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.

I just can´t escape the guns

So it seems last night was my time to experience guns outside of the favela.  After a lovely meal and drinks out with a friend who offered to treat me and Bea (a friend from the favela) the night came to a disastrous end.

We left my friend to go to the bus stop, the irony being that we were telling him the Portuguese for "help" in case he got attacked.  A few more yards down the road, literally 2 mins from the bus stop where we needed to be, three people approached us.  I was a bit distracted at first as one minute beforehand a bus had driven past through a puddle and pretty much soaked me to the bone but as I looked at these people that had stopped us, I soon realized one was holding a gun.

There were two men and one woman and one of the men held the gun pointing at us and they told us to hand over our money, then they asked for our mobiles.  I´m glad to say that all I had was the equivalent of about 5 pounds - enough to get me and Bea home and I never take my expensive mobile out for the exact reason of what happened last night.  Unfortunately,  Bea had had her pockets searched by the woman as she wasn´t carrying a bag and they took her new mobile.

When I told people today I had been robbed at gun point people were shocked, horrified and telling me to come home.  But, in all honesty I am so used to seeing guns these days that that didn´t really shock or scare me.

Obviously being robbed is frustrating for anyone but what absolutely filled me with rage was the fact that they had taken from Bea who doesn´t have the money to replace things like a new mobile phone.  Bea is 19 and a very special person to me.  She´s not really sure what to do with her life and I am constantly trying to show her that there is more to life than Parada de lucas favela.  I was so pleased she was up for going for dinner and I hated them for spoiling our evening, for taking from someone who doesn´t have a lot and potentially changing her mind about coming to the city in the future.  My other main concern aside from her losing material possessions was what her mum´s reaction to all of this was going to be.  We were already late and I knew that if her mum knew we were robbed she wouldn´t let Bea into the city for a long time.

We ran to the police post  (located on the same road about 2 mins further up) in the hope that if we were quick they would be able to catch them and we could get our stuff back´, but no one was there.  A girl who we had warned in the street not to walk on her own came with us and she phoned the number given.  The police were not prepared to come to us and told us to go to the actual police station.  As this involved going back down the road where we had just been mugged and potentially bumping into the same people we thought it wasn´t worth the hassle.  That, and the fact that our bus was there and we didn´t want to be any later.  Luckily they bus driver let us on for free as neither of us had money to get home at this point.

I was so so angry last night.  Sometimes I feel like I over think things here and worry too much but if anything, last night I was too care free and I learnt that you can´t let your guard down here.  I always carry extra money outside of my purse so I can get home if I am robbed and last night I didn´t.  But hey ho, you learn from your mistakes and I know for the future about the area and about deserted Sundays in the city. And if there is one thing that was also confirmed last night it is that the police in this country really are useless!

Funk and fun in the favela

Well today marks one month since I first arrived here. It was a bit of a shaky start but now I feel fully settled into the favela and already freaking out at the thought that it could all end in December.  I am starting to feel at home here and lately I have had some real fun not just in Rio city centre but also here in Parada de Lucas.

A few weeks ago I was invited to a first birthday party.  1st and 13th birthdays are a big deal here and I heard that people go all out so I was quite interested to go to my first Brazilian party.  I could not get over the effort that was made for this party.  I mean let´s be honest, the kid is not going to remember the event!  Nonetheless, there were three floors of fun to be had.  The first floor had all the made up tables where I pretty much spent most of the evening and was supplied non stop with food and beer (that´s my kind of party).  There was also a DJ and a projector playing kid´s songs and videos.  The second floor consisted of this huge balloon and animal themed montage which was just incredible.  The cake was like a wedding cake and there was a whole cutting the cake moment to be had at the end.  On the third floor they had hired a trampoline, ball pool, swing...you name it they had it type set up.  I mean I just couldn´t get over it.  Apparently Neuza said people just go over the top these days and end up spending thousands of Reais (which I´m sure they must have done as well!)  on their credit cards as people here cannot afford these type of luxuries.  I was shocked at the amount of stuff they had given that the first day I met the birthday boy was when he and his grandma came into the community centre to ask for clothes!

