The girl from Ipanema….. she really exists. And she has multiplied, there are so many copies of her.. wow! As I am sipping on a caipirinha on a beach bar, I hear Stevie Wonder's ''Isn't she lovely?'', which is definitely made for the girls around Ipanema. Okay, there are some heavy pregnant looking people walking around, as well as some very bad looking transsexuals, drag queens and so on.

Boa tarde a todos!

I just came back from ten days in Rio de Janeiro, just to relax and some more as you are used of me. Everywhere people are playing ´futvolley´ on the beaches, girls are practising for the next Olympics for the volleyball competition. There are like a zillion youngsters playing the 'matching' game on the beach, hey guys how about school? Well the sytems here works different from what we´re used of, you go to school only in the morning or in the afternoon. Leaving the poor kids on the streets playing a different ballgame, namely the druggame, kids under 12 years cannot be sent to court or whatever, so the big drugguys use them for drugtrafficking, not a good thing if you know there are over 500.000 poor kids on the streets of Rio.

The streets of Rio..... It's amazing to walk there, the life on the streets. It's easy to recognize that black people are still in de lower positions in the society, that the rich people don't give much damn about the really poor, and that this city is ready for a big swipe. If you take a local bus, you will almost get carsick of all the hills, tunnels, speedways and traffic jammed streets where people try to ride as close as possible to each other not taking the normal walking people into consideration. Taxi drivers are as wherever in the world the worst kind of drivers of all. First they drive like maniacs, but furthermore they don't know the way to any place except the major tourist attractions. When I took a taxi at midnight from the airport to the area called Catete, somewhere downtown, my taxi driver had to step out like ten times, asking the way to the most dungy looking people you can imagine. I just closed my door to avoid any direct interaction with a local drunk. The typical Carioca (= inhabitant of Rio) is a person who first is looking with some dislike towards you as being a person from a richer world, but …… if you ask or say something, smile or wave at them, or whatever, it's a whole different world, not comparable with any other city where I have so far. People tell you what you need to know with so much enthusiasm and a smile back is always an honest one. And a smile is easy to get in this city, if only the language wasn't so difficult… I keep apologising if I only can make myself being understood in Spanish. Gracias eeeh no…. Obrigado. But then again, half of the city starts drinking beer (0,50 Euro) or Caipirinhas (1 Euro) on 9 a.m., so they don't care anymore pretty early in the day.

Before I went to Rio people are almost scaring me about how dangerous the city is and much blabla. I went there with only the obvious thought to take the necessary precautions: I bought a cheap plastic watch, left my valuables always in my hotel, and did not walk around with my camera high in the air swinging. I didn't come into a dangerous situation or hear any stories of tourists getting robbed when I was there, but one time I thought I was being followed... thought.

I turned around he looked away. I walked on, he walked on as well. This went on for about three blocks. Then I turned around and passed him by, and looked him in the eye. He looked back for a short time and then stopped walking. I went back to the crowd of Avenida de NS Copacabana.

Of course Rio has its fair share of beggars. Mostly for the money, I don't do that anymore, especially kids in Rio. The money they get goes straight to the drug bosses, according to some locals who made this clear to me. So to get what kids or any beggar wants and / or needs, I made a habit of asking a doggy bag for the leftovers of dinners and lunches and give it to any street person I meet on my way to the next drinking place. This seems to be a thing that many backpackers are doing now.

In day time its really obvious that on the streets of Rio its one big samba. I mean in terms of traffic samba, how smoothly it all fits without horning or whatever left-right-left-right. But the real samba comes to life in the suburbs of Rio, the favelas. The favelas, they are built next to most exclusive parts of Rio, I mean the Hilton hotel is really next door. On the mountain slopes forming huge cities on their own according the amount of people who live. In Rio there are supposed to be more than 600 of these containing about 20% of Rio population, which is currently approx. 6.5 Mio. In Rocinha there are about 300.000 people jampacked on eachother. The streets are impossible to get your bike on, only small narrow stairway streets, where it's sometimes impossible to pass eachother, and every street is going steep up or down, so don't think about driving up there is possible. So you can image how the materials of the houses, mainly bricks and wood, are being carried up for those who live on the top. Beforehand I was warned, yet again, to be very careful of whom to take a picture of, because there would be so many drug talks going on. Well, hmmm, the kids loved to be photographed. On one of the squares of Rocinha, the person who guided me there ordered (really) to put my camera in my bag. This is the drug area, where many spotters are just standing. Well all I could see was a few old people who hardly could walk, or some middle aged persons who were just standing and/or smoking something. But after one gaze of my eyes to them I just got a smile back..... My opinion of Rocinha, is that it isn't as poor as I imagined, of course I have just seen a small part of it. And I also know that it's not to be compared with the slumbs located on the city edges, nearing the international airport e.g..

Most of the samba schools in Rio are located in these favelas. During the carnival all the sambaschools are in a competition who performs the best samba. Last year the honour went to Manqueira, so I went there to see what's going on at a regular Saturday night rehearsal. Well, this rehearsal has more to do with how many drinks you can stand, well okay some are really trying to practise. The evening starts at 11.00 PM with a Buena Vista Social Club alike band upstairs from the main dance floor, the first people are starting to move, mainly the older woman, some young girls of three already moving to the beats like professionals, or the really early drunk people. Non-alcoholic drinks are not being served to anybody older than 18 years. I haven't seen any adult not being drunk, only some sober kids running around. Everybody is somewhat moving to the beat of a drum band of at least 40 instruments in a way or speed their (state of) body actually allows them to. But the floors are shaking that's for sure. Everybody forgets this evening that they are living in one of the poorer neighbourhoods of Rio. Probably they don't care at all, because their school will deliver the Queen for the Carnival, somewhere in March 2003. When she came in somewhere in the early night, everybody moves to the sides of the room and just admires her, some for her way of dancing, some for her face or body…. She leads the parade inside the big hall of the danceschool, soon followed by hundreds of heavy sweating people, so the circle is complete pretty soon. Everybody is acting accords to the principle : act crazy, that's normal enough! Then the rain breaks down, proving that the roof is not waterproof, nobody cares!

On my first day in Rio, I didn't feel to well, only took a small walk through my hotel neighbourhood. The first interaction with any local on the street was a woman grabbing my arm, really fiercely, trying to convince to come to her sambaschool, and if not if I please could help with a contribution for her dress. Hmmmmmm. The next day I moved to Copacabana, there were the action is. I found I think one of the cheaper guest houses, only 25US$ (hallelujah!), but hey this is the world's most famous beach area. In the afternoon I went with a French streetperformer, who was convinced that the Dutch are the worst paying spectators, to Corcovado. Firstly, a bustrip of over 1 hour right through the city and then a bit uphill to the neighbourhood of Cosmo Velho. A little train brought my to the top of the mountain which is so famous for one of the world's largest statues of Christ, the redeemer. But more interesting for me is watching the amazing views all over the bays of Rio de Janeiro and the jungle which begins right behind the statue. Then I meet up with Caetano, a carioca (Yuri's friend) with whom I would only have a few beers. It turned out a bit otherwise. I first meet him, with his girl and mother on top of Pao de Acucar, a real big limestone just jumping out of the water in front of the neighbourhoods Urca, Botafogo and Flamengo. The top is reached by two cablecars but once on top you have a clear view all over the city of Rio, all the beach areas, all the mountains which just are in the middle of the town. It's not for nothing that they call Rio, el cidade marvelosa. I got on top right before the sunset, so I could witness the city and mountains being set on fire where only the statue of Christ the Redeemer on top of Corcovado can escape this repainting of the sight. After that we drop off her mother and meet up with Leandro, a close friend of Caetano, with him came Nena, a Venezuelan gorgeous. So including Rosanna, who never drinks, 4 people started drinking the Rio-way until the early hours. Well it's just like they way the do the samba, at least two times the maximum speed allowed in Amsterdam. With the alcohol flowing smoothly inside, the tension rises between the latinos. Thank god not in terms of fighting or whatever, but they free their mind about anything. So heavy discussions together with nice fitting bodily expressions. A nice spectacle to watch, while hearing the waves breaking down on Praia do Leme. Mais umo? Yes sure! And always one thumb up!

Going to the Maracana stadium (it's said that it's the biggest in the world, I am not sure of the one in Buenos Aires) for the match between Rio's Fluminense against Sao Paulo's Sao Caetano is also a way of participation in this crazy life. 80.000 hold plastic whistles which are being used at any time during the match when the opponent (Sao Caetano) has the ball. An enormous noise. The soccer songs are sung by everybody in the stadium, even the most little girl of three four years knows any lines and sings along with full enthusiasm. And when the goals are made, the whole stadium (a whole concrete one) is shaking. One big moving crowd, up and down, with a cheer that lasts for at least 5 minutes. Oh yes, Romario de Souza Faria, who used to be playing for PSV Eindhoven (prutsers!) has not changed at all. Still being a lazy ass, just waiting for the ball to be deliverd by mail to him. But three times the package arrived and three times he sends it on, making it three goals from teammates. After the match I went with Leandro and some other cariocas to Rosanna place for a balcony BBQ and of course the beers came. I think there were about 15 young cariocas (aged between 25 en 30), but it is very clear to me that the people are so much open minded. Within a minute I felt totally at ease, anybody starts talking with anybody, having little beer contests, the for some persons necessary open air showers. The party one went a little grim for me when one the cariocas put a needle in his leg, containing a drug which blew him away a bit. Never for me!

A man should always face his fears, so I went hanggliding (in Dutch: deltavliegen). A car picks me up in the morning, for a drive towards Praia do Pepino and then up the mountain. As we got on top I could only see fog, but my instructor tells me that after the necessary lessons the fog is gone and we go……. Well the lesson is nothing more than running along with the instructor, holding on to two little ropes attached to his suit. Then it's time to go to the place from where we would jump off, a wooden runway after which nothingness comes. My nerves are shaking. I put my suit on and take in the right location. We stand there, waiting, waiting, waiting for the fog to go away and the beach to show itself, so my instructors knows where he needs to go. My nerves are shaking harder by the minutes we have to wait, this lasts for about twenty minutes, only being able to look at the nothingness right ahead of me. Just I stand some more people are making themselves ready to jump, why do I have to go first, I wonder. The mobiles are ringing every know then, making communication possible with the people down below, giving weather updates. Then the final call comes, my instructors tells me to put my hands in the proper positions. "Oke, you know: 1, 2, 3 and never stop running and don't jump!" So there we go. Running towards were the wooden runway ends……. Just run boy! Nothing can happen! And off I go, first the wind takes us up for a bit and then the instructors is looking for a place out of the fog. The speed at first feels high. But soon, I find myself floating to the air, seeing the jungle, the ocean, the bays, the skyscrapers (oops, we're going to low, and very smoothly the instructors send us back up a bity) behind the beach. With the descend I am figuring out what I should do with the landing, start running again. But the instructor put us down on the sand, like a badminton shuttle. Time for a beer, it's already going to the higher 30's in terms of celsius degrees.

I made a day trip to mountain place called Petropolis in search of a cooler temperature. Well I got it plus as a bonus some nice rain on my head. I had one goal there to get to the statue of Trono de Fatima... it seemed hard to find. I asked about ten people for the way in some small sidestreets. But all I got was a beautiful smile, a twinkle in the eyes and two minutes of walking direction in Portuguese. and let me tell, its way different from Spanish. People can understand my poor Spanish, but to understand the rapido spoken Portuguese is impossible, well at least most of it. Well after half an hour I found another woman and she showed me the way for about fifteen minutes walking in the rain, she pointed out the road to walk : from here straight on she pointed and then up the hill. Okay, it took another 45 minutes but when I got I had a beautiful view all over the village, or small city, including the mountain slopes its built on, getting soaked to the socks. But: mission accomplished!

My last day in Rio is was already obvious that soon a longer period of rain would come, but there is no reason for not having one more drinking ball. In the area of Saens Pena I meet up one more time with my carioca friends. Almost everyday I meet knew friends of Caetano and Leandro, and everybody shows me the same thing about their personality: beautiful! This evening ends at 3 a.m., some of the drinking participators have to work tomorrow morning early, they don't care!

My latin heart is still boiling. Rio, el cidade marvelosa, I will be back.

Chau,

Edwin

Rio de Janeiro / Amsterdam, 29 Nov. 02

P.s. Rodney and Dave made it after all!