Stay in a Safe Rio de Janeiro Favela
            
            
              A Unique Bed and Breakfast   in Tavares Bastos
            
            
              Article and photos by Lies Ouwerkerk
               
              Senior Contributing Editor
               
              Resources updated 6/7/2019 by Transitions Abroad
             
            
            
              “Are you sure  this is the right address?” asks my taxi driver in disbelief, after we have  been zigzagging uphill for about 15 minutes and have now come to a halt at the  end of a steep incline. Probably more used to bringing foreigners to Copacabana  and Ipanema beach, the trendy hoods of Lapa and Santa Teresa, and tourist  staples such as Corcovado and Sugar Loaf mountains, he had already frowned upon  hearing about my destination at the moment he was assigned to me at Rio’s  airport taxi desk.
             
            
              We verify the  address with a group of jolly construction workers, sitting on the edge of the  sidewalk during a coffee break, and exchange some pleasantries with them  through the car window. After the taxi driver has given me the OK sign, I step  out, and before I can even fully realize it, my luggage is already placed in a  wheelbarrow, and pushed into a narrow and winding alley. Not really your  ordinary way of being guided to a hotel accommodation, I guess. But then, “The Maze” is not your ordinary  B&B either.
             
            
              The Best View of Rio De Janeiro
            
            
              When Bob  Nadkarni, owner of “The Maze” came to Tavares Bastos for the first time, he  could not believe his eyes when he looked out of the window at the house of his  pregnant maid. He had offered her a ride home that day because she felt sick,  although his Brazilian roommate had strongly advised against it. As a BBC war  correspondent just having exchanged Beirut for the cidade maravilhosa (marvelous city) in the early 80’s, Bob was  indeed aware of the fact that Rio’s favelas (shanty towns), famous for their drugs, violence, and poverty, were  no-zones for outsiders.
             
            
              But once he  had discovered that breathtaking view of Guanabara Bay, Sugar Loaf Mountain,  and the cityscape below, he knew he would settle for good in Tavares Bastos,  one of the about 750 favelas scattered across Rio’s lush hilltops where roughly one fifth of Cariocas (inhabitants of Rio) reside.  Originally housing former slaves in the 19th century, Rio’s favelas had considerably expanded when a  construction boom in its affluent neighborhoods in the 70’s had caused a rural  exodus of people from poor regions all over Brazil, many without a place to go.
             
            
            
              Changing  the Face of a Favela
             
            
              Soon Bob was  carrying 50kg bags of cement through the alleyways of Tavares Bastos for months  on end, in order to eventually build a magnificent and highly unusual, white  stucco, now 9-story high building, with huge verandas to take in the most  magnificent views of Rio and surroundings. Also being a successful painter,  documentary maker, photographer, and musician, he originally used the house as  an atelier, art gallery, and film studio. But he kept building and building,  and finally added the B&B and jazz events several years ago.
             
            
            
              Bob and his  Brazilian wife Malu now employ over 30 part-time and full-time favelados, depending on season and  activities, and they lodge not only tourists from all over the world, but also  film (the Incredible Hulk was shot here) and TV crews, as well as well-known  musicians during their hugely successful monthly jazz nights.
             
            
              Before he  could fully realize his dream, however, Bob also had to join battle with the  drug lords and corrupt police officers, who tyrannized the favelados, robbed their tiny shops, and killed innocent people who  did not do what they wanted.  One day he  was able to film them in the act, and then threatened to send the clip to the  BBC for the whole world to know, using his ties with the British government to  his advantage. When a former casino building in the area became available, he  also succeeded to convince the Rio SWAT to move in. As a consequence, the  cocaine trade was eventually pushed out, and the people who had previously fled  to safety, as well as small businesses, slowly returned.
             
            
            
              New Projects
             
            
              Today, you  can also find literacy classes, a samba drum band, a ballet school and a small  classical orchestra for children & adolescents in the favela. At least 12 favela students have got into the Municipal Ballet School in the last 2 years, and  Bob’s 16 years old neighbor Aureo just entered the Orquestra Sinfonica Brasileira, and plays double bass with the MAZE  jazz band as well. As funding by government, municipality, or sponsors for  these favela schools is not always  forthcoming, revenues of the jazz nights often have to make up for it.
             
