A night in the life

It's 10pm here, which means that true cariocas are just taking their showers to get ready for a night out. I'm sitting in Luca's bedroom which is also the computer room. She's asleep on the bed behind me. Rocki is reading in our room. I've just been surfing the net for news about Rio.

We live on the far southern edge of Rio in Recreio, a town that used to be sleepy in a beach kind of way but is now witnessing the burst up of tall condominiums. If you go a few minutes down the road from where we live, you're in true country: hand threshing and horse-drawn wagons. This is what is meant by "developing world," this mix of SUVs and wireless internet in one building while on the corner there is no electricity or indoor toilet.

I went online to find out more about the latest in Rocinha. Rocinha is a favela - read "slum" - that we pass everytime we drive to Rocki's mother's house. It's huge - one of the largest in South America - and like any city, is a mixture of devout families and well entrenched drug lords.

And maybe it's different. After all, Rocinha has been able to close down the city of Rio on a number of occassions, by calling for a general strike. And the cabs stopped running and the stores were closed. They are not without power.

And in this city within a city, for the last few days there has been the full battle of a civil war. Drug lords in Rocinha fighting against drug lords in three other favelas.

Here is why I was looking online for more information. Here is what is so strange. I ride the buses here, I drive around with my family, I walk on some streets and I never see any of this. I have gone to Rocinha. I took Luca on a tour, called gaggingly enough "Exotic Tours" but a program in which Rocinha kids get job skills in tourism. I wanted to climb up the streets, to demystify this place that claims so many headlines. I knew that I would see the good Rocinha, the land of families and genuine people, because of course they are there, too. And like south central and the neighborhood in Cleveland where I spent part of my childhood, they don't get the press ink. And so I took Luca and we did the tour. And everyone loved that I brought my child and we got lots of attention and people were lovely and the streets felt sturdy and planted.

Boom crash fourteen dead and the military police have occupied the neighborhood where we were wandering. And I never see any of this and I don't want to see any of this and the older I get, the more used to privilege I get, but this is just too strange.

Even stranger, they are building a temple to the Rolling Stones on Copacabana Beach. This will be the largest Stones show in history and the city is giving it completely free "to the people." They are building a stage, there will be eight large screens to flash the show to the millions they expect to gather. They have built a walkway from Copacabana Palace and over the street to the stage for the VIPs. They are spending millions.

And they are cleaning up the city to make it beautiful. The Stones arrived today. They are waiting in town.

Is there any connection between Rocinha and the Stones or is it just the day's pattern?