“Dona Margarida lives very close to Rocinha,” explained a homesick Fabio over an espresso not quite as strong or sweet as the Brasilian version I later tasted at Shakespeare café in Dubai.

Address in hand, I was the first to arrive at the residence of the elusive Dona Margarida — whom I shall refer to from now on as DM — not knowing what to expect when the exceptionally chirpy guard guided me into the lift and hit level 7. After a few minutes of ringing the bell (it turns out DM is hard of hearing), I was greeted by a exuberant DM who had anticipated my arrival by preparing breakfast fit for the Sheikh of Abu Dhabi – coffee, freshly squeezed orange juice, marble cake, cheese, bread and pao de queijo, balls of bread with cheese inside I would soon come to love.

Zainab forces Ica into taking a picture

DM refused to join me for breakfast while I struggled to explain to her the reason why I had arrived without any luggage, as Delta Airlines had temporarily misplaced my bag. This was the first of many conversations I would have with DM. I had stupidly arrived in Brasil not knowing a word of Portuguese, but somehow that never seemed to be an obstacle when talking to her.

By the time my traveling companion Zainab arrived that evening, DM and I were wearing identical nighties (yes, I shared clothes with an 80 year old my first day in Rio, sexy!) and enjoying a bowl of sugary dessert together. We started calling her Ica, or grandma, by the time night fell.

Ica is an enigmatic old lady. During the first three weeks of our stay in Rio we touched upon every topic under the sun – religion, politics, family, travel, you name it. Ica would speak to us like we were fluent in Portuguese and we’d magically nod along and ask questions at all the right moments.

We developed a relationship with Ica which transcended the language barrier. Together we would watch her favorite telenovelas (soap operas) full of colorful storylines of glamorous love triangles, paternity mysteries and rags-to-riches successes. We would watch with awe as she read the Globo newspaper from front to back every single day.

Picking up some words during our lengthy conversations and absorbing some of the pictures which lay around the house we had developed an entire story of Ica’s life in our heads, but it was nowhere as colorful as the actual story which Fabio told us.

Ica was born in the north of the state of Rio, in a city called Campos. She comes from a family of many brothers and one sister who is Fabio’s grandma. She graduated from University and became a school teacher. She has taught all across the state, from big cities to tiny country villages with population of 50 people. Later she became the principal of a major municipal school in Rio until roughly 1988 when she retired from that position. She loved her work and her students like no other teacher.

She was also a communist, and was put on the governments watch list during the ’60s. She fought the military dictatorship on the streets and never allowed a single military man to enter her school to capture any of her pupils. She was a fighter.

As a young girl she used to play tennis and basketball. No one knows why she never married but apparently her fiancé died in Europe during WWII. She had enlisted as a nurse during WWII and was about to board a plane on that same day Germany surrendered.

So it seems our telenovela-watching and Globo-reading Ica has lived more than a few lifetimes in her 80 some years.

Mehr Amin is currently teaching English at the i2i Institute in Rocinha, the largest favela in Latin America. For more on life in Brazil, check out entries by blogger Jamie Worms. For more on homestays in Latin America, check out “Department of Homestay Security” by Kent Green.

Five years ago Cleber set up a boxing institute in the favela Rocinha. The classes are being held on the rooftop of a kind neighbor, and are still without a proper boxing ring or equipment today.  “I am afraid of the students getting hurt in these conditions so we stick to basic practice routine and do not get into combat training,” explained a worried Cleber.

The gloom that had settled in after our conversation wiped away as soon as the class began. Cleber, who’s love affair with boxing began 16 years ago when he saw the 1976 blockbuster Rocky, has made it a mission to help the youth in Rocinha discipline themselves through the art of boxing. “He is a source of inspiration to me,” admitted one of his eager students who is nicknamed Manny Pacquiao after the professional Filipino boxer.

Pacquiao will be competing in the interfavela boxing championships. At 25 years old, he first learned boxing in a favela in Ipanema called Cantagalo. The style of boxing he learned is built on the philosophy of passing the technique on to others. Although he has a day job in IT, he spends his evenings devoted to developing boxers at the Rocinha institute alongside Cleber.

