The site of Cordovil, a community located in Rio’s North Zone, is bleak and neglected. The streets flood when it rains and pollutants, from the already clogged drains, back the water up and create what residents refer to as the “little lake” in the streets. This lake, Irenaldo describes, is filled with hazardous waste and trash, and acts as a breeding ground for mosquitoes and disease-causing bacteria. In addition, the only “green space” in the community of 3000 people, is one paved courtyard, enclosed in a chain-link fence, surrounded by Avenida Brasil, one of the largest roadways in the city, on one side, and an overflowing trash dump on the other.

As kids play soccer in the courtyard and a hungry dog picks through the trash, Irenaldo describes the need for leisure space in the community. He states that there are at least 1600 youth in Cordovil, and this courtyard, which lacks trees, playing equipment and tables, is the only place for people to gather and foster the idea of community. Cordovil has grown since it was founded in 1962 because of its location. The community is relatively near the city center, where most jobs in Rio are based. In addition, it is situated near Linha Vermelha, a main artery of the city’s roadway system, and many bus stops along Avenida Brasil.

Government’s neglect of the community is hard to explain. One would think that the high percentage of crack-cocaine users and open sewage would put it on the government’s radar as an area in need of investment and urgent attention.

Cordovil residents tend to be of northeastern Brazilian descent, having come to Rio looking for work and finding no option of affordable housing. As is frequently they case, they set up makeshift houses, one on top of the other, without any aid from the city.

Antônio is a resident of Cordovil, and lives in one of the unstable houses on the hillside. His father built his house, and he has been helping renovate it since he was a boy. “Since I was 18, I have been working a bit, saving money to buy materials to continue building the house and then returning to work to save more,” Antônio explains. Although he is proud of the work he and his father have put into the house, he continues to describe the structural problems. The house sits on an incline, and neither he nor his father were prepared to build the house as soundly as necessary.

Community members express their frustration as Rio moves forward, investing in public works and renovations in preparation for the 2014 World Cup and 2016 Olympic Games. Irenaldo sighs with resignation as he acknowledges the attention and infrastructure being put in other communities like Santa Marta and Cantagalo, in Rio’s chic South Zone, as he looks out over Cordovil at the man-made water lines and unstable buildings. He points over the ledge to the last piece of city infastructure that was invested in in Cordovil: a fence in the middle of the hill, between falling houses, used to stop houses and stones from continuing to slide down the mountain.

Cordovil’s case will be featured in Catalytic Communities’ film, “Favelas as a Sustainable Model,” to be launched during the Rio+20’s People’s Summit in June.

Clothing brands, designers, and producers have once again excluded black beauty from the runways, as Fashion Rio launches its new collections for Summer 2013. Young black professionals who deserve the chance to be part of the cast of the runway shows and fashion week events are kept out of this professional space. This despite an agreement made with the agency in charge of hiring, which promised to set aside a percentage of jobs for black models. The clothing companies did not honor the agreement.

Educafro denounced the discrimination with yet another protest:

“Close to 20 people staged a protest against racial prejudice outside of Fashion Rio, the city’s fashion week, taking place between Tuesday, May 22 and Saturday, May 26 at the Jockey Club in Gavea. The protesters called for more black models in the runway shows, and said they had not noticed an increase in casting in recent years. ‘The fashion weeks need to realize that we are 51% of the Brazilian population, so at least 20% of the models onstage should be black. And at the moment we’re not even close,’ said Frei David, executive director of Educafro.”

Organized by Agência de Notícias da Favela, the event Ritmo e Poesia (Rhythm and Poetry) has been bringing together poetry from the asfalto, ‘asphalt’ or formal city, with poetry from the favela, or informal city, in a fortnightly explosion of beats and rhyme since August last year. Poets, rappers and hip hop artists from all sides of Rio spit words in an innovative open mic event that brings them into one of the city´s most dangerous and marginalized communities.

Arriving in Praça da Concórdia at nightfall, the sound system and stage is set with the base track´s throbbing bass and compere Dudu Pereré reciting biting poetry under the streams of fluttering bunting that cover the square. Member of the Lapa poetry collective Ratos di Versos, Dudu´s engaging presence and effortless gliding between poetry, hip hop and funk has held the open mic vibe together since the event´s humble soundbox and a mic beginnings. From odes to the power of words to funk raps citing wealthy neighborhood Leblon, government benefit program Bolsa Familia and Louis Vuitton bags in the same breath, Dudu’s vocal delivery and sharp wit make him a perfect host of an event that mixes worlds of words.

