Farewell Rio

Jack Fruit

Diverted Electricity

Favella

Narrow Alleys

Jan. 25, 2009-Favellas

How's this for a wedding night? Remember the Peters from Petropolis? Well one of them, at this point I don't remember or care which one, had his 12 year old bride sent to him from Europe. This was an arranged marriage and she wasn't having it. On their "honeymoon night" she refused his favors and when he persisted she bit part of his ear off. He should consider himself lucky that she chose his ear and that her name wasn't Lorena Bobbit.

The point of the Favella tour is to show people the other side of Brazil and a truer view of life there other than what's shown in the media. The tour succeeded and failed. It did show how the poorest of poor live but to me it confirmed what the media covered. One good thing is we did get to taste jack fruit which looks like an animal carcass when open. It's sweet but slimy. The taste didn't compensate for the feel.

David, Laura Lee, Colleen & I joined our guide Marina. She was an exchange student in Peninsula, Ohio in the 1970's and seemed nice enough. When we passed a sign warning of Dengue Fever she said her daughter had it. There are two kinds. With one you bleed with the other there's fever and joint pain. Her daughter contracted the second and recovered. The only treatment is hydration. I vaguely knew it was a problem here but she said it was epidemic a few years ago and being a teen-ager her daughter didn't use insect repellant. She does now.

Marina suggested we see the movies City of God and Elite Squad to get a good idea of life in a Favella. She gave us a general rundown on Favellas after we picked up people from other hotels. The organization running the tours is independent of Grand Circle and donates money to the schools in the Favellas we visit. Brazil has 750 Favellas and 20% of Brazilians live there. The government and Catholic Church ignore them and the many children living there. After all, this is a Catholic country so no birth control is offered, in fact, it's illegal.

In most places the rich live on the hillsides and enjoy the views. Here the poor do, but the neighborhoods can be across the street from each other. This is the working poor in a country that has no welfare system for those who can't work. Many are construction laborers and many work in hotels, restaurants, & homes. Building material is scavenged. Many people in the Favellas own their homes there. The law is that if you squat on land for five years it's yours. Many are enterprising and own enough houses to rent them out. All economic classes are represented but financial success doesn't mean they move up and out. They like to stay close to friends and family. It's a social and cultural system.

The first Favella we visited has 60,000 people living in it. It's the largest in Rio. The rulers of the Favellas and the law inside are the drug lords. There are three main gangs and they do clash. They import drugs from the rest of South America, especially Colombia, and sell them so they can buy guns from the U.S. The most popular drugs are marijuana and cocaine. The police are useless inside those areas. In fact the rules of the Favella boil down to "don't mess up where you live." There’s no crime inside the Favella boundaries. They don't want to call the attention of the police. It's a symbiotic relationship where the drug lords offer protection and the people behave themselves and some work for them. Even if not actively supporting the drug czars residents of Favellas give tacit approval to the enterprise by living under their protection. And that's all they get. Its like the Mafia up to a point but these lords give nothing back to the community. The drug lords are all young and most die in their twenties. They use kids as helpers since they won't be jailed if they're under eighteen.

Wages are very low here. Minimum wage is $200/month and teachers get $500/month. Families find they need to send their children out on the streets begging or selling items in order to make ends meet. Schools here have split sessions. Children go either morning or afternoon so have lots of free time. Wealthy families pay for after school activities. Poor families can't. The Favellas try to run day care and after school care with untrained teachers but not many families send their kids.

Some Favellas have banks and clinics. One had a McDonalds that pulled out after a series of bad incidents. The government is starting to give some money for improvements but it’s slow. There's trash pick-up twice a day but you'd never know it from the piles. We stepped over feces (human or animal?) and although they have indoor plumbing, electricity, broadband internet, and running water most is illegally diverted from city utilities. It's a third world city within a city. Most people living there buy on time and are paying off plasma TV's and computers, running shoes and refrigerators. Priorities are interesting.

