“Every truth has two sides; it is as well to look at both, before we commit ourselves to either”- Aesop
So far I've highlighted Salvador's more attractive side, the beautiful blue ocean and beaches in every direction, the gorgeous architecture, vibrant music and culture... and I haven't even begun to do those aspects justice. But justice, or the lack thereof, is what I really need to address.
Brazil is one country, but two different worlds. You may have heard of the favelas, or even seen pictures of them juxtaposed against the wealthiest areas, as shown here in Sao Paulo. They're one of the most visible separations between the economic and social classes here, which is a growing problem. It's actually being called the Social Apartheid.
Experiences in Salvador have taught me more about this than any statistics could have. In Corredor Victoria, one of the wealthiest areas in Salvador, you can witness a Ferrari pull out of a gated mansion while a homeless child sleeps against that same gate. Across the street is Campo Grande, which during the day hosts beautiful statues and public attention while at night it boasts crack addicts and beggars. Why would rich people live in a dangerous area? How is there such a divide through a fence? And how has proximity, and a daily reminder of these harsh realities, not spurred some kind of progress towards a solution?
One of the main sources of these problems is the government, or at least the lack of faith in it. When we visited a program in Cidade Baixa (a poorer area) the othe day, we saw this image of the Brazilian politician. Corrupt, ignorant of the starving around him, and seemingly malicious. Not exactly something you'd aspire to be, or believe in.
You can see the truth of this around town. Trash litters the streets and especially the beaches because there are almost ZERO public trash cans. Why? It was considered an unnecessary city expense. Consequence: with dirtier beaches, tourism is going down, the city itself is getting dirtier and dirtier AND the faults of the government are visible literally on every street you visit.
Salvador is the only major Brazilian city without a metro system. Yet we pass a train on our bus rides... just sitting there. Apparently in the past few years, that was a cause which they rallied the public around, generated a lot of money and support, and then a politician stole all the money. The metro sits there, dysfunctional and dismal.
The crime and drug problems in general would speak to at least police faults regardless of the rest. No matter how close you live to somewhere, you don't walk home after a certain hour. Even if you're Brazilian. Violence or theft would be expected, and the police can do little to nothing about it. Brazilians in general have become desensitized to it to the point where you can get robbed in public, scream for help, and receive none.
I've been blessed and wary enough thus far to remain unscathed, but even for those within our program the same cannot be said. Knowing how much this post will frustrate my mother, I'll follow each incident with how I've been avoiding those situations.
One boy had his laptop and cell phone stolen overnight, when someone climbed through his window as he slept (I'm on the sixth floor with bars in my windows). Shortly thereafter, the same boy was walking to class on his own and was robbed of his Brazilian phone at knife-point (I walk with a friend to class, on a busy street). He remained unharmed in both situations with a very positive attitude. This week was the more surprising assault. At about 10 pm, a group of kids from our program were leaving a poetry slam. They walked out of the main neighborhood to take a taxi from the usual stop, and some noticed two 17-year-olds beginning to follow them. At some point, they both jumped on another boy from our program and started to wrestle with him, one trying to take his watch while the other held his arms and tried to find anything else. The boy from our program tried to just shake them off, they tussled a bit, and the rest of the group started calling for help. Nothing. A cab drove by, slowed down, lowered its window, and moved along. They shortly took his watch and jogged away, but nobody stopped them. They went on after their little bit of fun. (Mom, I will take taxis everywhere, not speak English in public, especially at night, and be very aware of my surroundings)
I don't mean to be melodramatic, or to paint a picture of Salvador as a crook's haven. Using common sense, not demonstrating wealth, not speaking English in bad neighborhoods, walking in groups... there are plenty of things you can do to ensure that your night goes safely. Taxis are available and buses are also an option: life goes on. As with any American city, the better you know it, the safer you are. My host mom has been amazing about showing me safe routes and pointing out things to change, even down to when I should make eye contact.
Throughout it all, the people of Bahia are happy. The darkness of night is forgotten by light of new sun, the memories washed away on the shore. When we visited Cidade Baixa, the kids there were the same as any others: energetic, hopeful, happy.
I'm just praying that Salvador confronts that darkness, shines a light on it, and scares out the ghosts before it has a chance to haunt these kids, before it claims some of them. That the people receive the government which they deserve, without corruption. That their faith in authority can be justifiably restored, and the police can provide a trustworthy support for the people. That the city can be as beautiful by night as by day, and that a sense of security become right of the street rather than a commodity for purchase. May seem like I'm dreaming, seeing how far Salvador is from this currently. I'm just trying to believe in a city that has yet to believe in itself. Demanding more for the millions who have slipped into complacency. Praying for some resolution.