Inequality, police brutality, violence and corruption are common themes amongst the poets and rappers who take to the mic. Last Thursday, hip hop artist from Caxias, Pevirguladez performed his track ´Eles Não Moram No Morro´ – a savage verbal attack on police and government treatment of the favela set to a samba inflected backing track – to a whooping crowd. Negra Ré, a fiery female rapper from Favela Arara and REP regular, delivered tight rhymes with a singalong chorus on the theme of money: “If you don´t have it, you’re ******.”

While social commentary forms a powerful theme amongst performers, self expression, cultural celebration and narratives of the everyday are all popular subjects. BBQs, the beach, partying and love for Rio de Janeiro all get a nod from Cantagalo´s Raylton and Tigrin flowing descriptions of the vida louca.

At one point a group of young kids bursts into the center of the square and court the microphone as Dudu passes it round for them to shout their line at a time. A guest rapper then launches into funk classic ´Eu só quero é ser feliz´ with the youngsters singing enthusiastically along to the lyrics ´All I want is to be happy, to walk in peace in the community where I was born.´

Their community, Jacarezinho, lacks peace. The third largest favela in Rio after Rocinha and Complexo do Alemão, Jacarezinho is often cited as one of the city’s poorest and most dangerous. Having successfully resisted removal several times in its 90-year history, Jacarezinho today is marked by a lack of government services, the strong presence of the heavily-armed controlling drug faction and its business, and frequent police invasions.

Holding a hip hop and poetry event in this context is a type of cultural resistance, says Ritmo e Poesia filmmaker Samuca whose website Rio Underbelly explores the often undiscussed sides of the city: “It´s about opening the doors to one of the most feared and maligned favelas in Rio to show the qualities that exist in non pacified favelas and its type of cultural defense to counter the almost weekly raids by BOPE and CORE. It´s a forum for liberal expression, artistic communication and dissemination of news.”

Organizer André Fernandes from Agência de Notícias das Favelas agrees, saying “We wanted to do something no one else was doing, bringing cultural [exchange] in before the police come in.” He goes on to praise participants from the community and emphasize the potency of viewing favela lyrical forms as poetry. He says, “People think it´s [just] rap, hip hop and funk but we can see that they´re poets. There are a lot of poets in the favela.”

While last Thursday´s event marked the last Ritmo e Poesia with support from the State Secretary of Culture, André and his team plan to continue the event in the new location of Morro Azul, the hill where the Jacarezinho favela was first founded, with the next edition on Thursday May 31st, starting at 8PM.

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Founded by Cristina Costa in 2005, ACONDEC aims to improve the lives of residents in Complexo da Penha through community development. Complexo da Penha, referred to simply as Penha, is located in Rio’s dramatically underserved North Zone. Like many communities in Rio, Penha faces challenges of access, government support and equal opportunity. But, as Cristina puts it, in Penha one of the biggest challenges is that most government support, or social programs, invested in that area of the city are going towards Complexo do Alemão: Penha’s bigger and more infamous neighbor. Alemão was notorious for drug trafficking and therefore has been in the limelight, both locally and internationally, for the past few years. This has brought a Pacifying Police Unit (UPP) to Alemão, along with other investments. But neighboring communities, Penha being a prime example, have been overlooked.

Keeping this in mind, Cristina has made a home for ACONDEC and its various projects in Complexo da Penha. Currently the grassroots organization is working to establish the idea of rights and obligations in the mindset of residents. ACONDEC offers classes in mathematics, health, formal portuguese, and most recently, recycling. Through these Cristina and her organization have empowered community members, not only by educating them about their rights, but also how their actions and responsibilities as citizens can affect and help transform Penha into a cleaner and more sustainable community.

Today ACONDEC is focusing attention on tackling waste. Like most favelas in Rio, trash collection is a recurring and central issue, mainly due to lack of regular government collection services. In Penha however, ACONDEC has taken to the streets with their Caminhada Ecologica, or Eco-walk, and used this project as an initiative to educate residents about the importance of recycling and trash collection. The organization is motivating community members to be more conscious about how they separate their trash and to reduce the quantity overall, as well as use recyclable materials. This new emphasis on sustainability is being taught in a way that emphasizes the obligations residents have, as part of the community of Penha, to care for it and improve it together for future generations.

Cristina notes she already sees change in the community, like young people picking garbage off the street and putting it in the proper container, even when they think no one is looking. This new sense of pride is what ACONDEC hopes to continue building.