It’s a really disgusting place not unlike areas of India. I was ready to leave after our first stroll through the tiny alleys. There are few main streets and homes are accessed using stairs up narrow walkways climbing up the hill. Going through the market we looked at CDs and Marina told us they were pirated. We didn't buy. Laura Lee wanted a soccer shirt but Marina was a woman with a mission and it wasn't shopping. She insisted there were none to buy and wouldn't stop when we pointed them out. In fact she really didn't listen to us at all even when it came to safety. The day was very hot and there were lots of steps to climb. At one point we asked if we'd have to come back up again before we went down lots of steps. I told Marina that some of the people on the tour had heart conditions. She said we wouldn't have to come back. Some people would have stayed behind had they known that we were not going to have to climb the steps we just went down but several other flights at the end of a long walk.

The second Favella we went to was much smaller and was not involved in the drug trade although it was under the protection of a neighboring drug lord. It was just more of the same, an endless rabbit warren. I expected the filth and poverty. I didn't expect the complicit relationship with the drug trade.

I think the trip was represented as difficult but Fernando insisted those who wanted could stay with the van. The trouble was that Marina didn't care and kept giving us misleading information about the difficulties that lay ahead. Her tips reflected our dissatisfaction. We were soaked in sweat and dehydrated. The tour ran late and we all had to shower and scrounge in our already packed luggage for clean clothes. We never got to the hippie market. Instead David flopped on the bed in our hotel room Fernando wheedled for us until 3 PM. And I wrote this.

 After showering and re-packing we met in the lobby and let Fernando know how dissatisfied we were with Marina. He was surprised since he'd been on the Favella tour with her and thought she was knowledgeable. He also said he specifically spoke to her about some of our limitations. That wasn't our issue. When we explained it to him and after Laura Lee repeatedly told him "she lied to me" he had us fill out Grand Circle evaluation forms. It would now be reported to the main office in our own words. When we talked to him about our reactions to the Favellas he said that people living there have no other options. Most don't participate in the drug trade but are still co-conspirators by taking advantage of the protection. David suggested that since these slums sat on valuable real estate a developer should go in and offer thirty times the worth of the property and develop away. A German has done just that. He bought up twelve houses and plans to buy more. Eventually he'll tear down the scourge and build high-rises. Where will the people from the Favella live? He has paid them enough to find decent housing in the city?

We walked over to the Fashion Mall for lunch. We'd seen a burger restaurant claiming to have the best in Rio. We didn't know the name but knew it wasn't the McD's. I went to a kiosk and asked if they spoke English. They didn't. I tried Spanish "hamburgueza" but got blank stares. I finally said "hamburger" in English. They pointed me to McD's but when I said no they said "Joe and Leo's segundo." That was it. Fernando joined us later and told me that Portuguese for hamburger is hamburger with a slightly different accent. There's also a different pronunciation for their money, the real. They say it with a French guttural "r." Fernando said most people have trouble with it. I sure didn't with all the "ch" gutturals in Hebrew and Yiddush.

 

 Long Way Home

 We left for the airport at 6 PM. Fernando was with us as well as "the ladies," Jane and Colleen, and Martha, our local guide. As usual Fernando asked if we had our passports and I asked Laura Lee if she had the "white paper" we needed to leave the country. She'd misplaced it once before, found it, but couldn't find it now. At this point she didn't care and was ready to pay the $90 to get out of Brazil. But our check-in at American Airlines zipped along while "the ladies" who were flying Continental were nabbed for an overweight checked bag. After shuffling their belongings they were cleared for security. We said farewell to Fernando as he headed for his flight home to Bariloche. Security was a breeze even though we were going to the U.S. but we couldn't find "the ladies" after we got through. Jane has a knee replacement and was being wanded. Then they saw something in her hand luggage. They took everything out trying to determine what it was and kept sending the bag through xray. We sat helplessly by wishing Fernando could translate since the security person spoke little English. Eventually they came up with a metal nail file and small scissors. Jane said she always carries them aboard and has never been stopped. She also thinks she won't do that anymore.

We took the escalator up to the Duty Free area trying to get rid of reals. We bought four chocolate bars. The escalator down wasn't working so we all had to schlep our roll-aboards down a long flight of steps. It was particularly hard for Jane who also uses a cane. We were in a part of the airport catering to international flights outside of South America. It was abysmal. It was dirty, old, shoddy, and dimly lit. I was sitting there with nothing to do when a young man approached and asked if I would take a survey. I was eager to fill time and agreed. One question was about what I think of the airport. I told him in no uncertain terms. I've seen better in third world countries.

