Neuza and CIACAC

A rather long blog post but pleaseeee read till the end!!

After explaining in a bit more detail about Parada de Lucas (see previous post) I also thought it high time to write in more detail about the work being done by Neuza here at CIACAC (Centro Integrado de Apoio de Criancas e Adolescentes da Comunidade.)

Just last month I helped out with organizing a party as CIACAC celebrated 11 years of being open and helping children within the community of Parada de Lucas.  All these years of keeping children off the streets and providing activities have essentially been thanks to one woman who dedicated her life to helping them ….Neuza Nascimiento.

Neuza decided to make a difference to her community when her 11 year old son said he wanted to go to the baile funk.  I have already mentioned my rather mentally scarring night at the baile funk (see previous post) so I can see exactly why this affected her.  Knowing that this wasn´t a particularly positive environment for kids she didn´t want her son to go alone so knew she would have to go with him, as this is essentially the only source of entertainment for people that live here and has now become a rather important social event.  Whilst there, Neuza realized that more options were needed for the children of the community.

Whilst she knew that it would be impossible to stop people from going to the bailes she decided to start organizing trips out of the favela for the children.  After asking around the community for help she managed to sort out a free bus ride and a place that would give free food in order to provide lunch.  The first excursion consisted of 8 children, by the fourth there were 45.  At this point Neuza was still working so these trips were something she organized for Sundays.  She recognized that there was a lack of education in these children so told them that after each trip they had to write a short essay about what they had and hadn´t liked.  Those that couldn´t write were to draw a picture. 

Neuza then started to develop her ideas and activities with the kids and began holding workshops for them.  At this point the centre didn´t exist so the workshops were held in her small house.  Later, she was able to rent out a space within the favela which was given for free, however, when another NGO came into the favela (one which had more money needless to say) Neuza was kicked out. 

In 2008 Neuza was made redundant from her job and consequently was given a sum of money.  Unselfishly, she used this money to officially create CIACAC and dedicated herself only to this cause.  She began teaching classes in the morning and the evening.  Eventually she was also able to change the structure of her house in order to create a bigger space due to a donation of 11,000 reais (about 5,000 pounds) from an Italian girl that had managed to fund raise for her, and thus, the community centre was created.

Through other donations the centre now has three floors.  The first floor is where the guitar classes are held.  The second floor is where a classroom was created and is where I teach.  It is also where Neuza´s small flat is.  Just to highlight how much she has given up for this centre – she has her living room which is essentially her office and her bedroom-come- living room which she shares with her son as she gave up the other bedroom in order to create the classroom.  I don´t think there are many of us that would give up both our lives and our houses, but she has.  On the third floor is where over the past few years the accommodation for volunteers has been created.  Although volunteers have been coming to CIACAC for many years now, myself and the other 2 girls that have been part of the Spanish project are the first people to actually live and work in the community.  Whilst the flat has been perfectly fine for me it is by no means finished.  The iron roof has not been made properly therefore when it rains it leaks.  There is no window in the kitchen meaning for the past few weeks I have had a new pet which entered through this gap in the form of a rat (!!) living with me.  The list goes on in order to make this a properly functioning accommodation and for that donations are desperately needed.

I asked Neuza how she survives given that she hasn´t worked outside of CIACAC properly now for years, her answer -  “pequenos milagros” – small miracles.  When she first started the excursions she was working as a house maid, then she started ironing clothes whilst giving classes.  Now she does the odd transcript and receives donations from volunteers or payment for the accommodation, which all allows the doors of the centre to stay open.  She doesn’t allow herself luxuries and her clothes are often donations left behind by volunteers.

When I asked Neuza why she dedicates her life to CIACAC she said she doesn´t know.  She acknowledges that she is not the most maternal of people but she recognizes the need for such a centre in the community and she can´t just give up what she has created here.  I often genuinely wonder how she does it.  How she manages to keep afloat.  This month alone I have seen how difficult things have been for her when she doesn´t have the money, and in fact, this year there won´t be a Christmas party for the kids due to a lack of funds.  Whilst we could ask each child to bring something to eat, many can´t afford this so she has decided it is best not to have one.

Another project in the pipe line is to get Neuza over to Spain.  She has never left the country and currently she is daring to dream about getting there.  She has already been invited to be on Spanish radio and she has meeting with NGOs lined up in order to secure more volunteers.  She is asking all previous volunteers for donations of 15 euros but I fear it might not be enough.

