Welcome to Rio, Give Me Your Wallet

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He muttered something in Portuguese I couldn't understand. Carol did and she told him that it was a quarter past 7. He crouched down and began to talk to Carol. The first thing I thought was he is trying to sell drugs, but there was something wrong in his tone of voice. For a moment, I wondered why he was getting angry. Then Carol told me to give him my wallet and the hostility made sense.

It seemed like a safe situation. Granted, before coming to Brazil I had read a lot of robberies occur on the beach, but there were still people walking by. Around 150 feet to our left we could see a family enjoying the beach. While the sun had gone down it was still a half an hour from getting dark. The board walk around 200 feet was filled with people including the occasional police man. I always thought of robberies occurring in a dark ally, not on the beach I love. But none of that mattered to the man standing in front of me asking for my money in a language I didn't understand.

I had my wallet in the same pocket as my digital camera so I fumbled trying to get the former out without exposing the latter. He was paranoid, kept looking over his shoulder, and telling me to hurry. I had 70 reias in my wallet (around 30 dollars) so it was not a big deal to hand it over. I got the wallet out of my pocket without exposing my camera, and he grabbed it from me. Ignoring the credit card and 10 American dollars he took the 70 reias, and curiously gave me back the wallet. Not satisfied, he turned to Carol and told her to give him her money. After she handed him another 30, he began to look through her purse. When he found her camera my heart dropped. Electronics are ridiculously expensive in Brazil- the cheapest digital camera cost at least 500 American.

He turned to me looking for a camera. He first went through my left pocket, and found a Portuguese phrase book that did not interest him. He checked the other pocket and found my digital camera. This is a camera I had bought 5 days prior specifically for the trip. When he grabbed I took it back from him. He got in my face and shouted something in broken English like "moder fucker I Brazil Mafia I Brazil." The people I was with told me to give the camera and I relented. He walked away and we sat on the sand doing nothing.

The man looked more scared then I was, constantly looking over his shoulder. He did not have an intimidating build, and while he did mention he had a gun he never showed any weapon. In hind site, I am quite sure that if I had acted confidently and definitely from the beginning of the situation he would have walked away to find easier prey. But then again you tell your over and over again that cameras and money can be replaced your life can not. It is possible he had another friend nearby who would step in if there was any trouble and the fact is I was not harmed.

Losing the money did not really bother me, losing the camera really sucked and continues to suck, but the worst part of it was psychological toll it had on me. Any time I had a moment to myself my thoughts would go to the beach replay the events. I would think about what I could have done, or how I could of handled the situation better. I was paranoid and not sure that I would be able to make it down here. Because not only was I robbed, I was a target.

There were four of us sitting in the sand, after all. I later found out he told the other two Brazilians if they shut up nothing would come to them. Carol, a Japanese-Brazilian speaking English to an American, could have been mistaken as a foreigner. He robbed us because he needed money for drugs, but he also robbed me because I was a gringo. I knew Brazil would be dangerous, but I never thought I would be such a marked man.

Not only was I thinking about it constantly, but I lost all sense of faith for any Brazilian. When I was riding a bus or on the subway I could feel everyone's eyes on me. I could tell they knew I was a gringo, and I wondered what they were thinking. It lasted for a good three weeks, and if I didn't stay with first Carol and Giselle, and later Clara during those three weeks, I don't think I could have made it down here.

But slowly, paranoia turned to caution, and I have learned to love the Brazilian people. They are incredibly out going, and look out for own another. If you are on the street, and you ask someone for directions one of three things may happen.
1) They will explain in great detail how to arrive at your destination. Brazilians love to talk so they can easily stretch a simple question to a five minute conversation.
2) If they do not know how to get there they will ask someone else, and continue to ask until you get your directions. Sometimes this involves 3 or 4 Brazilians arguing over the best route to get somewhere which has never failed to amuse me.
3) They will actually go out of their way and walk you to the destination.

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