In the morning we met Zezinho by the beach and he took us in a minibus to the bottom of the favela. We then got mototaxis (moped taxis) to near the top of the hill where there was the most amazing view. At the top of the hill we bumped into a young Brazilian couple that live in Gavea, apparently a rich district in Rio. The guy was saying how he wanted to rent a house in Rocinha near to where we were standing. He said how much he loves Rocinha. Why does everyone who visits love Rocinha is what I wanted to know!
Within about 10 minutes of beginning our walk back down the hill a lady started shouting at us from her rooftop. Zezinho said to us that she was inviting us on to her roof. Of course we went up. When we reached the roof of the two story building the lady, Maria, told us how she was building another floor onto the roof that would have three rooms, on the veranda of the below floor she was going to have a swimming pool. We later learnt that she had paid £30,000 for the house as it was, just two small rooms, it’s certainly not just shacks in the favela!
We ended up spending over three hours at Maria’s house. This is where we learnt the most about the people of the favela. I can however only speak for the people we met, the favela we went to and their side of the story. When we walked into the house there was a little boy sat in a tub full of water in the bathroom. As we sat down Maria’s daughter got him out of the tub and got him dressed. The first thing that struck me was how clean it was inside the house. It was either cleaning day or she cleaned daily. It would only later occur to me that if I was going to have around twenty guests a day I would probably be permanently cleaning too! It smelt lovely, a freshly cleaned house. The daughter who looked about fifteen but we later learnt was actually eighteen brought the little boy in and sat down with us all. Everyone was speaking in Portuguese and shamefully we did not understand a word but Zezinho translated for us. There was another woman there who was the cousin of Maria. Zezinho asked whether the little boy was Maria’s son or her grandson. It turned out he was her grandson, the son of the young looking girl. There is apparently a problem of teen pregnancies in the favela as there is in certain areas of the UK. When Zezinho asked the girl how old she was when she had her son (fifteen) she looked extremely embarrassed. The mother said she had been very naughty doing what she did but we laughed with her as she giggled in embarrassment, shamefully covering her face. We then got into a discussion about how the daughter is still in school and the mother looks after the son. We started talking about the life of people outside the favela and the life in the favela. It is this that I found really important and wish that everyone from our western society could come and in see these people like I did.
During the time we were at Maria’s house five different people came in to visit. Not being able to fully understand the language I wasn’t quite sure who everyone was and why they were there but I pretty much got the jist that they were all family in some form, cousins/daughters etc and they were just there to say hi. Coincidently I am reading Gilda O’Neill’s book Our Street at the moment which is all about the East End Community during the Second World War. My Nan, having grown up just off Brick Lane often talks to me about these times and how every house was an open house and how families always lived minutes walk away from each other if not in the same house. I got the impression that living in the favela is just like this. The lady told us that her grandson may not grow up with the luxuries of life that we in the western world do but he would grow up with a lot of love. Every single visitor that entered the house went and gave Victor Hugo a big hug before they did anything. Now we were only in the house for three hours. Goodness knows how many other visitors would turn up in the time we weren’t there but I imagine it is like this every day for families in the favela. Victor Hugo would grow up with a huge amount of love. If he had a problem there would always be someone there to listen. It wouldn’t be a case of “Later I have to finish this piece of work” as is often the case in the Western World. Now Victor Hugo may not grow up with the opportunities many of us have but I expect he will grow up with far less ‘issues’ than you and I. Victor Hugo at three years old already knew how to use a computer. He would go down to the local internet cafe and msn his friends. He certainly wasn’t suffering in intelligence without the opportunities of the western world!
A big thing that was spoken about was how the people living in the favela work hard but they also play hard. There was huge emphasis on enjoying life. Big parties, spilling into the street every Thursday to Sunday. I really try to encourage many of my clients to think about the work life balance. It is something very important that we seem to have lost in our society today. When I sit with my clients and really make them think, many of them are unhappy with the balance of their life. This does not mean that they work too much, sometimes it has been too little. It is often the case however that the aspects of their life are not balanced correctly.