            
              Experiencing Tavares Bastos
             
            
              “It is  absolutely safe to walk around here” a cheerful and gregarious Bob Nadkarni   —   fondly called “O Grande Bobé’”  by the favelados —   reassures me  during a lavish breakfast amidst his impressive artwork. While we overlook the  Guanabara Bay and the still orange-hued sky above, in which the spectacle of a  magical sunrise has just unfolded, he adds: “that’s not to say that you can  walk into just any favela in Rio,  absolutely not! But with the police just around the corner, there is no way the  old problems will come back to Tavares Bastos.”
             
            
              
                
                   
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              “Don’t forget  to buy your bottle of water or some fruits at the shop next door, and have a  chat with the locals”, Bob also suggests.“ They are proud of their favela, and it makes them feel valued  when you want to be part of it too, instead of immediately stereotyping them as  violent, drug-using outcasts or having your camera rolling, aimed at their  poverty”. And indeed, already by the second day of my stay in Tavares Bastos,  friendly neighbors greet or lift their hand in recognition, and make a point of  showing me the exact spot for catching a kombi to downtown.
             
            
            
              Transport
             
            
              These kombis   — vans with three seating rows  constantly filled far above capacity   —   are driven by inhabitants of the favela.  It is the only affordable transport for the favelados, who pay one real (about 50 cents) for the descent,  and two reais for the return trip up  hill, much too steep to walk. Since there are only a few kombis in operation, there might be the occasional waiting time.  But not for long, though, as a few favelados owning a motorbike gladly fill the gap to earn some extra bucks. They even have  a spare helmet at hand. “A vida, não é maravilhosa?” (isn’t life beautiful?)  marvels one of them over his shoulder, when  he speeds me one morning down the hill and through busy Rua do Catete, to the bus stops on nearby Largo do Machado. 
             
            
              Trust
             
            
              My blind  trust is literally put to the test when I return late one night to “The Maze,”  after a dinner engagement elsewhere in the city. A taxi brings me back to a  pitch-black Tavares Bastos, where a  power failure has not stopped the favelados from convening outside, seated in small clusters on their folding chairs. When  I hesitate entering the obscure alleyway leading to “The Maze,” one favelado says in a reassuring voice “não tenha medo” (don’t be afraid) and  lights his cell phone to show me the narrow pathway. Then, once I advance with  trepidation into total darkness, more cell phones start lighting up, while  people leaning out of their windows give me directions as to how many steps and  curves I still have to go. Finally, a young man opens the gate of “The Maze,”  shines light on the staircase, and wishes me goodnight. O Grande Bobé’s goodwill is unmistakable.
             
            
            
              Departure
             
            
              In the early  morning of my departure day, I am waiting at the top of the steep incline for  the taxi I had reserved the night before. The combs, hats and sunglasses vendor  who is just setting up his stall, concludes with sincere concern and dismay,  after a wait of at least 10 minutes: “your ride is not showing up! I will call  an amigo taxi driver, otherwise you might miss your plane.” Two minutes later,  I throw   —   with an already surging feeling of saudade (yearning)   —   a last glance at the place where I have had some of the most warm  and touching experiences during my months in Brazil.
             
            
              The fee for  the ride comes to about half of what I had spent when I arrived weeks earlier.  The young driver is all smiles, and visibly empowered by his command of  English. “You welcome,” he says, after carrying my luggage inside the terminal,  “you good trip! And maybe come back?”
             
            
             
            
              
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                    For More Information
                   
                  
                    The Maze, R. Tavares Bastos, 414 - Casa 66, Catete, Rio de Janeiro, BRAZIL 22221-030.
                   
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              Lies Ouwerkerk is originally from Amsterdam, The Netherlands, and currently lives in Montreal,  Canada. Previously a columnist for The Sherbrooke Record, she is presently a  freelance writer and photographer for various travel magazines.
             
            
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