fresh n juicy chunks of oyster :: RTW travel blog

Lately my traveling feet have started itching uncontrollably again (yes, I do shower daily!). Actually the feeling is more like a tickling somewhere behind my stomach, probably the nibbling of the peckish eel that is a winding and slithering cohabitee of my innards. It's sharing that space with my many other inner organs including my liver which has lately been heavily punished for what must have been the sins of its past lives.
The nightlife in Rio is great, every night of the week there's somewhere fun to go till the break of dawn. The last few nights I've tended the Gringo-connection, however, which has landed us in English and Irish pubs where weirdly all the Brasilians speak near-perfect English (still working out whether they all go there to practice their language skills or to hit on Gringo/as).
So, the restless eel in my guts has been hungering and nibbling away this time and to appease it I started doing more active things since yesterday instead of just being passively entertained (partly to blame was the weather of course as it had been raining and grey until then - and as I write it has started again...). I went up on the Pão de Açúcar (Sugarloaf mountain) so I could cross it off my proverbial list and was pleasantly surprised and granted a sudden insight into what makes Rio so special. Up from above the city rests like a giant, sprawled-out starfish, its arms reaching into the Atlantic and creating beautiful, mile-long beaches wherever land and water meet. The beaches are separated where a starfish's armpits would be by chunky, wooded rock formations (like the Sugarloaf) which rise between the jungles of skyscrapers and look as though they have been strategically placed by God to separate the various centres of Rio (presumably when, as they say here, He dedicated His 7th day to the city's creation). Possibly He also had the city's poor in mind with these geological features as clinging to the hills are the impossible constructions of the favelas, Brasil's 'slums', right next to the most expensive neighbourhoods and hotels - and with the best views of the city!
Rio feels slightly unreal and quite perfect from several hundred metres above. And it feels spoilt - how many other metropolis' are there where most of the centres are a mere few minutes walk from one gorgeous beach or another? No wonder most Cariocas (Rio's locals) seem so happy and friendly. Even - or maybe paradoxically, especially - those living in the favelas.
That's where I went today on a guided tour (I won't go into the debate some tourists like to have of whether it's exploitative or not and just settle the case arrogantly by saying that it's not! ;). Favelas are cities within cities housing in total some 1.5m people in Rio. They are tight knit communities with almost all amenities but mostly dirt-poor and with most people living in squalor (the rent is cheap though!). Drug trafficking rules supreme there and the police are twice as bad as the dealers. Few roads exist and the rest of human traffic moves through labyrinthine, tiny alleyways, snaking between houses stacked on top and below of each other at impossible angles and places. The infamous violence erupts when the police and the drug lords in turn try to assert their sovereignty over the favela which as a matter of everyday fact lies firmly with the latter. It is a crazy place but the people there make it amazing. The number of community, NGO and charity projects trying to better the situation of the places are incredible. Many are starting with the kids by attempting to get them educated and off the streets.
And I felt like I was back in Bahia (the state up North with Salvador) where seemingly anyone in the street gives you a smile and returns your thumbs-up or ridiculously elaborate handshakes. It's another world and also unfortunately the one which apparently most Brasilians can only associate with violence and will never dare see with their own eyes, thanks to the constant dutiful brainwashing by the media here (sound familiar?).
Finishing off today I stumbled off the street and into a free concert paying homage to a Brasilian music legend, Ary Barroso (I'd never heard of him either :). It ended up being a mix of Samba, Barbershop Quintet, Jazz and stand-up comedy (most of which went right over my linguistically-challenged head). The great thing was that most of the audience where at least three times my age but they were tearing up the stands, clapping, singing and Samba-ing as you'd only expect pensioners back at home to do after their eighth drink on their annual New Year's Bingo night.
As I've said before, they all know how to party and live in this country!
Meanwhile, the eel inside me still longs to hit the road again (or a favela!). Let's hope no-one gets hurt.

[google for "broccoli eel" for some good reading... if you have a couple of minutes that is...]