Thanks to ACONDEC, Penha is one of eight communities to be featured in Catalytic Communities’ film, “Favelas as a Sustainable Model,” to be launched during the Rio+20’s People’s Summit in June.

Rumor has it that the construction site and work being done are in a risky area, and that the soil is too unstable for such heavy a job – because, despite the hotel to-be having only two floors, there will also be rooftop pool.

And, behold: on Wednesday, an article was published by the newspaper O Globo in which the architect exposed his innovative vision: “Vidigal was always the senzala (slave quarters) of the great house of Ipanema and Leblon. Now everyone can explore the area and discover what’s in the area, which is wonderful.”

Using that old interpretation technique that I learned in primary school, I now analyze his words:

“Now everyone can explore the area and discover what’s in the region”: I can point out two inaccuracies there. The first is that not “everybody” can attend a 5 star “luxury” hotel. And, in fact, many people who are really looking for a Vidigal for “everyone” have been working against real estate overvaluation, the now-famous “white removal” (gentrification), which subtly pushes residents away from the community.

It is important to let people know that “everybody” can ALREADY discover the wonders of Vidigal–its walking trails, its bars, restaurants, festivals and nightlife, without the presence of said hotel. It’s all here and there are many people coming up the hill. Even more than the present road infrastructure can support, actually.

Next, “slaves of the big house of Ipanema”: this shows a somewhat colonial and particularly ignorant vision of the Vidigal community. The architect might not know of the rich cultural life that has always existed here, ever since the hill was occupied… the organized dances of the Águia Futebol Clube (Eagle Football Club) which congested the former Estrada do Tambá (Tambá Road) – currently known as Estrada Presidente Goulart – when people from middle class neighborhoods went up the hill, as they still do today, benefitting from the cultural life in Vidigal. You may not have heard of our celebrations, which, combined, can attract up to 1200 people in one night. The Lamparina (or Luv) parties and the festivities of Alto Vidigal, right there on Arvrão.

Yet another mention that deeply bothered me was saying that the new construction “is playing a role in sustainability,” and that it is “innovative and will thus help the people around learn of recycling and reusing possibilities,” as said Mr. Antonio Rodriguez, a business partner of Pellegrino. Perhaps he should be introduced to the activities of Sitiê Vidigal, where trash becomes furniture, or even to Wilson Alexandre, who built an entire residential condominium made with recycled material (photo).

The Vidigal Residents Association also issued its opinion. They are in favor of external investment that helps develop local tourism. However, due to Vidigal’s current infrastructure, they question the development of “super projects” like this one.

I am a resident who’s happy with Vidigal’s economic growth, but also offended by the limited and colonialist vision expressed by Mr. Hélio Pellegrino.

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Two years on from the first announcements that their houses would be cleared to make way for World Cup 2014 developments, residents of Favela do Metrô are still living through the brutal, drawn out destruction of their community.

A stone’s throw from the world famous Maracanã stadium, Favela do Metrô was founded 33 years ago by workers from the Northeast of Brazil hired to build the adjacent Maracanã metro station from which the favela takes its name. Situated at the foot of the much larger and well-known Mangueira favela, Metrô was in 2010 home to over 700 families and 126 businesses, mostly auto repairs and mechanics that line the main highway.

Speaking in the forecourt entrance to the community, in front of a wall marked ‘[Mayor] Eduardo Pães and [Housing Secretary] Bittar [are] enemies of the people,’ Francecleide Costa, president of the Favela do Metrô Resident’s Association explains the demoralizing process the community has undergone: “In July 2010 City officials entered the community spraypainting numbers on the houses, making notes and taking photos. We realized we were going to have to leave. We didn’t know what to do.”

Standing near a reeking, overflowing Comlurb garbage skip, left abandoned by the City which has ceased providing basic municipal services, despite 300 families still on site, Francecleide continues: “People have their whole lives here, their house, school, work, and then someone comes along saying you don’t have the right to live here anymore.”

Official announcements and pressure to leave followed, with replacement housing offered under the Minha Casa Minha Vida iniative in the West Zone neighborhood of Cosmos, over 70km from Favela do Metrô. Buckling under pressure, 107 families moved to Cosmos in December 2010.

Community resistance aided by the state’s public defenders office, the Catholic church, and international press attention secured replacement housing nearby in the new Mangueira 1 and 2 apartment developments. 248 families moved to Mangueira 1 last year, with remaining residents scheduled to be moved either to Mangueira 2, due for completion in the next couple of months, or at the next metro stop in Triagem.

