a note on fear
As you may know if you've read my blog this week, it's been kind of a doozy.
When I first came to Brazil to live here, I was terrified. The first week I barely went outside by myself. I'd travelled here before three times, and even been inside a favela twice, but the travel high and my traveler mentality made the experience different. Coming here for an extended period of time made me suddenly very in tune with the reality of the city.
Gradually though, I got over my fear. I realized that the streets of the city aren't a war zone, and once I learned the good and bad places to be, I relaxed. Eli taught me the ropes about how to handle myself and I thought I'd got it down pretty well. Things happen all the time, but I take them in stride. I also don't like talking about them all the time here, since there are many misconceptions about Rio and it is a great place to visit and to live.
But this week, when there was a kidnapping on my street, an ensuing shooting ten minutes from my house, and a terrible murder in the lobby of my office building, I suddenly felt that dizzy, nauseating feeling I'd had those first weeks. I am not untouchable, and as much as I try to put out of my mind the dangers that lie in this city to keep my own sanity, sometimes it becomes abundantly clear that I've been too cavalier. And in the middle of researching this entry, I unexpectedly burst into sobs.
A few days ago, an employee from a company in my building went to the bank to take out a large sum of money. There was a robber on his tail, doing what they call a "saidinha do banco," where criminals watch people going into the bank to make extractions, follow them, and rob them, often killing them in the process. This happened to a businessman in Leblon recently, and he was shot and killed in broad daylight.
So the robber followed the guy back to the office building, all the way to the elevators, where he pulled out a gun and threatened the employee. At that moment, the employee's boss arrived in the lobby on the elevator, and he tried to fight off the robber, so the robber shot him in the head. He died instantly.
The man who died was named Ulrich Rosenzweig. He was 85 years old. He was a great-grandfather of three, a grandfather of six, and a father of four. He was a Jewish Holocaust survivor.
When I first came to Brazil to live here, I was terrified. The first week I barely went outside by myself. I'd travelled here before three times, and even been inside a favela twice, but the travel high and my traveler mentality made the experience different. Coming here for an extended period of time made me suddenly very in tune with the reality of the city.
Gradually though, I got over my fear. I realized that the streets of the city aren't a war zone, and once I learned the good and bad places to be, I relaxed. Eli taught me the ropes about how to handle myself and I thought I'd got it down pretty well. Things happen all the time, but I take them in stride. I also don't like talking about them all the time here, since there are many misconceptions about Rio and it is a great place to visit and to live.
But this week, when there was a kidnapping on my street, an ensuing shooting ten minutes from my house, and a terrible murder in the lobby of my office building, I suddenly felt that dizzy, nauseating feeling I'd had those first weeks. I am not untouchable, and as much as I try to put out of my mind the dangers that lie in this city to keep my own sanity, sometimes it becomes abundantly clear that I've been too cavalier. And in the middle of researching this entry, I unexpectedly burst into sobs.
A few days ago, an employee from a company in my building went to the bank to take out a large sum of money. There was a robber on his tail, doing what they call a "saidinha do banco," where criminals watch people going into the bank to make extractions, follow them, and rob them, often killing them in the process. This happened to a businessman in Leblon recently, and he was shot and killed in broad daylight.
So the robber followed the guy back to the office building, all the way to the elevators, where he pulled out a gun and threatened the employee. At that moment, the employee's boss arrived in the lobby on the elevator, and he tried to fight off the robber, so the robber shot him in the head. He died instantly.
The man who died was named Ulrich Rosenzweig. He was 85 years old. He was a great-grandfather of three, a grandfather of six, and a father of four. He was a Jewish Holocaust survivor.
"it becomes abundantly clear that I've been too cavalier."
Nope; You haven't. You just went into "local" mode. I grew up in Rio and, for a while, lived not far from where you do now, so I know what that is like, to be aware, sometimes overly so, but not in constant fear.
You're still taken aback, Rachel, too much, too soon...
Posted by: Trapped in NJ No Longer | May 31, 2008 at 01:56 AM
And just to clarify that I'm not being cavalier either, I can only try to imagine what the Rosenzweigs are going through...
Alav Hashalom.
Posted by: Trapped in NJ No Longer | May 31, 2008 at 02:21 AM
Hi,
I just recently found your blog. I've been on a search for expat blogs, specifically (north)Americans in Brazil.
Why? Because I am one as well. :) I'm currently living in Maringa - PR, Brazil. We are on a two year assignment with my husband's employer, about halfway through right now.
It only took me reading a few sentences to realize how different our experiences are. I know crime is bad in Rio, but reading your accounts has been an eye opener.
Our town is relatively safe, however, I never, ever let me guard down. I am a gringa and it shows, especially since I am blond as well.
I look forward to reading more of your blog. Feel free to visit mine as well.
Lori
Posted by: Lori | May 31, 2008 at 09:07 AM
I definitely have noticed that you have become more comfortable in Rio - I started reading your blog from the beginning of it, when we found out we were moving here, and there were times when I would have to not read it for a while because I would get so freaked out by some of the stories (like the one a few months ago about the priest & nun who were carjacked!) - but I always came back.
And of course I realize you are just reporting on what is happening in the news.
After living here for a few months I can relate, I now realize that it is possible to be 'comfortable' without letting your guard down, but I wonder what it will be like when I go home where isn't really much to fear? I will realize how much I've changed, I suppose...
Just some random thoughts...
Posted by: DRL | June 03, 2008 at 08:55 PM