On Saturday we had a party here at CIACAC to celebrate it being open 11 years.  It was lots of fun, if not a bit chaotic.  The night before some friends had come to stay that were going to help with the party so we decided we would check out the favela funk party. Funk not being what most people would think of as funk, but more rap with a beat that could drive you insane! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFeWHuL7BUI.  Please see this link to fully understand what I mean about the beat!

I had been told more or less what to expect in terms of the dancing but I don´t think I was quite prepared for the overall atmosphere and impact.  I´m still processing it all to this day.  It was ´day of the children´ here so the funk party was more for them as the bandidos had thrown a party and were giving out lots of presents.  Kids were coming out of the school grounds where the party was full to the brim with presents! The baile funk as they are called here are parties that are put on every weekend by the bandidos.  This is where they go to have a good time as essentially they are prisoners in the favela.  They have their agreement with the police that they are allowed to continue their drug dealing, but their faces are known and they are not allowed to go outside the boundaries of the favela.  We as foreigners and volunteers can go to these parties but again, the classic rule of don´t stare.  Many people go to these dances and mum´s even take their children.  We got there and I don´t even know where to start with what it was like.  The smell of people smoking weed was potent, the music was obscene and little girls were dancing like strippers or worse and singing these horrendous lyrics.  Not a place in any shape or form for young children....ever.

On Sunday after spending the day inside due to dull English style weather Bea and I decided to go for a walk.  We stumbled upon a free concert of a fairly famous Brazilian artist and a baile funk of the old kind in the sister favela next door.  Old kind being when the lyrics wern´t just pure filth about women but about good music to dance to, so I´m told.  The concert was fun and a woman from the favela next door got talking to me and ended up offering me a beer.  That open Brazilian style I love about people here.  Afterwards we went to a pago-funk which means a live band first and then the horrible funky music.  There were a lot more armed men at this one and at one point a van turned up with about ten armed men in.  I was like I´m sorry are we at war or at a party?

The irony of these baile funky is that you can go there and dance pretty much like a whore but if the bandidos catch you kissing someone, they will tell you off and tell you that that kind of thing is not done here, which is exactly what was done with a previous volunteer.  There are so many teenage mums here as well that again it just all seems a bit ridiculous   It also makes me sick that the bandidos gave out so many presents as if they were good people and helping children when they put them in danger everyday and use children to run errands and start them on this trail of destruction.  It is also ironic that there is a police station within metres of the entrance into the favela but they only appear here to collect their bribe.  I know the day I see the police in the favela is the day I will run home because they are who scare me most within here.





painting hair, gun, surreal

The fun begins...

So I know it´s been a while since I last wrote a post.  That is partly due to my laptop going for a swim in my flooded flat and breaking and also that my weekends have been pretty action packed but now I´m back online and full of stories to tell!

Soooo where to start....second weekend was just what I needed to clear my head form my first week of culture shock.  Elisa and I went to a place called Ilha Grande, an island off the coast of Rio.  I have been there before and I am glad to say that this time I wasn´t rescued by the military!   There was no torrential rain and the sun was shining!

This place is basically like paradise and after a few weeks in the favela I certainly appreciated it.  We went on a trek one day for three hours to get to this beautiful sandy beach.  Obviously a stop at the bar in the middle of the sea was a must.  You basically have to whistle and the guy pulls the rope with the boat attached to take you to the bar.  I had a lovely few days there and felt refreshed for life back in the favela.  I was sure reminded it was life in the favela when I got back as there was a power cut.

Something that was on my list last time I was here but never got the chance to do was go to a boat party.  It was four hours of music, views of the Sugar Loaf, the Cristo and the centre of Rio at night all accompanied by a cold capirinha.  Can´t get a better party than that really can you!?

Another  highlight for me has been the moto tour I did!  I am now obsessed with going on motobikes!  My first time was heading up to see Ana´s house, as she lives at the top of a hill and it is so steep that there are always moto-taxis waiting at the bottom.  I mentioned to a friend that I loved it so at the weekend he took me on a tour to see the project he runs in his favela and then all around Rio.  We went to the Sugar Loaf and climbed Urca to the top, then to a place to see the Cristo, then another view point to see Ipanema.  Sooo mcuh fun!

what doesn´t kill you makes you stronger

Well I´ve been here a good few weeks now and slowly but surely I am starting to settle in.  I am still having a lot of ups and downs - downs including waking up to find my laptop in a pool of water because the flat had flooded from the rain (corregated iron roof not the best).  However, I am starting to get a routine together and constantly trying to look on the positive side of things.  I think now more than ever the saying "What doesn´t kill you makes you stronger is true."  Although at times I find things hard, this is undoubtedly the experience of a lifetime and I try to remind myself of this most days.  I also love this kind of experience because it gives me a different perspective on things and makes me genuinely greatful for the small things in life. Having a mum that woke me up every day and gave me a routine and parents that constantly motivated me to do better is something I now value more than ever...that and a hot power shower!

 Part of my routine now includes going to a church in the next village for gym class in the mornings.  It´s just for an hour with mainly older women but it´s get me up in the morning.  At the end we have to pray which is a bit weird but anyway!  I also have made a friend to practice my not-improving-as-fast as I would like Portuguese.  We walk to the next village speaking in Portuguese and on the way back he gets to practice his English.

I tend to go to Instituto Cervantes on a Friday or Monday as I don´t work then and it is my haven.  Resources, peace and quiet, a fast computer and if I go to the terrace I have a view of the Christo statue - bliss.  At the weekends I try to get out of the favela and explore the city a bit more.  Last week I did a walking tour of the city.  I was trying to find the meeting point and after being giving several different directions I decided to ask a man outside a navy museum.  Turned out he was an admiral and was waiting for some V.I.P to arrive. I asked for directions etc. and after explaining I probably wasn´t going to make it he told me to wait a moment.  He came back and said an official car was going to take me to the meeting point.  Needless to say I travelled in comfort and made it on time!

That is one thing I have to say about Brazilians, they are so willing to help and seem very protective.  I´ve had people give me their numbers or email addresses after 5 mins of speaking to them, saying if I need anything then let them know, as well as people accompanying me to bus stops when I haven´t known where they are.  In a city where I don´t always feel that safe it´s nice to know people are so willing to be kind.

Things that happen in the favela contine to fascinate, surprise and worry me.  Last week in the favela a family cut a tree down that was in front of their house.  As is common to do here they then threw it into the canal (read: sewer).  The canal is the local dustbin it seems.  If you have food left over, rather than throw it in the bin people throw it in the river.  Poeple throw everything in there.  Anyways, it turned out that the "bandidos" as they are called here used this tree to lean on, hide behind etc. at night and they were less than impressed by it being cut down without permission.  They forced the family to go down into the river and fish the tree out as a way of humiliating and punishing them.  I´m just glad I wasn´t there to witness it.

first week finished

Well my first week of life in the favela has come to an end and boy has it been a week of ups and downs. I thought I had settled in relatively easy with Elisa being here to show me round and help me get to grips with life in the community but sometimes I wonder how this experience is going to go. One of the things that is the hardest to get used to here is the fact that there is nothing to do and nowhere to go. If I want to go for a walk it means walking through the favela, by houses, bars and not much else or, I can take the scenic route along the 'canal'...which is basically an open sewer. Yep, that's what is right in front of my house. There is no park, nowhere where you can get some quiet time, nowhere nice to walk to...there is no escape. Everyday I ask myself what the hell people do on a daily basis, no wonder so many are on the streets.

At times this week I have found it all a bit too hard to cope with. The constant noise in the form of shouting, music blaring out from bars, fireworks (or potentially gun shots), planes from the nearby airport is at times unbearable. Teaching went well but not having access to proper materials doesn't help. Trying to cram 13 students into a classroom no bigger than my living room back home in what has been the hottest week of the year (40 degrees in winter) doesn't help. Having a hyperactive child in my class and no way of controlling him because his mother doesn't bother giving him his medication doesn't help.

It's still all a bit surreal in terms of what I see on a daily basis. The amount of guns I have seen this weekend is ridiculous. I asked Neuza if she gets scared when she sees guns or if it has just become one of those things. She said she is there physically, but mentally she goes to another place because she can't believe what she is seeing, it can't possibly be real. I know exactly what she means. We were sat having a beer the other night and a car drove past me with the windows down and in each window was a guy with his gun hanging out. Later at least 3 teenagers walked past with their guns in their hands. It's unbelievable, it really is. The irony of it all is though, is that here is where I am most protected. Here, in theory, no one is going to rob me because I form part of the community - and you don't steal from your own.

