Josh Meyer

Senior, environmental studies

Meyer

Photo by Douglas Engle

            "The rich want peace to continue being rich...we want peace to continue living."  

            I can't describe the feeling that these words make you feel when you see them spray-painted on the entrance to Dona Marta. It makes you wonder, "Why am I wandering into this neighborhood known for violence in the first place when I could stay comfortably outside?" If you plan on spending any considerable amount of time in Dona Marta, it's a good idea to start thinking of an answer to that question, because you will be asked it several times.

            The first thing that surprised me, and what stays to me to this day, was that amid the poverty and crime, I felt a strange sense of civility. Here we were, a group of foreigners in the midst of such extreme poverty, yet no one tried to take advantage of us or harm us.   Throughout the project, we would leave objects of value lying around, and no one stole anything. When we bought food, no one tried to rip us off. When we walked by the traffickers' checkpoints, they would often recognize us and put their weapons out of sight, out of courtesy. I quickly realized that this was not the most dangerous place to be, no matter what I had thought after watching "City of God."  

            For me, the friendships that formed over the short time outweighed everything. I had worked in Europe for a couple of years and still never felt as welcome there as I did in Dona Marta. The people there were just happy to get to know us. They never complained about the U.S. or harass us for being Americans. Instead, they were interested in getting to know us, in learning from us, and in teaching us about their world. While we were there, the town had a big party called a "June Festival," even though it was August. We hadn't originally planned on going since Viva Rio, the organization that gave us assistance in Dona Marta, stipulated that we had to be out by sunset every day. However, since it was a community festival and it was at the entrance, they allowed us to go. It was amazing to see the costumes and preparation put into this event. The people from the community that we were working with were so happy that we came. I'm glad I got a chance to experience a side of Rio that almost no tourists ever see.

            No amount of discussion can prepare you for the situations you run into there. One day Gabriel, one of our friends, invited us to walk up to the Christ statue. It was the day the reporter from the Chronicle was with us. After we finished our work, we ate a late lunch and started climbing. When we finally made it to the lookout above Dona Marta, which is a tourist stop on the way to the statue, the view was beautiful. I turned around, however, to see the tourist police harassing Gabriel and his two friends. The police could tell by their clothing that they were from the favela. When Elisa told the police that we were all together, they left them alone -- they didn't want foreigners to see anything unfavorable. As we continued to the statue, Gabriel's two friends told me stories about being harassed by the police since they were young. The police might be frustrated that they couldn't catch a trafficker, and instead they would abuse innocent kids to act as if they had caught their suspect. Gabriel's friends had been beaten many times for doing nothing more than being young. They told us that had we not been there, the same might have happened that day.

            I was often asked by people outside Dona Marta, especially those who had done work with a non-profit, "Why do you think your project will work?" They said they didn't want to be discouraging, but they explained to me that nothing would ever change in there. After seeing what I saw in there and meeting the people that I met, I find it hard to believe that nothing will ever change. That made me want to work harder, to learn more, to try more. I refuse to believe that with everything that humans are capable of, we are incapable of making the world a better place for all, of erasing poverty, and allowing everyone the opportunity to live without the fear of violence taking their life. After hearing the stories of police, the Brazilian SWAT, and the traffickers, I realized that no one wants that violence and that everyone wants a safer world, for them, for their children. In the end of the day, everyone wants to return home safely.

            This experience offered me so much more than any classroom lecture ever could.   I could discuss these issues all I want on campus and argue with numerous people about what I would do in a given situation. This project gave me the chance to see what I actually would do, and also how the people whom I was trying to help would react to what I did.   It no longer sufficed to point the finger and blame someone else. Any failure was a direct result of my actions. I was glad to see that my knowledge was welcomed. I was also glad that I got to experience a sense of community that I had never felt before. It made me realize that we are not all that different. The wealthy people of Ipanema don't want to live in fear of being assaulted any more than the people of Dona Marta want to worry about a war breaking out in their community. I guess, deep down inside, we all want peace to continue living.

Related Links:

Planting seeds of hope

Lauren Bolinger's experience, in the first person

Marion Lloyd's Chronicle of Higher Education article