Bashful to admit it, Cleber’s dedication to push Rocinha to qualify for the Rio 2016 Boxing Olympics has kept many youth off the streets and away from drugs. Networking with various NGOs, including Instituto Dois Irmaos, keeps an influx of youngsters with discipline and control issues coming to the institute.

We hope that Cleber’s dream of fighting at the MGM arena comes true and we look forward to cheering on Rochinha in the 2016 Olympics!

Rewind two months back: “That’s the problem with creative agency folk,” my father complained, “one minute you’re happily working the next you have quit and booked a flight to Rio de Janeiro.”

It was the most electrifying decision both Zainab and I had ever made.

To quit a good job and sell off possessions that built a comfortable life for – drum roll – a Brazilian favela. “Surely they have lost their minds…” pondered our more level headed friends.

Fast-forward to today: We have been living with a wonderful carioca family in Rio for the past three weeks and already feel like the Cidade Maravilhosa (marvelous city) has cast it’s spell on us.

The transformation from burqas to (very skimpy) bikinis is but one of the many obvious landscape differences we are getting accustomed to, including the verdant mountains and white-sand beaches of Brazil as opposed to the man-made concrete jungle that is Dubai.

We spend our days teaching English at the i2i institute in Rocinha, the largest favela in Latin America with a population of 200, 000. Interaction with our students – all from the local community – has sped up our understanding of the culture within the favela.

During our time away from the favela we have been practicing Forro dancing in Lapa, devouring delicious acai and have even attended a football match at Maracana! For the National Day holiday, we headed down to the Portuguese town of Paraty – a charming historical gem that has been claimed as a UNESCO world heritage site.

Stay tuned for our observations and experiences from inside Rocinha and around Brazil!

This is Mehr Amin’s first post on La Vida Idealist. For more on life in Brazil, check out entries by blogger Jamie Worms.

From doing Google searches and coming across threads like this one on Lonely Planet’s Thorntree Forum, I knew it was going to be controversial. In a way, though, that was part of the reason why the description about Marcelo Armstrong’s tour in the Lonely Planet book was appealing:

The pioneer of favela tourism, Marcelo takes small groups to visit the favelas of Rocinha and Vila Canoas near São Conrado, where he does an excellent job explaining the social and political context of the favela in relation to greater Rio de Janeiro. Marcelo’s outfit donates a portion of its profits to favela social projects.

I wanted to go because I was curious, especially after reading fellow blogger Jamie Worms‘ insightful posts into favela life. I didn’t want to just spend time on the beaches in Copacabana and Ipanema without ever knowing what more than half of Rio’s population lived like. I wanted to learn more.

But I admit I was initially hesitant. I was worried that it would be a voyeuristic gawking at the poor, and I would be stuck with loud travelers who would make ignorant and inappropriate comments. It turned out to be neither.

Instead of Marcelo, the very knowledgeable Simone was our English-speaking guide, and she set a respectful tone from the outset. (There was one American who joked,”I need to put my wallet away before it gets robbed,” and she quickly gave him a look. There were no more jokes after that.) We all got in a large van and went first to Vila Canoas, a smaller favela, where we were allowed to get out and walk around.

It was what you would expect – houses upon houses on top of each other and narrow alleyways right across the street from an affluent neighborhood. I don’t know Portuguese so unfortunately I couldn’t speak to any of the residents, but it was cool just to be able to walk around in their footsteps, albeit briefly. I was most struck by a mural of the garbage collectors which was painted as a homage to their hard work, some of which includes making sure trash doesn’t clog up the dam in a small river that randomly runs through the favela. We also had the chance to visit Para Ti, a school that has already sent an unprecedented 70 kids to university, thanks in part to proceeds from the tour.

Our next and final stop was the Rocinha favela, the largest out of the 800 favelas that are related to the drug trade. Some interesting facts I learned while standing on a rooftop overlooking the community:

* The drug lord has been in the game for over 20 years now, and moves houses every eight days.
* He WANTS the tour. So do many other drug lords. That way, it shows favelas are safe. In fact, every Saturday night there is a Baile Funk party for cariocas and residents alike.
* And you know what? For the most part they are. Well, so they say. The drug lords are determined to make sure that the drug hand-offs happen only at the gate, where people from different social classes come to get their fix.
* The police stand next to the gates and often, turn the other cheek. Anybody who has watched Season 3 of HBO’s The Wire and remembers Hamsterdam knows what I’m talking about.
* Speaking of The Wire, there is a hierarchial system that involves managers, watchers, and dealers who are the drug lord’s eyes, ears and hands. Kids as young as ten years old will be watchers and the problem is, once they’re in they can’t get it out. Sadly, they’re in the game for life because they know the faces of all of the players.
* If you see different colored fireworks set off in the favelas, something is up: Green = Marijuana shipment; White = Cocaine shipment; Red = Gang war.