Whilst residents have fought evictions, the City has gone ahead demolishing houses left behind by residents taken to Cosmos and Mangueira 1. Currently, the skeleton of a once vibrant community lives precariously amidst the rubble.

Walking through the community, washing lines hang over the garbage and rubble where neighbor’s houses once stood. Francecleide laments the current situation: “Light (the electricity utility) and Comlurb (waste collection) don’t come here anymore. We have to call and call to get them to take away the garbage piles. It’s very difficult to live with. It’s ugly and dirty. There are lots of mosquitos, Dengue and rats. I run through here at night because I’m terrified of the rats.”

Abandoned and half demolished houses have attracted homeless people to the community. “A lot of people have come trying to sign up for relocations. It creates a lot of tensions in the community. They don’t help with community trash collection. They just make things worse.”

Walking further away from the metro station, the number of houses standing decreases, leaving remaining residents isolated among cleared spaces filled with rubble and semi-demolished structures where drug use, prostitution and robbery have become commonplace at night. 78 year old Sebastiane de Souza was robbed at her home, currently opening out onto a large cleared space. “I’m scared to go out,” she says. “We’re alone here. We’re in God’s hands now.”

Approximately half the community has already left. Of those that moved to Cosmos, the dislocation from their places of work, as well as friends and schools, has been difficult.

Sebastião had lived in the community for 25 years before moving to Cosmos in 2010. Pointing to the cleared area where his home once stood, he says “Everything I have is here. I work here and now I have to leave at 5am to get here on time.” He goes on, “[The authorities] have thrown us to the side.”

Following the initial abrupt eviction of 107 families to Cosmos, the 600 or so remaining families resisted, counting on help from the State Public Defenders and the Catholic Church. The international media and human rights organizations also brought attention to their struggle.

As a result, others have been moved close by, to the 248-unit Mangueira 1 housing complex. Some complain of poor construction. Rosa Silveira, also a resident for 25 years, moved to Mangueira 1 fourteen months ago. She says: “I used to have a good house with a garage. They removed us for nothing. I wanted it to be better. There are cracks in my apartment and when it rains there are leaks. It’s difficult. A lot of people are angry.”

For those left living in the half-demolished favela, it’s a case of waiting for Mangeira 2 and housing in Triagem. Francecleide believes the destruction of houses and subsequent neglect, as well as the removal of community leaders, are part of a strategy to weaken resistance of those that want to stay. It has worked. Francecleide, who exudes dignified strength as she guides us through the community she’s fought to save, admits to being overwhelmed by the situation. “I never thought I’d say this but I’m ready to leave,” she says. “It’s unbearable and it hurts a lot.”

The actual plans for the area after the final evictions haven’t been made public, however it’s believed to become a parking lot in preparation for the 2014 World Cup.

“For me, the World Cup means messing with the poor and taking away people’s rights,” says Franceleide, going on to cite the evictions in townships in South Africa for the 2010 Cup. She pauses. “But we only really feel it when it’s us, right?”

Made visible for the first time around 40 years ago in Bhutan, the GNH index – Gross National Happiness – is an alternative to the GDP – Gross Domestic Product – and endeavors to measure a country’s development rate through non-monetary activities, such as general well-being, balanced time use, freedom of expression, family relationships and the relationship with the environment.

Last Friday, May 4, a news report produced by the Rio Reporter TV program, appeared on television talking of the GNH, with the participation of economist and Cieds President Vandré Brilhante. The TV station’s request for the guest speaker arose in view of Vandré’s participation as a member of the Brazilian committee in the United Nations’ official discussion on the theme, which occurred in early April in New York.

In an interview to TV Brasil, Vandré said that happiness indicators could be adapted to Brazil’s reality. “Brazil certainly can adopt Bhutan’s model, determining that its people’s happiness is related to access to health care, education, security and balance of time for work and for personal leisure.”

Cieds, in partnership with the the Future Vision Institute, is organizing a seminar entitled Happiness: New Indicators for Development, one of the activities occurring in parallel to the Rio+20 Conference. The seminar is expected to happen on June 19. The TV Brasil piece, which also includes an interview with the creator of Myfuncity – an application that measures the population’s satisfaction with local living surroundings with the intent of orienting public policies – can be seen here:

The start of March marks the end of summer, disappointing those Rio locals (cariocas) who frequent the beaches, swimming pools and other sun traps. For many workers, the arrival of fall can be a relief. That is the case for mailman Cléber Saraiva, who works in downtown Bangu. During his shift, carrying a heavy weight and wearing a stifling uniform, he goes from street to street in two of Rio’s hottest neighborhoods. Cléber gets doubly tired working in the summer: “there are days when I get home and it feels like my head is exploding.”

