So I suppose I would refer to my current living situation in Vila Matos as less favela and more ghetto. Vila is definitely on the poorer side of things. It is a dirty place full of street dogs and foot traffic, but does retain a certain level of infrastructure and security. Because there are so many people living in this bairro, I find that I can remain fairly anonymous as a foreigner, just one more face in the crowd.I have been offered to live in/possibly co-own a house in another area of town. An American teacher working for my school had built it during her stay, but eventually decided to jump ship (as most gringos do) and make her way back to the States. The move was sudden, and after her first tenant decided to haul ass to Sao Paulo, the house was left all but abandoned. Friends at the school saw me as the ideal candidate to take up the place, considering that I was one of the few foreigners willing to live in a favela, and that I was young, impoverished, and eager to take up the proverbial nail and hammer.
Well, to get started…
What began as a seemingly ideal situation has turned into some far more complicated, a tele-novela of epic proportions set in the heart of Salvador. I have been left to make some tough decisions, balancing my simple life in Vila with something thick with responsibility (and opportunity?). Perhaps you blog readers could lend a discerning eye to this most knotty of situations.
Lets open the play:
Setting:
Villa Brandão. Villa B is a small favela community off of the Largo do Vitoria, a stunning place with a picturesque view of the sea, a kind of Jorge Amado romance novel that hasn’t been written. Because it is small, everyone knows everyone, and when you are a gringo people really know it. The place breaths sensuality and is certainly a most attractive of ladies, but as we all know, beauty is often misleading and not a true marker to the course and content of a persons soul.
The house. The house in question is big, with two stories and a large patio facing the sea. It has two bathrooms, a large kitchen, living room, bedroom, and upstairs floor. Local kids and drug users have been using the house as their little adventure castle, and unfortunately the year and a half of neglect coupled with the shoddy favela craftsmanship has not been kind. There are holes in the roof and multiple structural cracks along the walls. There are water leaks in the bedroom, and non secure points of entry (a big deal in this kind of neighborhood). I am told by the local residents that these problems are fixable. Clearly, work would need to be contracted outside of the favela, and at this point I have no idea how much all of these “must do’s” are going to cost. But the place could be a real diamond in the rough, and I like the idea of fixing it up and turning it into something beautiful.
The situation. So here is where things start to get dicey. My initial impression of Vila B could be described as sketchy at best. As soon as I arrived in the area, I felt the eyes glisten on local residents and my spidey senses when all haywire. Immediately upon entering the bairro, people began to approach me for money. Local kids entered my house asking me for things, and one of them stole a favorite knife of mine right in front of my nose. One guy asked if I would like to buy a boat he was building. I said no and that I didn’t have much money. One guy insisted on doing my construction. The list goes on.
Then came the two evil antagonists of our tale, Adilson and Roberval, who enter stage left with knives and face cards hidden up their sleeves. The first guy, Adilson, shady fucking dude that he is, approached me with this concocted story that the owner had left the electricity bill in his name (she denies this), and that if I wanted to move in, I would have to pick up his electricity bill and the debit to turn the electricity on. First he said the debit was R$300, then R$700, then R$300 again. Naturally, “he didn’t have any money” and that he would pay me back “someday” (haha…right). Whatever his relationship to the money is, there is indeed a bill, and I would have to pay it before I move in (unjust anyone?)
Then pops in Roberval who built the original house (a house that looks to be fifty years old after three years standing I might add). Apparently, a few years ago, Roberval’s wife made him a church going man, got him to stop using and robbing people blind. As per you can’t take the fight out of the dog, he as apparently returned to his old ways, and looks for any opportunity to scam a gringo. Well, naturally, he insisted on doing all of the repairs for the house, but wouldn’t give me an estimate or work out a contract. There are rumors surfacing that he wanted to tear down the house himself, and steal the land from his previous contractor. (small minds, small thoughts)
Supporting characters and notions. Now to be fair, Vila B is not just a den of robbers and thieves. These two low lifes are not, I think, representative of the bairro as a whole. The truth of the matter is until I prove my grit and establish rapport with the local community, this is normal favela behavior. Poor people know their opportunities when they see them. I have to show them what is or is not acceptable in terms of my treatment. And speaking of the house, I dream of building it up into a place that is actually visitable, with room for guests. I could have churrascos overlooking the sea. I could properly entertain my friends and folks from the States. I have a new stove, a refrigerator, and a place to finally put my stuff.
Last week I did another round of touring and work on the house. I met a very nice old women, a friend of the owner, who had tried to set up social projects for the kids in the area. She told me to get the place as secure as possible, to never allow locals to enter the house, to contract work from outside, but also that the place was a great place to live, there wasn’t any real violence or serious drug trafficking, and that if I sat it out I would really come to love the place. In this sense, I am a conflicted person.
The house is in bad shape but could be reformed into something magical…
The village is favela but could with time become a wonderful setting for my writing…
The issues of safety, for myself, my girlfriend, my stuff are of prime importance…
Many questions remain, and I wonder…
Can I, should I, try and make this work?