Of course, it’s not all about the drugs. The city government, for one, is currently building a large hospital in Rocinha. And there are a ton of awesome social projects created by the communities themselves that are positively addressing problems in the favelas.

At the end of the day, I can’t say that I know what it’s like to live in a favela. I couldn’t communicate and really learn about what daily life was like, something I loved as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Guyana. But the tour was informative, interesting and useful – and I left not only eager to learn more but wanting to do something, anything, to contribute to the communities I visited.

What do you think? Do tours such as these hurt or help the favelas?

About two hundred men, women, and children —representatives from several communities — gathered in front of City Hall with t-shirts, signs, protest songs, and elected speakers who took their turn in front of the megaphone.

Why? The City Department of Housing has officially announced that 119 entire favela communities, totaling at least 12,196 homes, will be removed by 2012. The city cites reasons of “risk” to justify their removal. According to the officials, “risk” means that these communities exist in places prone to flooding, landslides, or overall need for environmental protection.

However, not all of the communities threatened with removal are at risk. One such community is Vila Autódromo, whose only crime is existing in the very location where the city plans to build the Olympic Training and Media Centers. People do not want to go!

The argument is sound. If there is no environmental risk and if the community is safe and law abiding, the residents feel as if the city is simply cleaning up their city to make way for international tourists who are expected to flock in record numbers for the Olympic Games and World Cup. Residents feel like the city is once again trying to displace and exploit the voiceless poor because their houses aren’t pretty. Instead of helping them upgrade, the city wants them gone.

After years, and in some cases decades, of residence in these locations, where are they expected to go? One protest sign asked just that. Other signs read:

“There is so much vacant space is Rio, why displace us?”

“We’re asking for respect!”

“Say no to removal, Cariocas against social segregation!”

“Removal is a social crime!”

“We’re Rio’s chance to show that we have serious policy — Urbanization”

“Why do our news media give voice to the City and not the Community?”

Despite the peaceful and very orderly protest, City Hall closed its gates which, apparently, are always open to the public. In fact, I had walked through those very gates on my way to the protest just a few hours earlier.

In the end, a small handful of community leaders and journalists whose names were on a list were allowed past the gates of city hall to talk with the city officials. I personally hope for successful negotiations.

Jamie Worms is currently a volunteer with Catalytic Communities and Calle. To learn more about favelas and life in Rio de Janeiro, check out some of Jamie’s past posts.

The Resident's Association

Catalytic Communities is currently competing in the Ideablob contest. This contest allows anyone to submit and vote for their favorite innovative idea. The idea with the most online votes by October 31, 2009 will win $10,000. Our idea is called “Rio Olympics: Ensuring a Powerful Legacy for Rio’s Favelas.”

If we win, we will use the prize money to prepare communities across Rio for the Olympic Games. Although the Olympics are set to earn three times the amount of money it will spend in its preparation, certain citizens have concerns.

A Vila Autódromo resident of 19 years

With the creation of new infrastructure including sports facilities, the expansion of outdated transportation corridors, as well as the construction of hotels and restaurants, the landscape of Rio will inevitably and irreparably change. This transformation will undoubtedly displace, fracture, and gentrify many unsuspecting communities.

On one hand, it could be argued that the removal and relocation of certain communities is an ‘upgrading’ process. In certain instances, residents are eagerly awaiting compensation for their houses and/or the opportunity to be relocated nearby. For these individuals, relocation means a chance to start over.

On the other hand, many residents, especially those who have lived in their communities for a number of years, are not happy with the decision. Many people have invested and worked hard for the quality of life they have achieved, are clearly disheartened by the news.

