Rio de Janeiro...

So, I have officially reached my halfway point in Brazil, and Dan keeping to his word, came to visit.  After a ten hour delay and a ten hour flight, Dan arrived to Sao Paulo and was quickly hurried to the bus station to board an overnight bus to Rio de Janeiro.

Arriving to Rio at 5am, we were both quite tired and opted to take a taxi to our hostel rather than attempt to figure out the public transportation system.  We handed the driver our address and watched the sunrise as he drove us through the streets and up an inclined hill.  We repeated the number "trinta e cinco" as he drove along the street of our hostel.  "Vinte e sete (27), vinte e nove (29), trinta e um (31), quarenta (40)" the driver stated with a confused expression on his face.  He turned the cab around and drove up and down the street another time, coming to the conclusion that number 35 did not exist and gestured for us to get out of the taxi cab.

We paid him, exited the cab, and realized that we had no idea where to go. We wandered aimlessly for a little bit, passing groups of girls in high heels and makeup returning home from the nightclubs, wondering why two Americans with backpacks were walking back and forth without any apparent direction.

Dan's load must have been feeling a bit lighter than usual, because it took him a few minutes to come to the realization that he had left his bag with his passport, credit cards and laptop computer in the taxi cab that had left five minutes ago. Panic striken, but still half asleep Dan and I raced down the hill to find the nearest cab and headed back to the bus station, where his bag had been returned safe and sound. Graças a deus...

We eventually found our way to our hostel, which was hidden behind a grafitti painted door. The owner, Luis, was a friendly Brazilian man, who was excited to have two American guests. He gave us a tour of the hostel and walked us out to the roof deck where we had a view of the entire city.

"Down there is Copacabana beach and if you walk further you will hit Ipanema beach," he explained.

"Where are the favelas?" I asked, thinking of the warnings my students had given me about the favelas in Rio. My students had warned me to stay away from the favelas, or slums, where the drug violence is the most dangerous in the world.

"Take care," one student told me when I excitedly told him about my upcoming trip.

"Well," replied Luis as he gestured in a circular motion around his head, "these are favelas."

Apparently our hostel was in the midst of a favela.

After spending two days in Rio, I can confirm that the city lived up to my expectations. The beaches were not only beautiful, but also had the best waves and most activities I have ever seen. The beaches are lined with soccer fields, volleyball nets, racquet ball, tight rope walking, and even areas for European handball. I have a love of markets, that was definitely satisfied by the numerous markets scattered along the beaches. Not to mention the fruit juices and delicious pastry shops.

Dan and I finally tried feijoada, which has been recommended to me since the first day I arrived to Brazil. Feijoada is a bean stew, mixed with a random combination of pork and beef, and usually accompanied by rice. We learned that feijoada originated from the slaves of Brazil who would combine the leftovers of the pig with beans and water. Little did everyone know what they were missing. Nowadays, feijoada is one of the most popular dishes in Brazil.

On our last day, Luis took us on a guided walk through the favela to the top of the hill where we were able to overlook the entire city. The walk took us through portions of favela houses where we were able to observe the daily lives of the Brazilian people. It was amazing to walk along the steps that they used as streets and see things firsthand.