Shoe shine boys and homemade bombs

Monday is my day of rest here, where I usually take it easy and have a Sabbath. Today, I walked to São Paulo’s domestic airport which is about 15 minutes from my house. I went there to look around and to check something for a friend that is coming to visit after Christmas. I found myself surprised by two things. First, was that I was able to read this month’s TIME magazine, The Economist and a bit of Newsweek in English while I blended in with the other air plane travelers in the airport news store. It’s a small thing, but a neat discovery as I miss reading print editions of news in English.
The other more noteworthy realization from my airport visit was the unexpected sight of a few people I know. I was sitting on a bench outside of the airport journaling a bit when I heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Rut, one of the guys from my soccer ministry. He sat down next to me and started to chat for a while. He was carrying a wooden device which took me a moment to recognize as a shoe shining stand. I asked him how business was and he said it was a Monday and so a slow day, not much business. As we continued to chat two other guys that I know from soccer/the neighborhood stopped by and sat down, Johnny and Felipe. We talked some trash about our big Coaches vs. Players game we have tomorrow and about the shoe shining business. These guys come to the airport every day after school for four or five hours and said on a good day they can make $20USD which is quite a good amount of money considering minimum wage here is about $200USD/month. They said they can make about $1.50 a client and on a good day shine the shoes of 20 or 30 clients. (It made me think back to my parents visit to Mexico City when my dad was conned into a $40 shoe shine.) As the guys ran off abruptly from our conversation (I think because they saw a policeman) I thought to myself what an interesting sight. A middle class white guy from the US sitting on a bench at the São Paulo airport with 3, 13-14 year old shoe shiners and not having his shoes shined, but talking to them as friends and being surprised at their occupation. I then realized that most of the kids that shine shoes and sell little pieces of candy are kids I know from my favela or one of the surrounding favelas. My experiences here are really helping me to redefine how I see people that sell things on the street or who are homeless. As I throw a tennis ball back and forth (being caught with one of those round Velcro “gloves”) in the midst of a business walking intersection of the city, I too was struck at the strangeness of the sight. Most people walking by seemed to be businessmen either ignoring completely the antics of the street kids or looking on them with disgust. I now see them as friends and the shoe shine guys too. I think I will never be able to see people the same on the street and I think that’s a good thing.
A minor note, the latest fad in my favela is the homemade bomb, a very powerful firecracker that would definitely do some damage if it went off in your hand. All day yesterday the sound of the explosions filled the favela. One time right next to the window I was standing next time causing me to jump and even be pushed back a little. I feared the glass would break, but luckily it didn’t. Just as I was thinking that its odd that no one ever complains about the 24/7 loud music and now the bombs going off two women simultaneously came out of their house and started to yell at a couple of the guys (my age) who were setting the bombs off. The guys responded that they lived in a favela, what could they expect, people that live in a favela are like this and she had better get used to it. I was struck by the defeatism of the whole thing. There is a word in Portuguese enfavelado, which means someone that lives in a favela and doesn’t really know anything outside of the favela. It is a sad and pessimistic culture which calls for low expectations; an acceptance of your favela dwelling and poverty as a permanent condition and as a result a culture of today, which glorifies drinking, drugs and criminal activity with no thoughts for the future. Its a sad reality and one I pray for often, I pray for my boys, my friends, that they might have the courage to look to something greater, to an eternal city, not an earthly one and in the process to be able to overcome the plethora of vices and traps in the favela to grow up to be successful and honorable fathers and husbands.