A very rare street sign in Vila Autódromo

This is the case for many of the residents living in the fourty-year old community of Vila Autódromo, located less than a kilometer away from the future Olympics site. Vila Autódromo is an old fishing village community that functions peaceably without militias, without drug trafficking, and without crime. Many residents have moved here to avoid just that. Yet, this community, which is home to an estimated 1,200 families, is slated for removal to make way for Olympics facilities.

Catalytic Communities wants to give communities like this a voice. We want to train community residents and leaders in using social media in order to amplify their voices and guarantee their concerns are heard by local authorities, the media, and international community. There should be an open dialogue between residents and city officials. If the residents should have to leave, they need to tell the city exactly what they are losing so they can attempt to recapture these aspects of their lives in a different location.

We would like to use the prize money to help residents collaborate with the city powerfully, intelligently, and progressively. With your help we can ensure a powerful legacy of Rio’s favelas. Please join our cause and VOTE!

There is also a dichotomy between Cariocas (people born in Rio), and foreign volunteers. If a foreign volunteer asks a random Carioca to join him in the favela, 97 percent of Cariocas will say “no.” Sternly.  And in under two seconds.

Cariocas have been conditioned to fear the favelas. Statistically, they are undesirable and very dangerous locations. Favelas are the center of drug trafficking activities, where lives are consumed and destroyed through high homicide rates resulting from incidents of stray bullets, random police invasions, and drug trafficker wars.

So, the Carioca must ask himself, why would I want to go the epicenter of danger in my city? And without an overwhelmingly positive answer, they often, very level-headedly, decline the volunteer’s invitation.

And sometimes for good reason. A friend of mine was once driving through Rio. He was trying to enter a highway called Linha Vermelha. He saw a ramp that looked like it would certainly connect. But, it didn’t. The ramp went up, paralleled the highway, and then made a sharp turn back down into a favela. Immediately, my Carioca friend knew he had made a mistake. At his earliest convenience, he decided to make a three-point-turn, and leave. Unfortunately, not quickly enough. Five men with guns surrounded the car, and asked him to get out. They took his wallet, looking for identification, and repeatedly asked whether or not he was a cop. Luckily, he was not, and they eventually let him get back into his car, and leave. They told him never to come back, and he has never returned.

Months later, I remembered this story while seeing one such ramp. I discovered that I too had been to this favela, but clearly, under different circumstances. I frequented this favela weekly, without fear or problems. And it struck me that there are places completely inaccessible for Cariocas, yet perfectly safe for a volunteer like me.

In the end, I am not sure if anything is ever just safe or unsafe, rich or poor, booming or developing. But one thing is for sure, dichotomies certainly exist.

Community Library in Novo Iguaçu, Baixada Fluminense de Combate a Pobreza e a Fome

Once I stepped foot into my first favela, there was no turning back. I was truly spellbound. I had learned how they formed, I knew a bit of their tumultuous history, and my next obstacle was to understand how they functioned.

It also came time for me to choose a topic for my master’s thesis. Initially, I wanted to study the drug traffickers. I figured they held the answer to how favelas were managed. Fortunately, or not, that idea was quickly overruled. (Mostly due to my non-existent Portuguese skills and the danger these factions represent.) Luckily, for my family and friends, much on this subject had also already been written. And, for the most part, I get the gist. Traffickers work with lucrative material, and are therefore able to purchase their protection from the police and from the residents, in the form of guns and bribes. Because of this, they become powerful, and almost authoritarian, actors in the favela arena.

So, in the light of restrictions and impositions, I wanted to know more about the daily lives of the residents. I wanted to ask them who they were, what they did, what they used, and what they needed. This would give me an idea about how their lives were affected by all of the actions and actors implicated in the management of their communities.

Samba School, Aós Pes do Santa Marta

Soon enough my research question had been redefined. Instead of focusing on the negative aspects of favela life, I began to focus on the positive. Over the course of six months Roseli Franco, the Network Director for Catalytic Communities, brought me to a number of community projects. We visited a library, a physical therapy clinic, a workshop for children, a physical disability center, a program for prophylaxis and treatment of dental disease, a samba dance school, and a Catholic day care center for girls. All of the projects were designed around positively addressing a problem being faced by the community.