As I have mentioned the flat desperately needs a window, Neuza also wants to recruit a psychologist and a professional who can give after school help. Today the washing machine broke and it seems my fridge might be kaput.  I feel so helpless as the list seems to be increasing and therefore the cost. If anyone is interested in donating some money (a little goes a long way here) then pleaseeeee let me know.  It really will make a difference.  Clothes, computers and guitars are all accepted as well.  This centre really does make a difference in the lives of the children here.

http://www.ciacac.org/apresentacao.php

Parada de Lucas

In order to fully understand the importance of the centre where I work, I think it is necessary to know more about the reality of the situation here in Parada de Lucas.

Ahhh Rio de Janeiro, a cidade marhavilhosa, a place that most people associate with beautiful beaches, caipirinhas and carnaval.  Whilst this side of Rio clearly exists, there also exists another side to this city, a more gritty, dark side which I have had the opportunity to experience – life in a non-pacified favela.

In Rio de Janeiro there are an estimated 1,000 favelas. Whilst there is a pacification programme in place by the government, as of today only about 18 are actually pacified.   Parada de Lucas is situated in the north of the city (Copacabana is South zone) and for many years now it has been run by armed gangs.  Whilst currently Lucas has a ´sister favela ‘ relationship with Vigario Geral, the favela next door, in the past these two neighbourhoods were at war, with devastating consequences for the community.

I have been to the dividing line (which happens to be where there is a school) and I just can´t get over the fact that they were at war.  There is no line, no wall, no border and therefore no protection to hide behind.  If you lived on one side then it was forbidden to cross over to the other side, for residents of Lucas this meant that access to a health centre was impossible as it was in the neighbouring favela.   Whilst drugs are still being dealt here which is what gives the bandidos their jobs and status here, 15 years ago you couldn´t move for the amount of people in the favela buying, selling and consuming.  Violence was also even more open than it is today and Neuza told me that it wasn´t uncommon to see a bandido with a wheel barrow carting a dead body to where I usually take the rubbish to.  Or, sometimes even someone alive with their head covered pleading to know what exactly they had done.  She told me a story of her son having nightmares when he was kid as although he hadn´t seen the bandido kill it´s victim (as everyone had been ordered inside their houses), her son had still heard the way they had killed him.  Unimaginable.

The war with Vigario Geral ended when Tercero Comando beat Comando Vermelho and managed to take over.  Whilst things are more or less stable here, people know that there is always a risk that the losing fraction will try to win back it´s territory (which then has repercussions for Parada de Lucas).  In fact, this happened a few weeks ago when I couldn´t come home one night as I was in the city and something was occurring in Vigario.  My friend called me and told me it was best not to run the risk of arriving in Lucas at night.  The next day many kids didn’t come to class as their mum´s were still nervous about the situation in the street.  This is the reality that many families live in.  Furthermore, just on the other side of the motorway where I get the bus from lies Cidade Alta.  They continue to be enemies and again going over to the other side is a risk. 

The bandidos control the favela and the machine guns they carry demand our respect.  To enter into the community by car it is necessary to move the tree trunks that are placed in the middle of the road to stop just anybody driving in. You also most drive with the window down or without a helmet if you are on a motorbike.   If you are not someone they recognize or aren´t with someone from inside the favela, you will most likely be stopped at gun point.  They have their rules which must be obeyed.  One example is if you are caught fighting then you will be made an example of – in the case of girls this involves probably being hit by the bandidos and then having their hair shaved off. Another rule is that you don´t steal from your own.   Nobody robs within the community – the consequences could be anything from losing a hand to being shot dead.  Don´t be fooled into thinking that this is due to a ´sense of community´ alone, no, the bandidos don´t want any problems with people calling the police to report things like that.

Describing Parada de Lucas in general terms most children tend to go to school, well, those that are lucky enough to have parents that encourage them to go.  The other day I went to an internet café to find two of my students hadn´t gone to school, but instead were spending the day playing computer games.  Teenage pregnancy is very common here as well.  It is also common for kids to have bread and fizzy drinks for breakfast as some families cannot afford to feed their children three whole meals a day.  The fizzy pop provides sugar for energy and the gas fills a space in the stomach that parents cannot afford with food.

“Living in a favela is an art, nobody robs, nobody hears, nothing is lost, those who are wise obey those who give orders.”

lost for words

Today I can´t stop thinking about what I saw last night.

