Marvelous... city?

The trip to Rio is a big unknown. Since deciding to go 8 months ago, I’ve pushed it out of site/out of mind until now. Asked for time off last week and got it after some bull-shitting. “It’s a present from my GF, ya know, and well, she’s leaving NY in the summer and this is our last trip together --- I know, it’s 11 days, but I can check emails at night and.. and I won’t be completely gone.” And so it’s now in ink, etched into some future memories of mine (as well as the office calendar): Rio and Carnaval and the temptations of the southern Continent. Girls in fio dentals covering their asses and beaches surrounded by mountains, punctuated by opaled lakes and the freedoms of a people infused by a thousand different genealogies.

I bought a guide the other day and asked some people about this city Marvelosa. “Ever seen City of God? The movie?” – “Nope” – “Well, watch it.” Then the email from Vinicio, who’s planning the trip from his outpost in Chile. “Stay in the tourist areas when you get there and wait for me. Don’t bring a camera on the streets. They’ll kill ya for your sneakers. Don’t be adventurous and try to explore the favelas. Don’t wear jewelry or nice clothes. Take cabs! We’re gonna have a lot of fun!”

What the fuck.

Another person and another story. “Yeah, I was in a group of guys backpacking through the city and we were getting on a public bus. A group of guys came up to us and demanded all our stuff -- By the way, don’t carry anything valuable on ya. Keep your credit cards at home. Take, like $15 and divide it between your pockets and socks. Don’t take your IDs with ya. You have a nice SLR? Don’t pack that. Actually, don’t even wear your watch. If you have some crummy watch, that’s ok. So anyways, we all handed our stuff to this gang except for this Brit. And now, we were pretty big guys, so the Brit was acting tough for these young punks. And he had in his backpack a video camera. And all the people on the bus, the locals, were saying, ‘Give them the bag, give them the bag! Don’t mess with them! And the look in their eyes were wide open with… something. And this was on a public bus!”

“If you go swimming on the beaches --- and fuckin’ Jesus Christ, they’re amazing... and the girls!—if all of you go in the water, they’ll just rifle through your stuff man...Oh yeah, and down Impanema and Copacabana, ya know, the touristy spots during Carnaval, if you see hot college looking chicks, and they’re fuckin’ hot man, they’re all prostitutes. You’re going with your GF? Well, tell the guys you’re with... they’re all for sale -- but don’t do it cause it can get you in some nasty shit. But the beaches man… they’re real nice. Check out Barra – it’s pronounced ‘Baja’, double r’s are like the Spanish ‘j’. All the locals go there and it’s really great…”

So I’m reading the guide and thinking, “What the fuck.” I’ve traveled to a lot of places but have never heard the amount of caution reserved for Rio. Can’t be worse than Cambodia or Thailand, can it? I mean, these are just tourists talking. Every city has its shady spots. What about Carnaval? The Bacchanalian festival of Whatever the Fuck we Wanna Do we’ll Do It? The colors and the women and the food? The jungles rising from the mountains and the blue sweeping ocean stretching out from the curving beaches? The history plus architecture? I’ve heard so many good things about Rio before I hunkered down and looked at the logistics. There are those good qualities too, right?

Put on a backpack and grab my boots – everything will be fine and lovely and beyond stupendous, darling.