Two Brothers Foundation / Instituto dois Irmãos

The Rocinha Experience

Beautiful. Violent. Wealthy. Poor. Exotic. Dangerous.

Those are some of the adjectives about Rio de Janeiro and its favelas that raced through my mind as I arrived at Los Angeles International Airport on the morning of May 5, 2009 to catch my Rio de Janeiro bound flight. I was on my way to Rio for multiple reasons, one of which was to volunteer for the Two Brothers / Dois Irmãos Foundation in favela Rocinha, Rio de Janeiro. This was my first trip to Brazil, yet I still had numerous preconceived notions of the country thanks to accounts from friends who had visited Brazil, movies like City of God, news magazine articles, and the internet. Most of these preconceived notions were of the sensationalized kind. Of course, I tried to make due with the information that I had, and attempted to use deductive reasoning to form my opinion of the place, despite all of the extravagant information that I received beforehand. So with my information in hand, I boarded my flight with good intentions, high hopes, and an open mind.

Once I landed in Rio and de-boarded the plane, I quickly realized that I needed to throw all preconceived notions out of the window. The deciding moment came during my taxi ride from the airport to the Zona Sul, when I got my first up close and personal glimpses of the city. My first views of Rio were not of world famous beaches or of the Cristo Redentor statue or of Sugar Loaf Mountain. Instead, they were of the favelas of the Zona Norte. Many favelas. Quite a sight, although not the sight that I’d expected to see. As the taxi approached the Zona Sul, the sea of favelas gave way to green hills and high rise apartment buildings, yet even once in the Zona Sul, I didn’t have to look too hard to find a favela. That’s when it became apparent to me just how prevalent favelas in Rio really were, and the magnitude of what I had set out to do.

Flash forward two weeks…

After a brief bout of sickness, I was finally ready to go to Rocinha for the first time. Labeled as the largest slum in South America, all Cariocas are familiar with the name Rocinha. Most of the Brazilians that I had told of my intentions to go to Rocinha tried their hardest to persuade me otherwise, including my roommate who told me horror story after horror story about favelas and of what would happen to me if I stepped foot in one. Eventually their worry for me began to make me worried too. Did I still want to volunteer? Or would I rather spend my time in Rio only at the beach? The answer was simple: I was already in Rio, and decided that I was going to Rocinha regardless of what my Carioca friends thought. So after a brief discussion with Rogerio, the Volunteer Coordinator, who told me how to get to the favela, I caught a van from Avienda Atlantica in Copacabana to Rocinha, which was an experience in itself (Tiago sums up the van ride perfectly). After the scenic van ride along Avienda Niemeyer, the van eventually reached the entrance of Rocinha, and I got out ready to tackle Rocinha head on.

Once there, I called Rogerio, who was to meet me at the entrance of Rocinha and lead me to the 2bros/i2i institute. As is usually the case in the afternoons at 2bros/i2i, Rogerio had a full house of children and couldn’t leave to meet me at the entrance at that moment. I was instructed to wait for 30 minutes in front of the FIAT car shop that is located across the street from the favela. At this point I became mildly concerned, mostly because it was dusk, and I felt that I stood out as an outsider with my bright yellow “Tropical Bungee - Costa Rica” t-shirt. I was already nervous enough about entering Rocinha thanks those warnings that I’d received from concerned friends, and now I had to sit and wait in front of the favela at dusk. As I sat there, I observed the surroundings. I observed more vans dropping off passengers and competing to pick up more passengers, the Barra de Tijuca bound buses that drive past Rocinha and are filled with businessmen and women on their way home, groups on young men from the favela hanging out, and some of the residents of posh Sao Conrado jogging adjacent to the favela. I found these contrasts very bizarre, because I’d never seen people of such varying socioeconomic levels in such close proximity with each other. But after 30 minutes of sitting, waiting, and thinking, I met Rogerio (have you met him?) and he introduced me to Rocinha as we walked to the institute.

Once inside of Rocinha, I was pleasantly surprised. Instead of dodging bullets as I’d been made to think would be the case, I saw vendors selling goods, kids playing with each other, barber shops, restaurants, families, grocery stores, and even an internet cafe (which surprised the daylights out of me!). It seemed more like a neighborhood than a slum, and that’s exactly what it is. It’s a community. Once at the institute, I was once again pleasantly surprised. The institute was filled with lively children and dedicated volunteers, and it was then that the warmth of Rocinha became apparent to me. This isn’t to say that Rocinha isn’t without its problems though, because I also saw teenagers with machine guns strapped over their arms, open waste due to an inadequate sewage system, and a few people openly using drugs on that inaugural tour of Rocinha. It is a favela, after all. Still, the essence of community stood out more to me than the weapons or drugs.

During the following months, to the dismay and shock of some of my Brazilian friends, I continued to go to Rocinha to teach English to adults and teenagers in the evenings. My students were friendly and funny, and a pleasure to teach. And my fellow volunteers and the others who are affiliated with the organization were also great and a pleasure to work and interact with. I enjoyed the experience immensely. Rocinha definitely has its problems, as do most other favelas. Yet, Rocinha is not defined by these issues. There is a human side to the favela, one that is often missing from popular discourse about favelas. This human side is incredibly warm and welcoming, and can best be learned through first hand experience in the community. I’m glad that I had the chance to experience it.

-Brian Lawless, UCLA Alum ‘07
2bros / i2i volunteer 2009