I am still in shock.

Last night driving back in a combi van to Parada de Lucas we drove past two dead bodies lying in the street.  I hadn´t seem them at first but one of the passengers was shouting to the driver to warn him and to tell him to drive faster.

I couldn´t believe it, I still can´t.

At first I thought no, maybe they are just asleep.  I know that sounds childish and was probably my way of coping with the reality I was faced with, but I can´t tell you the amount of times I have seen people sleeping rough, randomly in the middle of the pavement.

I think what shocks me the most is people´s reactions, or more, lack of reaction.  They are so used to death, violence, gangs and guns that I feel like they don´t even blink when they see something like this.  I said this to Bea´s God father who thank God was accompanying us home after the ceremony.    He said to me that this is the reality that they live in, that they know that this is always a risk.  Hell, I know it is always a risk but it doesn´t mean it doesn´t shock the hell out of me when I do see it.

I am also starting to understand more and more why people here don´t leave Parada de Lucas.  Here things are controlled and  Bea and her God father told me they wouldn´t see something like that where we live.  Where we saw the body was part of another town nearby but there it´s like no mans land it seems.

 I have always had a special love for Brazil but I can´t deny that I am seeing the worst side of this country.   The gritty, harsh, violent reality that so many live in and are unable to escape from.

Candomblé Ceremony

Last night I had my first encounter with the Candomblé religion and it was like nothing I had ever seen before!

Candomblé is very popular in Brazil, particularly in the north of Brazil in Bahia.  It is based on African traditions that slaves brought over when they were shipped to Brazil.  From what I understand as there is no concept of good or bad it is not always used in a positive way.

I was invited to this ceremony because Neuza, the director of CIACAC where I work was celebrating 7 years following this religion.  When you complete 3 and 7 years there is a special ceremony and party.  In true Brazilian style it consisted of music, dancing and eating!

I wasn´t quite sure what to expect about this ceremony.  I had been told people go into trances and I suppose although I was trying to go with an open mind and was interested to see what happened I was imagining very dramatic scenes of people being possessed.  I am glad to say it wasn`t like that.

We got there at 6pm and had to wait around for a while.  Neuza had been at the centre for a week now doing a sort of retreat and we still wern´t allowed to see her but we knew she was in this little hut where people were dressing her and preparing her for the ceremony.

There were various parts to the ceremony including four costume changes. The whole act accompanied by the loud beat of drums and people dancing and singing in traditional dress.   Each interval for a costume change was also a food and drink break so obviously I was kept happy.   At various times the music got more intense and people started going into trances.  I was getting slightly nervous by the guy who was sat near me going into a trance and seeing his eyes rolling in the back of his head!  Those who went into trances were then led outside.  Unfortunately I couldn´t go out to see how they brought them back to reality.

At the end of the ceremony everybody had to congratulate Neuza and then there was cake and at midnight we finally had dinner!  Neuza will now stay a few more days at the centre and there are various things she can and can´t do.  I must say hats off to the participants as they danced and sang for literally hours including a few children!

Genuinely a very enjoyable and interesting night as it was something I wouldn´t normally get the chance to experience but I think I am still a cynic about the trances. I will be curious to ask Neuza about that one....

love hate relationship

Yesterday I had a love hate relationship with Rio. 


One cant deny the beauty of this city and the kindness of its people, but after a trip to the city police station last night I felt like nothing more than jumping on a plane home.

After days and various trips we finally sorted out all the paperwork needed for Bea´s insurance and headed to the police station to report the incident.  We were sat waiting for over an hour and the people coming in all had depressing stories; a young student who had had been robbed at gun point, another man who had been robbed at gun point in broad daylight outside the airport, another man who had been forced at gun point to draw money out of his account etc. etc. These were the just the victims. I then saw three young adolescents brought in and one cop shout to the other if they had the bags of cocaine. These boys were no more than 16 years old. 

Then came the interview.  The man treated me like I was a complete idiot. He asked Bea if I speak Portuguese to which I myself replied yes, yet he continued to ask her questions about me...even though I continued to answer them! He then, upon inspecting my drivers license, started questioning me with a tone that was really starting to irritate me about if I was a member of the church and if my drivers license was in fact not official I.D but church I.d.   I was almost laughing at how ridiculous these questions were when he said, as though he had full proof I was a liar...well why does it say "miss" here then? Whilst this imbecile had clearly thought it was miss for missionary I explained it was in actual fact because I am yet to find the Spaniard of my dreams to marry. Ok,, well maybe not in those exact words.