I'm hoping to be more positive this week and I am at least starting the week feeling more prepared after a trip to Instituto Cervantes today. I can't even begin to explain how helpful they have been to the volunteers. They have given us free library membership, they let us take books out we wouldn't normally be allowed and they are letting us attend courses for free. Another great thing about the place is the silence in the library. The sweet sound of nothing which I have already come to value.

Tomorrow will tell if I will finally meet the students from class A. I am yet to meet my morning class as for the past week I have been waiting for my students to come and no one has turned up. This is the class that has the lowest attendance. The problem is is that a structured timetable doesn't exist in most houses. Sometimes the mums are already at work and sometimes they just don't bother waking them up which leaves both the volunteers and, on many occasion, the children themselves frustrated.

Successful first day!

Today was my proper day of life in the favela. I was up bright and early and after class Elisa showed me to the nearest supermarket. Walking around the favela I literally felt like I couldn't be further away from Copacobana. All I saw around me were DIY brick houses, noisy traffic, and music blaring out from stalls. To think that beautiful Copacabana where you feel like you are on a film set is in the same city is almost unbelievable.

I had my first classes and they went well. I was a bit nervous about the first class as it's got a reputation as being the naughty class. There were a few names on the board but in general they were fine. In fact, I got my first “I love you” note from one of the girls and a few came up and gave me hugs at the end. That's the kind of thing that reminds me why I am here and makes me smile.

A bit later on after class Elisa and I went for dinner and I had my first sighting of guns. I knew I would see them and be scared but I didn't expect to be less than a metre away from the guy and have him making some clicking noise like he was playing with the trigger! I also expected them to be smaller, discreet, and maybe in a holster. Wrong again. These are big guns that wouldn't come close to fitting in a holster! The narcos know that we are here to help in the community centre and Neuza tells them that we are coming. They allow us to be here but we have been advised not to look at them as obviously they don't know who we are and for all they know we could be police and they don't want us remembering their face type thing. We went to a bar round the corner for a beer and lots of blacked out cars drive past. Including one with the window down and a guy resting his gun out the window. I always knew they would make me nervous but sitting there thinking that if any problems were to occur round the corner, with the kind of guns they had kind of freaked me out a bit.  I've been told I will get used to seeing them, as perverse as that sounds.

Favela firsts

So today my new life in favela PARADA DE LUCAS has begun! Parada is situated in the north of Rio. The south is the rich area where Copacabana is and the north is where there is more poverty. I was originally told there are two types of favelas – the pacified ones where the police have gone in and 'cleaned things up' or the ones that are not pacified and therefore are run by the narcos. My favela is run by narcos. After a conversation with Neuza though, she said that no favela is pacified and all continue to have problems with drugs and guns, only that the pacified ones have a higher police presence. Apparently there is a police presence in Parada once a week/month – in this case they are coming to collect their bribe.

Most of you have seen pictures of where I am staying. The place is more than adequate, although there are some windows missing, but that's only really a problem when it rains. Most people start with a ground floor house and as they save money or as their family grows they build another floor. Three floors is the maximum any house can have. Pretty mcuh as far as the eye can see are these types of houses here.  My classroom is on the second floor and I live on the third floor.

After a long journey (of which most of I slept) I arrived at Rio airport to be greeted by big smiles and open arms from Elisa. I literally couldn't ask for a better person to be here to greet me and show me around. She was accompanied by a girl who will be a future student of mine and we all headed back to the flat together. To say it is hot would be an understatement. You can be sitting still and the sweat is pouring....we are still in winter! Within ten minutes of arriving I was having a beer with Elisa, Neuza (the woman who runs the community centre here), Walter (a guy who runs a project in another favela which I'm going to visit this weekend) and a guy called Paul who is a previous volunteer and funnily enough from Manchester. Within the first few hours I heard and saw fireworks. These are used by the narcos to communicate with each other. It could be anything from a warning about trouble, or to say the police are coming in or simply that they are having a party.

The area was more or less as I expected it to be to be honest. Possibly the stench of the river was worse than anticipated. One thing that has surprised me a lot is the amount of people in the street – at all hours. I had the impression it would be some what of a ghost town maybe because people were scared to go out but there are always people out and about. Unfortunately there are also kids out and about and last night I saw kids that must have been less than 5 years old hanging out on the street.