What I found was that in light of poor schools, poor health care, governmental neglect, political exploitation, danger, isolation, and poverty, residents were uniting to produce interesting and unique forms of development to improve their lives and the lives of others. As residents assembled to eradicate a specific problem, new community solutions were born.

At this point I knew I could no longer be a casual bystander.

Inside favela Maré

After my last post, you might be wondering why I choose to work in these “‘dangerous” communities. Once I had heard that favelas existed, I had to see and experience them for myself.

I went to Brazil, and through some personal contacts, was able to join a group of college students taking a tour of the favelas with an NGO called Viva Rio. We went to two favelas, Maré and Rocinha.

Maré sign

We arrived in favela Maré in a huge air conditioned coach tour bus. One by one we trotted off the bus. The sound of fireworks marked our journey from the bus directly into the community center we visited. One of the girls in my tour said, “Oh, they’re welcoming us!” And I couldn’t help but think that she hadn’t done her homework. Normally the sound of fireworks in a favela means if you are doing something you shouldn’t be doing, you should stop, because someone who isn’t supposed to here has just arrived. In one aspect, this girl was correct. But, I truly think she missed the point.

There was a stark difference between the outside and inside walls of the community center. Outside, the streets were dusty and bare. Inside, colorfully painted walls and smiling children warmly greeted us. It was truly an oasis amidst a grueling desert.

One of the things that struck me the most was a brown post with signs pointing the direction of certain important places. It was much like those sign posts that indicate the mileage to certain cities. Being a geographer, those signs always crack me up! But this sign post was less amusing and more heartfelt: this way to art, food, hair cutting, theater, and that way to the secretary and social and psychological services.

Inside the community center located in favela Maré.

At that moment, it hit me. Favelas are not simply a phenomenon to be read about in a book. There is always more than what meets the eye. I truly felt the misconceptions accompanying the favelas were unfounded. Real people live in these communities, and they have real problems to overcome. And, the sole fact that this community center existed proved that the potential for improvement is so great! I had only begun to scratch the surface…

Rocinha is the largest favela in Rio de Janeiro. Check out the differences in land use from this aerial photograph! (Source: Guilherme Fonseca, 2005).

The first time I heard the term favela, I was a 20-year old college student enrolled in a History of Latin America class. I remember being astonished and outraged–almost to the point of betrayal–to learn that between 1/3 and 1/5 of the population of Rio lives in a favela. That is a lot of people never to have heard about!

As I came to understand, the word favela is used to describe low income settlements in Brazil. These settlements are fundamentally characterized by poverty, ‘self-help’ construction, ambiguous legal statuses, isolation, searing public sentiment, and the influx of organized crime.

Originally, favelas were formed as illegal squatter settlements when emancipated slaves–turned soldiers–were not compensated for their efforts in the War of Canudos circa 1895. The soldiers returned to Rio and established a settlement–in protest–on Morro da Providência (which sat in front of the old War Ministry). The government did nothing. Over time, this settlement grew in population, attracted new inhabitants, and ran out of space.

Before long, similar favelas existed in several locations, marking Rio distinguishably by contiguous low and high income settlements. Due to recent tenor laws, many favelas are no longer illegal, but are still in the process of receiving public and regulated services, as well as reversing their unwarranted stigmas associated with squalor and disease.

The physical location and layout of the hastily constructed communities makes the favelas of Rio particularly unique. As opposed to the wealthy living in the hills above the city, that is where favelas have opportunistically thrived.

A view of the 'self help' construction at favela Dona Marta

Unfortunately, drug trafficking has also thrived. Favelas are not only home to thousands of law-abiding residents, but due to the high density housing, steep slopes, and winding streets, favelas are also a perfect safe-haven for illegal activity. In Rio, most favelas are controlled by drug trafficking factions vying for territory in which to operate. Traffickers are often at war with one another to obtain exclusive rights to these areas, and are often at war with the police. The danger of stray bullets and the stronghold of drug traffickers also makes life for favela residents extremely challenging.

Luckily, media and technology have become one of the most powerful tools to effectuate change and overcome poverty in these extreme circumstances.

Which brings me to my job!  I use technology in order to connect people, ideas, and resources. Using these tools, lives can improve here in Rio, and information can be disseminated throughout world. Others do not have to be as shocked as I was to learn about these communities.