We watched cute babies arrive and one toddler imprinted on my roll-aboard. She chased after it like a gosling trying to catch up. A huge group of teen-agers arrived at the gate area and we were glad to find out they were going to Atlanta and wouldn't be on our flight.

Jan. 26, 2009-U.S.A

We had a nine hour flight starting at 10:30 PM on Jan. 25. We arrived in Miami at 4 AM. When they said we could use our cell phones on landing I wondered who was awake for us to call. We had both taken Ambien and managed to sleep six hours. It was a restless sleep but our personal best on an airplane. The airport was empty and the Air Tran desk didn't open until 6:30 AM so I decided to write while we waited. Laura Lee wandered over to where we were leaving our luggage unattended and made a security person very unhappy. She smoothed things over and avoided arrest. We have a seven hour layover here. Writing took until 6 AM. Only five hours to go.

We finally made our connection to and in Atlanta and landed pretty much on time in the middle of a black and white picture postcard. The Akron-Canton airport and environs was snow laden. The lakes were covered in Snow. The fields were covered in Snow. The houses were covered in Snow. The world was white and covered in SNOW. What had we done coming home to this the land of cold toilet seats?

I'll tell you what we'd done. We were expecting Craig Flury, the Jewish funeral director in Akron, to pick us up. He runs an airport shuttle as a side business. We'd confirmed with him from Atlanta and expected him to meet us. Instead there were two little kids running across the baggage area and leaping into our arms. Vikki had canceled Craig and brought Talia and Rylee as a surprise welcoming committee. What a joy! They were both speaking at once and Rylee proudly told us she was wearing big girl panties all the time and didn't use her binky anymore. Talia was full of news and songs from school and sporting the nubs of two new front teeth. Of course, David cried.

I've done a few loads of laundry and the suitcases are stored. Now we have to deal with the rest of the house. Remember, we had a painter here while we were gone? Most of the stuff was put away by our cleaning help but it will be a while before we find where we stashed everything. We're in no rush. Tomorrow is Tuesday and we'll have Rylee all to ourselves. Then we'll have our usual family get-together for dinner.

We escaped colds, coughs, and stomach woes. Our ten flights were on time and landed intact. Our luggage made it home and we have great memories. We'll re-live it all when we load our photos and tell the tales for years to come. Thank you for letting me share the experience.

Toby

Petropolis

Peter & Family

Typical Architecture

Phone Kiosks

January 24, 2009-History

There's mold as far as the eye can see. We're in the tropics. They're in denial. I asked Martha about the black mold that makes you sick and she said there was none. No way. She did tell us about the 600,000 AIDS patients treated for free. It's a huge problem but at least it's being addressed.

Petropolis, the city of Peter, sits at 2400 feet above sea level and has 500,000 people. It's another world forty miles (1 1/2 hours) away from Rio and that world begins at a bend in the road. We left in rain and mist slogging our way through light weekend traffic heading to clearer cooler air. We passed the usual clutter of trash and clamor of a city and its environs and then Martha said, " It all changes here." And it did. All of a sudden we were in Bali, or was it West Virginia, or Ireland? Unpopulated green hillsides rose and mountain streams tumbled as our less than steady bus made its way. We almost pitched in for a new suspension system.

How did Petropolis come to be? In 1580 Brazil was founded by the Portuguese, sort of. They didn't settle but just removed gems, gold, and silver and shipped it home. In 1808 the Portuguese royals came with 10,000 of their closest and richest friends. In Europe Napoleon was threatening to invade Portugal and eventually did. In 1821 the Portuguese emperor returned to Portugal. He left his son Peter I in charge of Brazil with the real power still coming from Portugal. It wasn't a problem until the king died and Peter I's brother assumed the Portuguese throne. That prompted Peter I to make the trip back to the homeland to kill his brother. Peter had been widowed (rumors are he killed her) and was a real stand-up guy. He left his five year old son, Peter II to fend for himself and be raised by the court in Brazil. Pete II did ok and turned out to be an intellectual who brought modernity to Brazil including the first phone. The question was to whom did he speak? The answer is that the second phone was installed at city hall. He also established Petropolis to get away from the summer heat of Rio and built the first rail line uniting the two cities. He didn't want to see any black faces around so instead of using slaves he hired a German architect to design his summer palace in Petropolis and asked him to bring German artisans to build it. They settled there and the town reflects their influence. His rich friends followed from Rio and helped turn Petropolis into the summer resort it is today. Brazil admits it also attracted some Nazis after WWII but "not as many as Argentina." After all, Brazil was on the side of the Allies.