We were made to look through a book full of suspects with words like 'homicide', bank robbery´, mugging´ all written on them. I felt sick looking at it. So many very young faces. I also felt sick when Bea explained about the tissue incident and the policeman´s reaction of "Jesus" making me thank God once more.
Nearly three hours later we finally left.  I had plans to meet friends but I just didn't have any desire to party, I just wanted to go home. This was further reinforced when we were walking to a place nearby and got scared to walk down a road as there looked to be a few dodgy people. This nervousness was added to even more when we asked someone for directions and he said you can go that way but it´s a bit dangerous. I know Rio is dangerous in general but when someone specifically says that way is a bit dangerous its a risk I'd rather not take. We gave up and just got the bus home.  The whole way I couldn´t help feeling how I both love and hate this city.

Today I plan to go to the city to rekindle my love and get over my fear. I don´t want to be scared of this place and I want to enjoy the time I have here.   I also recognize that being in that police station was like being in a hospital - being confronted with things you wouldn't t normally be as conscious of.  I want to believe that the other night was just wrong place, wrong time.

near death over.... tissues!!!??

So today I found out I hadn´t quite been fully aware of what happened the other night when I was robbed - clearly reflecting my not so hot Portuguese listening skills.

Apparently when we were robbed the other night I hadn´t heard the guy say "mobile" straight away and I had only handed over the money.  This looked like I was trying to avoid giving them what they wanted.  After they had taken our money and mobiles they started walking and at the same time as I fiddled with my bag a packet of tissues fell out.  I could see that the three people were looking our way and I got nervous thinking they were going to think that I had hidden something valuable, so shouted "it´s just a packet of tissues."  Looking back my tone probably wasn´t appropriate for the situation, as it was more of a, "they´re just tissues - are you going to take them away from me as well?!"  sort of tone.

It was apparently at this point that my friend wanted to kill me herself for speaking to them like that and also when the three of them turned around and the one with the gun asked his friends "can I shoot her?"  It must have been my lucky night because his friends said no and they carried on walking.  I know people have killed over less.

After the whole incident I was fairly calm about it all as as I said before, at the time it was non violent but after my friend told me this I was in a shock for a while.   I spent the day feeling guilty at what must have been going through Bea´s mind at this point and the fact that I was rather oblivious to it all and the potential danger I was putting us in.  Everyday I learn something here either about myself or the environment and today´s lesson was - in this kind of situation, you give them what they want and you keep your mouth shut.

the nicest people in the world

If there is one thing that has really struck me whilst being here in Brazil, it is the kindness and friendliness that I have been shown by Brazilian people.  I have already mentioned it briefly in previous blogs but this weekend it was all confirmed to me once more when I met the nicest couple ever.  Fact.

I was invited to a churrasco - a typically Brazilian barbecue on Saturday night in the favela with Ana, a previous volunteer and another friend Jose.  We were there several hours eating and drinking and got talking to a couple that live in the favela.  We spent all night chatting to them and then when the barbecue ended we walked home with them and they couldn´t resit inviting us in to their home.  We stayed for a bit and in such a short space of time I already felt unbelievable warmth for this couple.  As we were leaving they suggested we go for breakfast at their house in the morning.  We offered to each bring something with us because we are all aware that inviting four people for food is an expense for anyone, never mind here,  but they almost looked offended.

We turned up bright and early in the morning and we were offered a feast.  These people knew us from nothing and yet they treated us with such kindness.  They were telling us about how it´s hard to be parents in the favela and you have to keep an eye on your kids at all time because otherwise they can get mixed up in drugs, guns and teenage pregnancies - all big problems here.  They had also tried to assist several family members who were struggling to raise their children and it seems they run a bit of an open house - always trying to help.

We were given a tour of the house and the upstairs was built by the husband himself.  He said he used to get home at 8pm from work and build until 1 am.  It must have been a hell of a job but you could see how proud he was of the work he had done and the home they had created.  They were just such humble, lovely people.

I have been invited to go round whenever I like and I certainly won´t pass on an opportunity to see them again.  Ivone says she´s going to learn about the world through us as we are all from different countries.  I genuinely feel very lucky in the sense that wherever I seem to go in the world I meet absolutely lovely people and they are just another example of this.