So that's the other face of Salvador. The one I had yet to confront, and the one that likely won't get too much more face time here, but it's the backdrop to all the pictures I may paint. Might have to start adjusting the zoom.
So far I've highlighted Salvador's more attractive side, the beautiful blue ocean and beaches in every direction, the gorgeous architecture, vibrant music and culture... and I haven't even begun to do those aspects justice. But justice, or the lack thereof, is what I really need to address.
Experiences in Salvador have taught me more about this than any statistics could have. In Corredor Victoria, one of the wealthiest areas in Salvador, you can witness a Ferrari pull out of a gated mansion while a homeless child sleeps against that same gate. Across the street is Campo Grande, which during the day hosts beautiful statues and public attention while at night it boasts crack addicts and beggars. Why would rich people live in a dangerous area? How is there such a divide through a fence? And how has proximity, and a daily reminder of these harsh realities, not spurred some kind of progress towards a solution?
You can see the truth of this around town. Trash litters the streets and especially the beaches because there are almost ZERO public trash cans. Why? It was considered an unnecessary city expense. Consequence: with dirtier beaches, tourism is going down, the city itself is getting dirtier and dirtier AND the faults of the government are visible literally on every street you visit.
Salvador is the only major Brazilian city without a metro system. Yet we pass a train on our bus rides... just sitting there. Apparently in the past few years, that was a cause which they rallied the public around, generated a lot of money and support, and then a politician stole all the money. The metro sits there, dysfunctional and dismal.
The crime and drug problems in general would speak to at least police faults regardless of the rest. No matter how close you live to somewhere, you don't walk home after a certain hour. Even if you're Brazilian. Violence or theft would be expected, and the police can do little to nothing about it. Brazilians in general have become desensitized to it to the point where you can get robbed in public, scream for help, and receive none.
I've been blessed and wary enough thus far to remain unscathed, but even for those within our program the same cannot be said. Knowing how much this post will frustrate my mother, I'll follow each incident with how I've been avoiding those situations.
One boy had his laptop and cell phone stolen overnight, when someone climbed through his window as he slept (I'm on the sixth floor with bars in my windows). Shortly thereafter, the same boy was walking to class on his own and was robbed of his Brazilian phone at knife-point (I walk with a friend to class, on a busy street). He remained unharmed in both situations with a very positive attitude. This week was the more surprising assault. At about 10 pm, a group of kids from our program were leaving a poetry slam. They walked out of the main neighborhood to take a taxi from the usual stop, and some noticed two 17-year-olds beginning to follow them. At some point, they both jumped on another boy from our program and started to wrestle with him, one trying to take his watch while the other held his arms and tried to find anything else. The boy from our program tried to just shake them off, they tussled a bit, and the rest of the group started calling for help. Nothing. A cab drove by, slowed down, lowered its window, and moved along. They shortly took his watch and jogged away, but nobody stopped them. They went on after their little bit of fun. (Mom, I will take taxis everywhere, not speak English in public, especially at night, and be very aware of my surroundings)
I don't mean to be melodramatic, or to paint a picture of Salvador as a crook's haven. Using common sense, not demonstrating wealth, not speaking English in bad neighborhoods, walking in groups... there are plenty of things you can do to ensure that your night goes safely. Taxis are available and buses are also an option: life goes on. As with any American city, the better you know it, the safer you are. My host mom has been amazing about showing me safe routes and pointing out things to change, even down to when I should make eye contact.
I'm just praying that Salvador confronts that darkness, shines a light on it, and scares out the ghosts before it has a chance to haunt these kids, before it claims some of them. That the people receive the government which they deserve, without corruption. That their faith in authority can be justifiably restored, and the police can provide a trustworthy support for the people. That the city can be as beautiful by night as by day, and that a sense of security become right of the street rather than a commodity for purchase. May seem like I'm dreaming, seeing how far Salvador is from this currently. I'm just trying to believe in a city that has yet to believe in itself. Demanding more for the millions who have slipped into complacency. Praying for some resolution.
So that's the other face of Salvador. The one I had yet to confront, and the one that likely won't get too much more face time here, but it's the backdrop to all the pictures I may paint. Might have to start adjusting the zoom.
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