At age sixteen Peter II became the emperor of Brazil. He married Theresa Christina, a Hapsbourg (weren't they all).  In 1887 his daughter Isabella signed the Golden Law ending slavery. It wasn't out of the kindness of their hearts but they were influenced by England with whom they had close trading relations and England was anti-slavery. By 1889 they saw the handwriting on the wall and with the encouragement of Portugal declared the independence of Brazil. With the freeing of the slaves property owners were angry that their free labor was gone. Taxes paid to the empire and valuables being siphoned off to Portugal were also an issue. It was not a bloody revolution.

A legacy of African slaves is Candoble, an African religion. Slaves were forced into Catholicism but managed to incorporate the saints into their spirit worship. A leader, usually a woman under the influence of two bottles of sugar cane alcohol, channels an entity to help the supplicant. Drumming and dancing is involved and money usually changes hands.

Buildings

We made two stops on the way to P-ville. One was to a crafts stand where Fernando treated us to a hand of what we call finger bananas. Yum! The second was a pit stop at a German bakery selling equally delicious goods. And then we were in Petropolis seeing St. Peter's Cathedral. It was Gothic-big, I was in and out in a heartbeat. We've only seen three on the entire trip but I'd reached my max. I hung around the outside of it long enough to notice that some decorative carving on the steeple resembled Mickey Mouse ears.

The palace is now a museum and what fun that was. We had to wear felt soled slippers to protect the wood and marble floors but they also served to buff the floors as we walked. I thought it was a sneaky way to get free labor. The benefit to me was that I used them as skates and glided and twirled as I went. The palace had a cheerful pink exterior and was authentically furnished. It was grand and, well, palatial.

Lunch was at Chalet Monica, a private home catering to small tour groups. It was the best meal we've had on the trip. There was lace at windows and on the granite-topped tables. The owner cooked and her son served. Neither was young. We started with cheese empanadas that made me salivate and tiny fish croquettes that were fluffy and perfectly flavored. The split pea soup was free of pork as was the entire meal. We could eat with abandon. David almost freaked out when he saw chicken wings. There was beef and all sorts of wonderful vegetables. It was what they did with them that made our taste buds sing. Dessert was flan with an assortment of toppings (mango, kiwi, coconut, pumpkin). Then came homemade Madeleines, a specialty cookie. After we ate we wandered the house walked through the kitchen and out to the garden where they'd grown the ingredients for our lunch.

The Crystal Palace was our next destination. It's set in a park and was a gift from Peter II to Theresa. It was originally a greenhouse but now sits empty and is used for concerts. The modern glass walls contrast with the iron cupola roofline giving it an unbalanced look. It was really ungainly. Laura Lee and Colleen from California couldn't resist singing "Shall We Dance" and twirling around in the echoing interior.

We'd driven through the town when we arrived and I asked Martha if we would have time to walk the streets later. She answered in the negative. Laura Lee told me to ask Fernando. Being a good manipulator I did. He conferred with Martha and they agreed to a stop if we had time. We stopped and Laura Lee, David, and I were the only ones to get off the bus. The rest waited the fifteen minutes until we made the circuit. I almost changed my mind and felt bad about making them wait, but I'd gone to that Cathedral they all loved so now it was their turn. I really wanted to get a closer look at the buildings. They were definitely Portuguese with bright colors and wrought iron fences and balconies. Many looked like they could be in New Orleans French Quarter. There was a shabbiness to them and the crowds were thick with back-to-school shoppers but we got the feel. I'd noticed Katz's Chocolates as we drove through the first time but we didn't walk that far.

We'd lucked out again weather-wise. It rained where we were not. We returned to the hotel and David and I walked two short blocks to the magnificent Fashion Mall. I could shop there the rest of my life. I didn't recognize any of the stores or brands but we'd found where the rich people were. Even the children were dressed for the runway. Most stores boasted branches in Paris, London, and Rio. We did buy something I'd been looking for all over. It was a challenge figuring out size and amount but I enjoyed "una bola" of cafe ice-cream in a "cuppy."