4 comments:
Hi Leo,
I totally understand your dilemma.
One thing you have to consider (apart from the security aspect) is whether you want to/can afford to invest money in the place. And whether you could recoup this money later.
I don't know the area you're talking about, but I do have some knowledge of favelas (as you know, my girlfriend is from Retiro).
I have had no problems visiting the favela - I stick out like a sore thumb as a white gringo in a totally black area, but perhaps because I am connected to a favela family ( her parents, brothers, sisters, aunts & uncles still live there) I appear to have been accepted more readily. In fact, the only time my car was damaged was when it was parked at Iguatemi - when it's parked in the favela I have no problems whatsoever.
The old woman you speak of talks a lot of sense, but don't forget she's a friend of the owner, "working" in the interests of her friend.
Another thing you need to know is WHY the owner jumped ship so suddenly.
Favela people tend to be poor people who haven't had the opportunities in life that we've had. But of course I don't need to tell you that. You know as well as I do that most are good people. But unfortunately there are always those who spoil things for the rest of the residents. Adilson and Roberval are prime examples. And unfortunately they won't be the only ones.
If the place has been used as a haunt for druggies and undesirables, then it is already known as such and has a well-trodden path leading to its door. This won't go away overnight.
Perhaps if you have next-to-nothing to start off with then risk of theft is negligable - but you have a motorbike, I assume a computer, other valuable personal goods. You will probably be seen as a potential target by the dodgy minority.
I haven't met your girlfriend yet (unfortunately) but if she isn't used to favela life then I'm sure she may feel a little nervous if the area has a potentially hostile atmosphere. I've driven through Vila Matos a couple of times and didn't feel at all anxious, but if Villa B is a more stereotypical favela then that may be a cause for concern.
As you're already living in Vila Matos, you've been building up a rapport with and been accepted by the locals - these locals will look out for your interests. They know that just because you're a gringo, it doesn't automatically mean that you're a rich gringo, ready to be fleeced.
You won't have this luxury in a new place - you'll have to start from scratch again.
I'll ask Val (my girlfriend) if she knows anything about Villa Brandão.
btw. Have you checked out MY blog yet?
http://gringoinbahia.blogspot.com/
Give me a ring sometime... There's a beer at the barraca with our names on it!
Leo,
My friend lived in an apartment in that favela for a couple of months and has the email of the owner of the house. If you want I could try to get it for you. The owner is American, lived there for a while, and now is back in the states but rents the place out (usually to gringos). My friend had no problems while there, and her American friend lived there for 2 years before her, had no problems and loved it.
One thing is that the apartment she had has a small apartment in the basement that a local guy lives in with his giant pitbull. He is the "security guy" for the building and takes care of the dog. When nobody is home, the dog is in the yard and nobody in their right mind would want to try coming in. They have had no problems with theft. You might think about doing something like this. Or you might think about going and talking with this security guy to get some ideas. His name is Charlie and the house is the very last house in the favela closest to the yacht club, the big orange one.
I think it is an interesting idea, but would require some capital to make it work. And you might think about hiring some local folks to do stuff like security or cleaning (a local woman is the maid at the house where my friend lived) and that might smooth things over a bit, but you might want to get someone with a good reference (perhaps from Charlie?) or wait until you have been there a while and know folks better.
-Cheryl
PS. No worries on my books, but when you get a chance you can drop them by anytime and if I am not here just leave them with the security guy.
Thanks Pedra. I have been doing my research. The house you are talking about is owned by a guy named Noah. I had a couple of friends live there, and they too loved it. Noah and I have been chatting back and forth over email. He seems to have become disenchanted with the neighborhood, and is selling his house to a construction company who are going to bulldoze there and build a big apartment building. Kinda sad because his house is so beautiful, and much better constructed than the house I may be moving in.
You are right about needing the capital. It will take me a long time, but if I move in I will try and fix everything, just baby steps at a time. The first thing she needs is a new roof.
K...will swing by with books soon. Hope you guys are well.
I think you got some good advice here but we all end up doing what we thought we would end up doing in the end. I have found this to be mostly true. Advice is like that.
On to the play.
Act II, Scene I
If I was feeling creative right upon waking up, I would have something clever and also useful to write here, lol.
On to the deal, here it is. You def. need capital, no ifs ands or bundas. If I didn't just get fired (cough, by my own brother so he can make more money, cough), I'd send help in the form of the weakening greenback. Much like your possible new home, there's some hope in this (in the bouncing back of the dollar and also in your readers bondade)
Let me come back from 10 days in Colombia for which I'm leaving Monday, get a new job, and I'd be happy to send you a small donation. Perhaps you could use your Myspace to *yellow tape* orcastrate *yellow tape* (...I'm sure I murdered that word) something like a drive.
Figure out what kinds of amounts you are looking at spending and that could help you balance out the amount of work versus the possible beauty of the finished product versus other living options.
Some say "doubt means don't" but I like to doubt my doubting skills every blue moon.
Sorte!
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