I walked toward my hotel and took more photos. A couple young ladies came up beside me. One of them touched my arm. “Sir, do you speak English?” I replied yes. She held her friend's arm in hers, and said, “I must tell you. What you are doing is dangerous.” At that point, I had left “the zone”, and felt a tinge of danger pass through my veins. “Thank you”, I replied.
I hugged my expensive camera tighter, feeling torn between needing safety and experiencing the full impact of Rio de Janeiro's street life. I wanted to go into all the places.
This happened one other time. I had started going down concrete stairs into a favela neighborhood, following a trail of fabulous graffiti leading into the heart of darkness. A woman coming up the stairs stopped me. Waving her finger, she frowned to indicate I must not continue. Again, I felt my creative yearning crushed by danger.
|Thumb up . . . streets of Rio de Janeiro|