Fernando has been hanging out with older people too much. He experienced a senior moment when searching for a word in English. I forget what word. I guess it's fair if the “moment” is in a foreign language.

We have another farewell banquet tonight and tour the Favellas tomorrow morning. In the afternoon we'll try to get to the hippie market in Ipanema. We leave for the airport at 6 PM and our flight leaves at 10:30PM.  This will be the last email from South America. I had fun.

Toby

Rio de Janeiro

Sugarloaf From Corcovado

Rio From Sugarloaf

Copacabana Beach

 

January 23, 2009-A Little Sugar

Oi tudo bem! (oy too da bane) That's Portuguese for "Hello, how are you." The answer is "tudo bem!" meaning "and how are you?" We particularly like the "oi" part.

For those of you who like flan, you could fall in love with South America. This is the land of flan. It's plentiful and good except for the instant stuff we got at our home hosted meal. We are also celebrating the return of Kleenex in our hotel room as well as washcloths. As those of you who travel abroad know they're not standard even in good hotels.

They use granite here like it was Formica. Not only are the counters in all bathrooms (public or hotel) granite but the end tables at the airport were too. Even our entire bathtub in this hotel is granite. When we were remodeling and went on line to look at stone most of it came from Brazil.

I saw Sugarloaf Mt. three times today. Twice I was wrong. Lots of the mountains resemble its distinctive shape but there's only one genuine Sugarloaf.  The mountains here are formed from volcanic eruptions and are 500 million years old. They’re referred to as "settled" and no earthquakes occur here.

We didn't go to Sugarloaf directly this morning. First we went to Corcovado Mt. to beat the 800 tourists ascending from a cruise ship in port. It's the mountain you see all the time that has the huge statue of Christ the Redeemer with outstretched arms. The statue was built in 1931 and is covered in soapstone which lends it a grayish tone. We rode a two car electric train up the mountain that is actually higher than Sugarloaf. On our descent we saw flames coming from the overhead wire. Not to worry. It was the electric wire serving the nearby Favella (slum). I've never seen wiring actually in flames before. The train ran through a rainforest (the one in the city) and we enjoyed spotting Jack Fruit trees and impatience galore. One sign identified a Thick Tree Garden.

Sometimes it pays to have low expectations. As we climbed we looked down upon the Atlantic, bays, and an in-town lagoon. At the end of the train ride was a ramp and elevator that took us to the pinnacle. We could see Ipanema, Copacabana, and many other beaches (all are public). Favellas alternated with buildings for the elite in a hodge-podge quilt up the hillsides. Unlike at home, suburbia isn’t where the chosen few live. The Botanical Gardens were right below us sitting like an emerald but we will skip it when we have free time. A flower is a flower, etc. We're planning to go to the hippie market in Ipanema instead. We had a 360 degree view and it was incomparable. We also arrived as the clouds and mist parted and the sun came out. It was too early for real heat and there was a breeze off the ocean. Someone in our group has good weather karma. Until now I chose Cape Town as the most beautiful city I'd seen. At several times its size, Rio is a contender.

The third time was the charm. Sugarloaf was in my sites and it was more spectacular than the posters show. Or was it? What was that bulge on top? On no! It was the cable car station. Yes, folks, there's a zit on Sugarloaf. I'm sure it can be photo-shopped out. I snapped and clicked the camera dozens of times until we descended.

Summiting Sugarloaf was more a psychological than actual challenge. We took two cable cars to the top. When they stopped they kept swaying and we had to leap a small gap from swaying car to platform. I'm proud to report that we all made it in style and the last leap taken by Laura Lee was free form. She didn't hold onto the doorpost at all. I have to confess that while we were sardined into the car I took the opportunity to play with the bare toes of a baby being carried in her mother's arms. The mother was clueless and the baby seemed to be enjoying it. I took so many pictures from Sugarloaf that if I put them all together from the two levels I'd be able to open a cyclorama theater.

 

City Side

We took a drive through the city and Martha gave us some background. Ninety percent of the residents of Brazil are Catholic but when they need a miracle many turn to old African religions. We passed an area of Jewish (there are 150,000 in Brazil) and Arab shops in the Sahara Market, a neighborhood specializing in items needed for Carnivale. There are 5,000 samba schools each with it's own costumes and parades. They're like the krewes for Mardi Gras in New Orleans. We could see one of the oldest Favellas in the distance and Martha explained two possible origins. In 1888 freed slaves settled the first ones using any building material they could scrounge. The other theory is that during the war with Paraguay, Brazil sent slaves to fight. After the war the slaves settled the Favallas. We’re finally seeing black faces but they’re not by any means all poor. There’s a strong and mixed middle class here.

On the way to Metropolitan Cathedral Laura Lee asked if I would join her in the back of the bus. I was concerned that she wasn't well and went with her. She'd been twisting her upper body trying to relieve stiffness and her bra came unhooked.  It was only a wardrobe malfunction. She said I could tell you all. There's a definite underwear theme going on. David confessed that even though he was wearing clean undies today he'd put them on backwards.

The Metropolitan Cathedral is truly ugly from outside. Built of concrete in the 70's it’s called the pyramid and holds almost 20,000 people. The inspiration was the Mexican Indians but their pyramids are more impressive. The inside is cavernous, cold, and stark except for four bands of stained glass running from top to bottom on four sides. An unexpected site was the old Portuguese aqueducts. No, Romans weren't here but these unused water carriers closely resemble them. Now a yellow and red trolley rides atop. And what was that smell in the air? It was ethanol. Most cars and buses run on it and the exhaust smells like fermented foliage.

Copacabana Beach was where we ate a lunch fit for carnivores. I attacked the salad bar while others were served beef, sausage, chicken, lamb, and pork sliced from huge rotisserie skewers brought to the table. I was content with hardboiled quail eggs and lovely bread and cheese. Beans and rice are a staple here but the beans are prepared with pork. My loss. Food on this trip has been plentiful if not always to my liking but I haven't felt a need for a larder until today. Fernando told us lunch would be late so I stocked up on cheese and bread from breakfast but there was no need for it. After lunch we walked along the beach and lovely avenues with their wide sidewalks made in distinctive patterns of black and light stone.

There really is a girl from Ipanema about whom the song is written. She was sixteen at the time and is now about sixty and, we were told, still lovely.  Ipanema is only five blocks from Copacabana. We couldn't leave the land of minerals and gems without visiting a jewelry "factory." Their choice was Amsterdam Sauer. Two people bought so it was worth the stop for the store. Next door was H. Stern's home office. H. Stern is international and in almost every airport I've seen. I didn't know that it was started here by a penniless Jew fleeing the Holocaust. His sons and grandsons still run it. We had time to wander the streets of Ipanema and cruise the shops. I bought a banana.

There doesn't seem to be an anti-littering campaign in effect and we watched a little girl drop her popsicle wrapper and stick on the street near a trash container while she and he mother strolled on. But they do try to create a sense of beauty. There's a custom of tying orchids to trees at about six feet off the ground. When they take hold they create a lovely floral display.

Wine Share

Two people had wine left from their winery tour in Chile. They didn't want to tote it home so we all gathered to help them out tonight. Fernando brought the corkscrew. We were surprised he stayed for almost two hours chatting and sharing stories of travel. I asked about the health of the people he's guiding and he said the most extreme case was when he was in the southernmost town in Argentina ready to leave for Antarctica and a woman developed a massive infection in her thumb. The doctor said she needed minor surgery to drain it. Because no medical personal spoke English and she spoke no Spanish he had to go into surgery. He said it was the oddest thing but he talked to her about boxing to distract her. He also didn't want to look.

Fernando told us of an expression here that we consider outdated and offensive in the U.S. In his family he takes after the Spanish side and is dark. As a child playing outdoors he was almost black. His cousins take after the northern Italian side and are blond. They still call him "Negra" (nay grah) when speaking to or about him. It's a common and endearing greeting here.

When the conversation turned to corruption and Haliburton we knew it would soon end. The three Texans jumped on David for disparaging the poor "company that tried to help out in Iraq and has only lost money for their trouble." We ended the evening at the hotel snack bar eating a light meal of bottomless bowls of six varieties of soup. Colleen from California keeps calling it the soup kitchen.

Tomorrow we're going to Petropolis which is out of the city. It's the former summer palace of some emperor of Portugal.

Toby