable by vehicles, and everything is carried up a labyrinth of cement steps by hand. It was amazing to see kids running up
and down the cement steps in flip-flops--one wonders about the joints of the elders.
Now, with housing prices so high and wages often low, professionals--teachers, government workers and others also live there. The favelas have community centers, samba schools (the backbone of Rio's famous Carnival), churches, especially evangelical ones, libraries, stores, etc. In some, the police have succeeded in driving out the drug lords who've traditionally controlled the favelas, making them more like traditional neighborhoods.
Tours give tourists a human face on these places and help plow money back into the communities. Ironic that Brazil has free universal health care, but it doesn't reach into the favelas. Fortunately, lots of NGOs are working there as well as lots of government programs. A great film I saw before coming was Favela Rising, about a charismatic young guy who helped develop programs of art and music to help kids have an identity other than belonging to drug gangs. So many poor in contrast to some who are so rich.
A town with many wealthy residents is Petropolis, the former summer home of the Portuguese royal family, the two emperors of Brazil. For half an hour, high in mountains covered
by the lush Atlantic Rainforest.
Petropolis is laced with canals and picturesque bridges, graced with colonial mansions and a neo-gothic cathedral, and anchored by the perfectly-preserved Imperial Palace and its gardens. We shuffled around the palace in booties to protect the parquet floors, admiring gilded cradles, huge porcelain services and the furnishings of rich, dark jacaranda wood, a tree now almost extinct. Outside, there were our Santa Barbara jacaranda mimosa trees with their spring- and summer-blooming purple flowers. I love learning where our plants originated.
My final evening in town, I caught a concert of Mahler's 10th unfinished symphony, at the opulent Teatro Municipal, patterned on the Paris Opera. I arrived early, so I could waft around the marble and gilded theater, feeling transported to the early 20c. A fine end to a stay in one of my favorite large cities.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.051s; Tpl: 0.016s; cc: 10; qc: 25; dbt: 0.0271s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb