Rio de Janeiro -- Prelude to Carnivale !

Rio is famous enough without Carnivale, the world’s largest party it sponsors each year and usually at the tail end of February.  The two movies, “Blame It On Rio” and “City of God,” highlight this reputation.  In 2011, the festival is officially March 4-8.  The parent of Mardi Gras of New Orleans fame (except on a much more massive scale) is expecting 500,000 foreign visitors this season.  70,000 alone showed up on world famous Copacabana Beach for some pre-party festivities earlier this week.  Prices for housing, have been bumped up five and six fold.  Even the most hideous of hostels, commands over $100 nightly to stay.  That is in a shared room, with a shared bathroom.  Guess how much hot water each will be entitled to?  Single rooms are much more.  Food is out of sight.  Tickets for the parades cost over $100 each.  Everything is jacked, simply because local vendors can.  Pickpockets are working overtime and complaining to their union stewards about the added burden of carrying so many wallets without journeyman assistance.  This is the chance to “make bank” for all of them.  Needless to say, airfare and bus fare have been elevated ridiculously as well, as for the next two weeks “All Roads Lead to Rio.”  Virtually everybody I have met and talked to at hostels over the past two weeks around central and northern South America, is planning to be there.

So, it took a certain amount of gambling on my part to decide to show up in Iguazu Falls, without a plane ticket to Rio, and no housing arranged.  Something inside me simply objected to paying $500 for a one-way two hour flight, and $100 + nightly for a rabbit warren with bunkbeds to sleep in.  While still in Iguazu Falls, it all paid off.  While sightseeing, I met a young man who offered to let me crash at his place in Rio, for $40 nightly.  And, I obtained a airline ticket (with lots of strange routing, but that is another story) for only $200.  It is now my turn, to feel as if I have “made bank.”  I arrive in Rio two days earlier than expected, on Wednesday evening, and get a ride from the International GIG Airport to the Centro area downtown.  The streets are largely deserted, and great effort is being put into cleaning them up.

Thursday the weather is horrible.  Overcast, and rainy.  This contrasts with a near record heat spell endured by the locals the past two weeks.  No problem.  I can’t go sightseeing yet anyway.  Need to get the computer fixed.  Find a shop half a mile away.  Get it fixed in only 15 minutes, but for the Lordly Sum of 50 riales (about $30).  Feeling flushed with victory, and magnanimous, I go to the outside square for a shake made up of mixed fruits and a quick bite to eat.  While there, I put the computer down between my leg and a concrete column to give some surplus coins to a little female street urchin making her rounds with extended hand and a woeful look.  Immediately, a fellow approaches me from the side.  Invades my intimacy zone.  Feels wrong.  He wants the time.  It is bullshit.   I know this approach.  Look down, and … my computer is gone !  Only five to ten seconds have elapsed.  The decoy quickly clears out.  I start running in circles.  Then yell.  Several nearby bystanders, point to an artful dodger making his way slowly away from me.  He is perhaps 30 yards distant.  My computer is elevated to his chest level so it is hidden from view – not swinging by its strap or slung over his shoulder where I could see it -- and his backpack carefully folded over it.  Had I waited another five seconds to notice or refused to pay attention to my gut feeling about the decoy, he’d have been around a corner already.  I start my pursuit.  Perhaps he hears me coming, or the shouts of others assisting me in his tracking.  But he glances over his shoulder, sees me barreling in, drops the computer, and then runs like hell.  Recovery of the computer makes me lucky beyond measure.  I had four years worth of pix on it.  Credit card info and online capability.  Banking stuff.  Blog access.  E-mail portals.  Have no idea what I’d done or how I would handle things, had he made it around that corner.  Other than file a pathetic little police report, good only for insurance recovery months from now.  No help to me at all while in South America still and 30 days to go …

I celebrate by taking the bus down to Iconic SugarLoaf Mountain, the famous backdrop for any establishing photo of Rio de Janeiro in tourism literature.  Today, it is all socked in.  And I am told it is 80 riales to ride to the top (about $53).  Hardly worth it, to see nothing.  So I hike up the 700 feet to the mid-level, to see what it is possible to view.  Hike is none too difficult, and rather enjoyable.  Territorial views – including the overlook over Ipanema and Copacobana Beaches – are not possible.  But there is a nice little downward glance possible of the local boat harbor, some much closer beaches, and upper SugarLoaf.  Also, the equally world famous Christ The Redeemer Statue (located atop another Sugarloaf granite dome but several valleys across from us, so it is a telephoto view) suddenly shows up amidst a cloud interruption.  Just like Machu Picchu from the summit of Wayna Picchu, it is visible for perhaps five to ten seconds at most, and then completely hidden again.  The fleeting image is quite stirring.

I continue my pre-Carnivale explorations with a bus ride and then long walk down the entire length of Ipanema Beach.  It is a beautiful, well manicured arc of a sandspit.  The locals keep it maintained like a private garden.  There are regular lifeguard shacks, bath and changing rooms (for about 50 cents), trash cans, and attractive vendor shacks along the way.  Opposite the beach, on boulevard frontage, are a string of quality bars and restaurants and high-priced apartments.  Snap a couple pix at night after lingering a bit, then walk the reverse path but one block inland, a street dominated by bars, hotels, hostels, and eateries.  Usual drill.  I ask how far it is to a particular bar, Shenanigans, where primarily English is spoken?  Am told it is ten blocks.  Okay, easy walk.  Ten blocks later, how far is it?  Oh, maybe eight blocks.  Eight blocks later, how far now?  Oh, four blocks to the square and then another four blocks to another square and there it is – second story on the left.  They got it right on the third try, after 25 blocks or so.  The equivalent of “An Irish Mile.”  Find throughout the course of the evening that the energy level is not high tonight.  In some ways the pulse of the street is almost subdued.  It is as if the pent up energy for Carnivale, is being governed for release at the proper time.  Am out well past 2 AM though, and since the Rio buses and Metro (underground) stop running something short of midnight, I am forced to take a cab home. 

Overall, awaiting Carnivale, I find Rio very busy but not crowded.  Population here is close to 13 million, about twice the size of the entire State of Washington back home.  The men and women are both well dressed and industrious.  This is befitting of South America's # 1 economy.  They are quite attractive for the most part, as well.   Have not seen a single beggar locally yet (except for the really small, really young street urchins referred to previously).  The streets are quite clean, though I get the impression there has been special cleanup going on in preparation for the Festival over the coming week.  Police are everywhere.  By that, I mean everywhere !  Security is of prime importance in a city with a reputation for violence and thievery.  Only two months ago, the police had to invade a favela – a slum area of the city previously dominated completely by youths with guns.  Occasionally you still read about a foreign traveler being held up at gunpoint, or harmed very near to the popular tourist areas.  Two weeks ago a policeman was shot, right near Ipanema.  Rio is different than most major cities, in that the tony and safer areas are downtown in the flats (nearer the beach), and not in the uphill or highrise view areas where crime and poverty is most abundant.   The city architecture, while not particularly modern, is modern enough and sporting nothing of the incomplete look so common throughout earlier portions of the journey (La Paz particularly comes to mind).  The streets are broad, the traffic orderly (and there are actual lines in the street to delineate lanes), and the buses modern.  It has been a pleasant place to visit so far, with a friendly and helpful populace who seem to be going out of their way to make me and so many others welcome.

Next: Carnivale !