open letter to Rio de Janeiro

Dear Rio,

Please stop.

I have been trying all year to defend you. I explained that visiting a favela is not the automatic equivalent of stray-bullet-assisted suicide, or even of wearing a MUG ME sign on my back. I noted that violence here is situational, more often based on poverty than on the desire to harm. I’ve gotten used to stuff that most people would consider paranoid, like carrying only expendable things, splitting my money among 6 different pockets, and never visiting an ATM after dark. And I’ve said again and again that in spite of all the problems, I feel incredibly lucky to live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

But we need to talk. That gunfight last night literally right outside of my apartment was NOT COOL. It doesn’t matter that I had decided to eat dinner a block away instead of in the open-air restaurant right across the street. And don’t pull that old, “oh, you didn’t even realize they were gunshots until later.” It’s true, to a point — I heard the shots and then thought, no, can’t be. But believe me, I saw the aftermath: the hijacked city bus that started it all, crashing into 2 parked cars right outside my door as the driver tried to escape; the ambulance pulling up outside the other door of my building to take care of the 2 bystanders who were hit during the indiscriminate gunfight between the police and the “bandido”; the little splatters of blood on the sidewalk.

I know I’ve been sad about the thought of leaving in 5 weeks, but if this is your way of making it easier for me to go, you need to stop. NOW. Thank you very much.

Love,

Grace