In the favela everyone was smiling. They were not moaning about their lack of this and that like many of us do in England. Everything they had they wanted for, things they didn’t have they didn’t miss. There was no judging, they didn’t look at someone else and think his house isn’t as big as mine, I am better than him. In western society judging is everywhere. This gets people down. I have clients that come and see me who cannot look at themselves in the mirror. It is not unusual for me to hand a client a mirror, ask them to look into it and find that they can’t. Sometimes it even makes them cry. These people were not born disliking themselves. Sometimes the judging in western societies can create this. There was something I noticed while I was in Maria’s house. My boyfriend and I were sat on the sofa in a position that meant we were the first people anyone walking into the house would see. Two ‘gringos’ sat in the house. If I was sat in a strangers house at home and someone I didn’t know that belonged in the house was to walk in I would instantly feel the need to explain who I was and what I was doing there. Not here, people would just walk through the front door see us and smile. They didn’t know where we came from, why we were there or who we were but they smiled at us as if we should be there. As if we had the right to be there as much as they did. How in this environment could you ever begin to dislike yourself getting so much love from everyone that came near you? At one point later on in the day we walked down a beco (alleyway). There was a family group sat on the step by their house having a drink. They wanted us to sit and drink with them, just because we walked past them. I knew that anyone who walked past would have been invited to sit and share the drink. We had to get on so didn’t but that is the way it was in the favela. Every person we met said “Rocinha welcomes people with open arms” and it really was true. (Maria had also tried to get us to stay and eat with them, we would have loved to but would have been there all day & not seen any more of the favela. We told her we had a meeting so as not to be rude).
Although I appreciate that the favela has its problems. There are the drugs, the violence when the police invade, the struggle that the people face (many favela people do work in normal jobs but minimum wage is around £50 a week) and the problems that a lack of money can cause, for example thieving outside of the favela and careers in the drug trade. If we in the western society can take something from these people it would be the community spirit, the happiness of everyone. No moaning, no negativity. The love that everyone has for one another and the warmth that is felt just walking through groups of people. Unfortunately in our society it is not so easy for our children to be with their parents or close family 24/7 but goodness when I think about the amount of cuddles and kisses that Victor Hugo will receive spending every minute of every day with a close relative or family friend, in fact lots of close relatives or friends showering him with love every second I really wish we could all live in a close nit community like the generation of the early 1900s in our country did and the children of the favela do.
Unfortunately we seem to have got stuck into this society of stress where everything is about getting as many possessions as we can, to have the biggest and the best. We forget that we cannot take these things with us. We forget how the stress of this lifestyle can affect us medically. We get down and depressed. Really we just need to appreciate what we have, running water and electricity all day every day. Most of all we need to start appreciating each other again. We need to stop worrying about the next car or computer that we can buy, take some time out and spend it with our children, our friend’s children, the children of our family etc. We need to spend more time with our friends and our partners just enjoying life and appreciating what we have. Maybe then everyone will be happier, have less worries, less stress and greater health. We need to realise that just because we work x many more hours than our friend or earn y more pounds or have a bigger house than Jim or a bigger car than John it doesn’t make us a better person.
As we were leaving we met a man sat behind the till in a shop. He was reading an English language study book. He told us, in English, that he worked at the Sheraton Hotel as a bar tender. When we left the shop Zezinho told us that the man and his wife own the shop. This man may live in a shack, at the very best he lives in a favela house but he goes off every day to the Sheraton Hotel. When he is not at the hotel he must work in the shop he owns. All the while trying to learn English so that he can speak to the ignorant people like myself who make no effort to understand their language. He probably earns in a year what I earn in a month (maybe a slight exaggeration but you get the point!) instantly judging like a typical westerner I knew that he was the better person! He didn’t think so, to him we were equal. I now understand why so many people who visit love Rocinha and its people.
Me and the very cute, very intelligent three year old Victor HugoI have many more stories to tell about our visit to Rocinha, if you are interested please ask me. I also don’t want to try and create a picture perfect image. There are problems with the favelas and they are far from perfect. The people are not happy with the conditions but they love the community all the same. There were boys with machine guns checking everybody that entered and exited the favela. The minibus we got in is funded by the drug lords. Inside the favela or in the districts close by the drug lords will not accept any violence, theft, abuse etc however there is no punishment for people who thieve from a district further away. But it is the community way and the attitude of the people that I am interested in and think that we can all learn from.
