Rio, B.C.(D). (1)

This was not our view. This is not our picture. Please, person we stole it from on Flickr, do not sue us.

In a city rife with crime and famous for its world renowned revelatory parties and nightlife, including Carneval, and perhaps more (in)famous for its prime real estate favelas, only one man could, oddly fittingly, watchover such a house of sin, The Big J, Jesus.

I've loved South America for many a reason, but I've yet to love it for its metropolitan settings. That no longer holds true. Rio is--outside of a rampant problem with drugs and it's complementary mistress, guns--the embodiment of what a larger-than-life city should encapsulate. It is beautiful, it is loaded with culture, it is a haven of diversity, its people are happy and friendly; the city literally and figuratively dances with passion and life, and you cannot help to catch this sense, if only for those few days you spend there you too will join the ranks of a unique subset of citizens, Caroacas.

The most incredible sunset awaited us at the top of Sugar Loaf. Astounding!!!

We had originally planned five days in Rio as we only received a 30 day visa for one of the largest--and hands down most expensive country that we are visiting (2)--countries in the world. Instead we spent 1/3 of our Brazilian days in Rio de Janeiro and, in fact, could probably have spent all 30 and still felt we didn't have enough time.

Our actual view of Christ the Redeemer, covered in scaffolding.

The city itself is an amalgam of man and nature. A perfect metropolitan area infused with nothing short of its ideal organic counterpart, tropical and dramatic forms of nature.

As we drove into the city via a hired taxi we were filled with trepidation. (3) Horror stories of robberries, backpack pillagers, small brazilians dressed as Millie vanillie and other gory, but no less graphic, details filled our imaginations of a city fraught with dangers. These were never completely put at ease, but from the moment we arrived downtown, we were inundated with so many other stimuli we were forced to shove concern to the background.

Beautiful city, beautiful views.

Looking at Rio for the first time was very much for me like (no, I'm not going to make some virginal analogy here) being a child and seeing the Vegas horizon for the first time. (4) Just before entering the central downtown area you round a bend and just across the horizon you can see the outline of Christ the Redemeer. It's faint and you aren't positive, but it's just cross-like enough that you simply know. Within fifteen minutes you begin to have a sense of the enormity of the surrounding hills and see how striking and an important part of the landscape they play. There you are in the middle of downtown: smog, cars, buses, grim, noise, stench. Then you are passing through a tunnel in the middle of one of these hills and you exit and you aren't there any longer. You are sandwiched between El Capitan and halfdome and directly in front of you is a lake, sun glimmering off its placid waters. There's apartment buildings and cars and people and still even some of that city grim, but it is all dwarfed by these massive pieces of granite and this still lake. By the time you realize it you are through another tunnel and the sweet stench of ocean slaps you in the face, awakening you to the terrestial reality of Rio de Janeiro.

Our hostel was located in Copacabana upon a San Francisco-steep hill at the end of the street, but not the end of the hill, which had plenty of undeveloped hillside above us. As such, we had a vicious climb to and fro, but could wake to the sight of little monkeys playing in the trees across the street; A few blocks from the beach, the middle of one of the Americas most populous cities and monkeys are prancing around in its center, tourist center at that.

As nature encroaches upon man, man equally seems to encroach upon nature. The sheer granite rock faces are playgrounds for rock climbers. Hiking up Sugar Loaf hill before sunset afforded us equal views of the downtown landscape on one side and two rock climbers laborously attempting to summit one of the unique city-located climbs, on the other side. The view from where we stood above the city almost captured its entirety, while no doubt there's on top of the granite face, did.

The multi-faceted conglomeration doesn't just apply to its physical appearances. It's Life [and I'm going to use American cities here as comparisons because, well, I'm American and that's what I best know] is best described as the spirit of New Orleans, the hours of Vegas, the plasticity of Hollywood, the pride (read self-awareness in greatness) of New York and the vitality that only the youth can inspire, which, because there is no American parallel, is like that of the third world. (5) It is iconic in every single way.

On Courtneys last night we really got to experience the lively culture as we went to a Samba show and traditional Brazilian dinner at the famous Casa Rosa. We were surrounded by music, people (many tourist included), dancing, Cairpirinhas, tasty snacks and the fluid Brazilian dance/fight, Capaweara (I can't even pronounce this word, let alone spell it, so that is my own phonetical spelling.). She ate feijoada, a slow cooked bean stew with seasoned pork roast (or butt) and Brazilian spiced sausage (honestly a bit like farmer johns smoked kilbasa--the pork butt was much more interesting) is dumped over rice and covered with farofa, a dried mandioc flower with giant bits of bacon (a traditional ketchupian condiment and delicious with enough bacon. It's shining trait, besides the aforementioned bacon, is that it adds a wonderful crunch to the food. Good texture for something slow-cooked.). Delicious.

In a fairly intimate, tri-leveled courtyard was the samba show, which I don't really know how to classify or what the music technically entails, but the show we experienced that night was like happy jazz meets a bounce house (maybe a little skaw in there for good measure). It was fun, energetic and Brazilian.

Lastly, and probably the most incredible performance, was the impromptu amateur Capawearas. Apparently this "dance" was created by slaves who were not allowed to fight, by rule of their masters. In an effort to either practice fighting or as a way to let out pent-up aggression, or both, the slaves created a fight-like routine, similar to something you would see in The Matrix, put to music and all. It's a combination of beautiful, seemigly choreographed, leg sweeps, arching kicks, ducks, blocks and vertical jumps with a hang-time that would make Brent Barry jealous. Fluid and smooth, incredible to watch. Each "fighter" would take a turn dancing, chanting and playing the big, long bow-like instrument (it sounds cool, but I can't describe the sound). It was just another example of the uniquness that is Brazil.

Courtney, incredible in her own right, left us to fend for ourselves the next day. We left her at the airport, headed back to our hostel and monkeys, and drifted off to sleep, resting ourselves for the next five days in Rio.


(1) B.C.(D). means Before Courtney's Departure. We loved Rio, we spent an equal amount of time there before and after Courtney left, we decided a before and after post sounded like good fun. So, you have to read about two Rios.
(2) We are not gracing the shores of Guiana, French Guiana, Suriname or Venezuela. I believe that although poor, most of these countries are fairly expensive in tourist terms, but I cannot vouch for this. If you are interested in visiting, try this site called google (pronounced goo*guh*lei in Spanish) for more information. We also skipped Uruguay, for circumstancial reasons.
(3) Don't fret our money-minded fans, we went with three other people and actually saved money thru a 3 hour taxi tour.
(4) for those of you who have never been to Vegas as a kid, think Disneyland, or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, things that forever seem surreal in your memory, because they are so overwhelmlingly magical during that initial experience.
(5) One night we headed out to an every weekend fair/concert held between Friday night and Sunday (yes, more than 36 hours of partying every weekend). We had trouble finding it, and didn't arrive till just before midnight, the time when the big concert ended and late-night revelry began. It seemed as if the whole city was there. The last song happened to be about Rio and I swear to god half the crowd, maybe 50k people or more (not including the mass that had already left to catch the last subway), were doing one giant Congo line. Everyone else was jumping up and down and singing. We were all frustrated because we trudged around the ghetto for an hour and a half looking for this place, but once we got there, the vibe was palpable, and we couldn't have had a better time.

Sugar Loaf, one of Rio´s most iconic rocks and the serene and awe-inspiring setting of one of our Rio hikes.