Years of Poems and Spirits

Song and I went separate tours today: she went to check out the Botanic Garden and me to a tour to the favelas on the south side.

I was really surprised when the tour guide told us that there was such a tour. Although I sensed I’d get a “museumed” version from such a tour, I still couldn’t resist and signed up immediately.

The movie City of God (Cidade de Deus) had a lasting impression on me. It depicted human cruelty in such a full, complete context that, instead of seeing an abstract “sin”, I found such cruelty so “affable”.

The tour was about three hours. It only went to two slums on the south side. Rio had a favela-filled north and the touristy, glamorous side. Just the day before, I read on NYT that violence in the slums killed 19 people. Song was very concerned. But the guide said it happened on the northside, where the favelas are larger, more dense and more hotly contested among rival gangs. On the south, not only the slums are smaller but the lordship has been consolidated. Therefore, they are much safer–not that different from a nation-state perspective.

Another interesting feature is that the slums in the south are so embedded inside rich neigbhorhoods that looking at them side by side reminded me of the “meeting of the rivers” in Manaus. The Sheraton Rio stands right across a patch of slums, for example. And in many places, the hanging cloth lined up right next to crystal-blue swimming pools surrounded by palm trees.

The first favela we visisted is a really small one, about three city blocks in size. It is relatively clean too–if not the streets at least the people in the neighborhood. We stopped at a community center which has computers, mailboxes and a small job agency.

The next one was bigger and more intimidating–until you see tourists mingling with street vendors there. Nevertheless, I was told that Rio police would not go as far as we would. Although the streets are dirty (trucks would come five times a day to haul away collected trash), there is a post-office, a neigbhorhood council (or something to that nature), a private school, a public school and a clinic/hospital–a mini state of some sort. The guide did not know who exactly controls the use of violence and punishment, however.

The interesting part of the visist was the interface between this mini-state to the regular world: there is no United Nation of course but the it is done through the likes of public service entities: post office, energy and utility. There is even a commercial district in this favela (but we didn’t stop to visit) that is filled with banks, dentists and other services. I was told by the guide that most of the professionals manning those businesses live outside of the slums.

To me, the favelas are interesting example of “nations with minimal states”. Had Thomas Hobbes lived today, he’d be most likely to use that as an example in his thesis. But amidst the chaos, there is order, or to be more precise, there is always some kind of balance–but not equilibrium as it would not last very long. For example, many residents got their electricity directly off powerlines on the streets. The web of wires would make the lines totally unmanageable. Every once in a while, there would a power outage, technicians would come in, disconnect all the wires then leave. Then the wires would grow back again–until the next outage I guess.

At the end of the tour, we visited a samba school. Samba is as storied as the NFL if not much more so. The dance is of African origin. That explains why most the performers we saw during the other night were blacks. The samba schools are community (mostly favela ones) based: each has up to 5000 people at times. They all compete during the famed Carnaval: the custome parades would last for two nights (whole-nighters by the way), judged by referees on their music, custome, choreography and performance. Neighborhood pride and bragging rights would go with the prize money given out at the end.

On the other hand, the schools are incredibly loosely organized: almost anyone could attend, as along as he/she owns a set of custome and it fits the theme of the performance. Instead of practicing like school students in China and North Korea, “students” there party all night long a month before the Carnaval until some kind of collective performance emerges. It was sponteneous and festival, all the time, all the way. Sometimes, this all inclusiveness would get in the way though. Our guide told us that one time a heavily favored school lost the competition because it admitted too many tourists who participated with great enthusiasim but little coordinance. The experiement of including tourists ended right there of course.

I was amazed at how casually the Brazilians treated competitions, particularly those in a collective setting. Can you imagine such a thing happens in China or Korea? Even in the U.S., I can’t imagine such a competition remains a street festival, but not a “major league” one. However, when I mentioned that to our guide, he was not flattered. He really should.

We spent about a couple of hours on Copacabana beach before heading to the airport. I didn’t realize how much I have fallen in love with Brazil until the plane left Rio. If I have time, I can probably rationalize the feeling better. But for now, I just feel pretty sad leaving this place.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS