On experiencing the two sides of Rio

Monday, our final day in Rio, was the day we set out to conquer Rio's infamous icon: Cristo Redentor. I had read up on the best way to experience the statue and get to (etc.), but frankly had come away from my book very confused. Enter Scott: "Let's just ask the front desk."

Ah, good idea. After an extensive talk with them, we were off to the train station. We left the desk with clarity (at least I think Scott did... I was still confused). Upon our arrival at the train station, there was no sign of trains, or even train tracks. A man came up to us, pointed to the statue far off in the distance and then pointed to his van. Scott shrugged and started following him. I lagged behind in horror, trying to tell Scott this is how gringos die in movies, but he was ever the trusting tourist.

At this point, I was remembering something from my book about vans, and I just couldn't remember if we were supposed to get into the vans or avoid them. We got into the van. And then so did a few other people. I breathed a sigh of relief, realizing Scott had been right after all.

Three minutes later, we pulled up to a building and the doors of the van were opened. We got out and were pointed to a ticket counter. We bought tickets and then were hustled back into the van. My anxiety began to return as I realized that no one in the van knew what was going on. I could go on with a detailed account of my confusion throughout the whole process of reaching the statue, but I will attempt to just hit the highlights.

Our next stop was a beautiful lookout of the city of Rio...

From Sugarloaf Mountain (that we had been on two days before) to the beaches and bays to the slums to Christ the Redeemer... we didn't miss a single thing. As we walked back to where the van was, we realized that there were five other vans there as well - through Scott's Spanish (it proved more helpful than English and hand waving at least) we found ourselves in yet another van, steadily climbing toward the statue.

And then another ticket... and another van. And then an elevator, then an escalator... and then the most rewarding view EVER:

After several vans down the mountain (I counted seven in total from start to finish of this excursion), we found ourselves back at the hostel. Andrew and Ben, two of the New Zealanders (otherwise known as "Kiwis" for whatever reason...), mentioned that they were off to take a tour of a favela.

What is a "Favela" you may ask... It is quite literally: the slums. Favelas are run by drug lords and gangs.

It had been on Scott and I's "To Do" list (granted we had been thinking more of a guided tour, but same difference). Our friend Andrew decided he could do just as good of a job at guiding us, so he immediately took the lead. I learned quite a lot. Take a look:

In order to get to the favela, you have to take an elevator because the slums are literally on the side of the mountain. Once you get to the top, there is a lookout enclosed in glass where you can safely look at the favela. 

There was a girl, Suellen, standing in there (we later figured out her name after Ben and I called her "Smelly" several times... close enough, right?). After a thirty second conversation (with Andrew speaking English and Suellen speaking in Portugese), Andrew somehow convinced her to go to the favela with us.

So we trustily followed our guide, and let me tell you, IT WAS TERRIFYING. It was like something out of a movie. People just sitting on stoops and staring at us. After a few minutes, people started to follow us, then shouts of "gringo!" ensued. We just looked at each other with apprehensive expressions as Andrew happily continued to lead us through the winding stairs. It was almost impossible to not step on all of the crap (quite literally: poop) that was all over the stairs.

After about ten minutes my heart began to pound. I looked at Scott, and was like "we're definitely lost." Ben was giving me frantic looks. And just when I thought we might die in the slums, we somehow came back out at the entrance. 

Andrew gave us a grin and ordered beer for all of us at the little shack. As we stood there, the crowd surrounding us began to grow. We grabbed our beer and RAN.

Scott, Ben and I ran and ran until we were at the bottom of the mountain. As soon as we made it out, we realized Andrew and Suellen weren't with us. Ben said he would be fine, soooo we left. He got out of there eventually...

Why was he not there, you ask? Because he had to check-in on Facebook.

Once we were reunited, we headed to the beach to spend the last of our money on coco locos. Scott mentioned that we should leave a couple of times, but I just laughed him off.

At about the time that we should have been getting into a car for the airport, we left the beach and headed back to the hostel to shower and pack.

We grabbed another round of coco locos for the car ride. And by that I mean, we went to the grocery store and somehow convinced them to open coconuts for us. Bought a bottle of vodka, and made our own coco locos.

After a stressful ride to the airport in unforeseen traffic, we arrived. After they tried to tell Scott he was too late, he convinced them otherwise, and then attempted to walk through security with his coconut.

It was a valid attempt.

Oh, and in case you're wondering what ever became of Andrew...