It's getting dark in Rio de Janeiro and I am at Lapa. It's friday so I am heading to my former hostel ,back where I used to be a guest and most important, where I still have fellow travellers friends, most of them working.
I am walking from”Cinelandia” metro station across”Rua do Passeio” and already I can see the poorly maintained and famous arches of Lapa, nowadays a mix of white and gray colours. Football World Cup is almost at the corner and Brasileans are struggling on repairs to avoid the inevitable: Failing at hosting the biggest sport event on earth.
As I am crossing “Rua do Passeio” to get onto “Praça Cardeal Câmara” I am reminded why been here haunted me so much. I am already at “Praça Cardeal Càmara” and I stumble into a big and wide corridor surrounded of food and drink stands. I can feel the frying “churrasco” and the fresh “caipirinhas” along a numerous group of “gringos” and “cariocas” getting along perfectly. I stop by Sandro’s , he is italian.
“Hey Sandro all good? ” I ask in my hispanicided portuguese, portuguese nevertheless.
“Hey all good Chile!” While he shakes my hand.
“I am going to order what is the name again…?” While i point a stick covered on raw meat, mint and onion.
“Kafta!” He says smiling.
” Yes, I want two of those”
“Ok amigo” As he grabs two Kafta from a tray , putting them over on a black gas griddle ,not before pouring a pinch of brasilean olive oil.
I start to smell fried meat.
“It's such a pity Italian olive oil here is so expensive. You won’t believe it the smell!” He complains and gets emotional doing a gesture with his hand while he throws a kiss to his beloved olive oil.
” I believe you” I said, first hesitating and then quitting to tell them again about my month in Italy.
I take my two four reals kafta, which are not bad but not worth to be loyal to Sandro forever. I continue to walk through the stands while I am crossing the arches and I get on to “Rua riachuelo and “Avenida Mem de Sá” joint. There is plenty of pubs and clubs whether I walk from one street or another, I decide to go through “Riachuelo”, I do not have money for a pub and I am going to get a beer on Farias Ribeiro schop.
Each step taken through “Riachuelo” the pissier the smell gets. But I am already used to and ”Farias Ribeiro” is only one block away. As I am almost there I notice Frank on the first row of the line.
“Hey Frank! How is it going? Could you get me one Itaipava latâo?” I ask in English. Frank is from Kansas City.
“Hey Nicolás! For sure man, just a sec” Frank said kindly and not surprised to see me. We used to be former guests from the hostel we are going.
“Gracias” I replied to Frank in Spanish, he lived six months in Madrid and speaks good spanish.
I am waiting for my beer while someone touch my shoulder. I turn around and I see Rapahel.
“Hey man all good?” I ask surprised but happy. Raphael is a thin “moreno” from Lapa, which means not poor but not rich, who I used to practice my portuguese with, when I just arrived to Lapa.
” All good “Valdivia”!” He says. For him I am “Valdivia”, a chilean football player who is probably the only chilean he knows.
” Hey i am just about to smoke, you come over? ” He asks laughing referring to weed.
” I can use a little” I answer.
A minute after Frank shows up, so I catch him up about the situation, he is joining us.
With Rapahel leading us we head out “Farias Ribeiro” to the block across the street. After one hundred steep metres we sat down on the steps of the outside four floor building where I suppose he knows someone.
“Hey Valdivia! You watched Flamengo against Vasco?” Asking me for the final of Rio de Janeiro football cup. The conversation is in portuguese.
“I did! I went to the stadium, poor Vasco” I said.
” Hahaha always second those faggots, I told you every team apart from Flamengo are “viados”(gays) ” He said while he smokes.
“That is so funny about you brasileans, Rio de Janeiro is the gay capital of Southamerica and you keep saying everyone is gay as an insult” I said.
” You gay Valdivia?” Rapahel Ask smiling.
” You are! At least I do not use a “sunga”(swim-trunks) on the beach, viado! ” I answer following his lead.
Frank Laughs, we have talked about this little differences in Brasil.
“Yes, because you have no “caralho” (pennis) to show” He attacks again.
“You caught me” I said laughing.
We have finished to smoke and after a few more non sense chit-chat we decide to split up.
“Hey man, you have more weed? I can buy you personally. ” Ask Frank in his very good portuguese to Raphael.
“No man, I was only sharing and having a laughter. Maybe I have, but not for you anymore” He said serious.
“Bye Valdivia” He saids while leaving.
“Bye Raphael and thanks” I said.
“What a jerk!” Frank saids furious and surprised after Raphael leaves.
“You still don’t understand, money sometimes is not the main currency” I finish.
