Madventures/Blog

No words can really prepare one for a meeting with the really dangerous and violent gangs, no matter where in the world you are.

We’ve been to Manila, we’ve been to Port Moresby, both claimed to be one of the most dangerous cities in the world at one time or another. But in Rio de Janeiro’s favelas, the feeling of threat is somehow even harsher. It’s just the sheer size of the gang turf, in this case a huge shanty maze build on a hill called Rocinha. It is possible to feel claustrophobic, yet completely overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place. What’s more, there’s a feeling of being constantly watched, which turned out to be true – more on that a bit later.

Most of the favela residents aren’t of course criminals, but ordinary, hard-working people living in a country where differences in standard of living are one of the greatest in the world. The people of favela do not necessarily have a real say-so in who is leading them. Then again, that can be said about most countries…

Anyway, our camera evoked interest but also suspicion from locals even before we reached the favela entrance. Before, we had been asked not to go this particular favela and to choose somewhere safer to film. We did shoot a few sequences in a place called Tavares Bastos, where local police presence was high. We quickly decided that it would be worth taking a risk and go to Rocinha if we wanted to capture any authentic material on tape.

A meeting with the drug traffickers was arranged up on the hills of Rocinha favela.

Yet for the most of our climb up the camera stayed in the bag – we really didn’t have any choice in the matter. We were told if we would shoot where we were not allowed to, some limbs would surely be hacked off to teach us a lesson in respecting one’s turf. It had become clear that compared to Tavares Bastos, Rocinha was a place where anything could happen.

Finally Tunna, myself and our trusty local contact Breno made it to the hills above the favela to the small outpost, where the seeming rulers of the Rocinha waited for us. We were frisked thoroughly before the interview could commence.

We brought a bottle of Finlandia vodka as a souvenir to the don and his men – well, boys really. These A.D.A. foot soldiers, already high as a kite on Jah knows what even though it was early afternoon, confiscated the bottle right away and finished it even before we had time to set our camera.

The gang members limited our camera angles very strictly, making sure we didn’t point it at the kill zone – basically the whole of Rocinha Favela below, where their scoped rifles were aimed. Just to make the place potentially more dangerous, there was a huge stash of cocaine right under our feet. We weren’t happy about the forced artistic choices, since it made the whole sequence look like it was shot in some sandpit. But then again we were not going to start arguing about framing with these duderinos.

They were the peacekeeping forces the Favela way – vengeful, intoxicated, malicious young gods watching over the populace of the slum, ready to smite down anyone with their wrath the second they strayed from the path of what passes as law and order here.

Yes, we got our interview with favela drug gang, but just barely, when the bullets started flying. Right there and then we decided to pack it up and trade what was left of our journalistic integrity for our dear lives.

R