The scolding heat in Bangu is not anything new for this summer. The neighborhood, in the western part of Rio, is known for its high temperatures. And for good reason: Bangu holds the record of 43.1°C (110°F), reached in 1984, the highest temperature ever registered by INMET (National Meteorological Institute or Brazil) in Rio. Tadeu Santos, who lives in the neighborhood and studies in the Ilha do Fundão, notices the difference in temperature between the two places: “Fundão, hot though it is, is always a little fresher than Bangu.”

Some geographical peculiarities make the neighborhood one of the hottest places in Rio de Janeiro. Its distance from the sea, which is a lot compared with many other parts of the city. Also, the area of Bangu is situated between two big landmasses: the Gericinó and Pedra Branca ranges. Pedra Branca, to the south, forms a giant wall that prevents the sea breeze from getting to the area. Being “confined” between these two ranges makes Bangu conducive to “heat islands.”

Claudison Rodrigues, the coordinator of the educational and scientific program at the Museum of the Environment, defines heat islands as “places where the temperature is higher than in other places due to less green space, lower air circulation and lots of roads.” This is a phenomenon that is unique to big cities – such as Rio – where the average temperature tends to be higher than in nearby rural regions.

According to a study on the thermal setting of Rio de Janeiro – written by Ana Maria Brandão and José Roberto Tarifa – the neighborhoods situated between the mountains “suffer from the influence of the katabatic warming of air, and they are subject to frequent periods of calm or light winds.” Katabatic is a type of wind that moves air from a high elevation down the slopes of the hills due to gravitational pull. The authors of the study go on to say that it is those topographic characteristics that make “the place famous for recording very high temperatures, often passing 40°C (104°F) in the summer.”

As with the above analysis, geographer Andrews José de Lucena – a researcher into the thermal patterns in western Rio – has identified a system of winds that are “frequently and exclusively in the Bangu valley area,” which he calls the Fohn effect. “Fohn or Chinook is a strong, dry and hot wind that develops downwind from a mountain range when stationery air is forced to pass over the mountains.” These two studies characterize the Bangu region as an area that sees a hot and dry wind form as a direct result of the mountain ranges that are nearby.

Sunny days, but bad sleep at night

The high temperatures have interfered with the quality of life of those who live in the area, making their daily lives more tiring and often affecting sleep. Tadeu, for example, notes that it is at bedtime that the heat is most uncomfortable. Without air conditioning at home, he takes a few measures to get some sleep: “to sleep in this weather I need an ice bath, at least two fans and as little clothing as possible.”

For this reason, it is at nighttime that the highest number of fans and air conditioning units are switched on full-blast. The hotter it is, the higher the demand on the electrical energy distribution system. It is likely that this demand was the reason behind two blackouts in Padre Miguel – a neighborhood next to Bangu – on February 28 and 29. Sheila Garcia, a local resident, describes what happened: “the lights went out around 10pm while I was watching TV. It was really hot during the day, and I couldn’t sleep until the power came back on.” According to Sheila, the electricity didn’t come back on until around two hours later, at midnight.

She also mentions the rise in electricity bills in the summer. Sheila compares how much she spent in November, a spring month, with January – the month with typically the highest average temperatures: “in November, my bill was R$64; in January it was R$83”. The difference in charges represents an increase of over 30%. For her, the explanation lies with the heat: “we have the fan on the entire night. That costs at the end of the month.”

Environmental Problems: unsustainable development and the deforestation of Pedra Branca

Besides the natural conditions of the neighborhood, the excess of heat in Bangu can be related to the human presence in the region that has intensified since the 1960s. Currently, Bangu is the second most populous neighborhood in Rio after its nearby relative, Campo Grande. According to data from 2010, from the Geo Portal run by Rio’s Pereira Passos Institute, there are currently 243,125 residents.

Lucena indicates that there was a more than 1°C (1.8°F) increase in average temperature in the 1980s and 1990s. The formation of heat islands is caused not only by the presence of roads and buildings but also by air pollution caused by greenhouse gases. Despite being a predominantly residential area, Bangu has high traffic levels throughout the main streets that run downtown.

The author also identified “significant losses in the vegetation coverage of Pedra Branca and Gericinó due to the expansion of occupancy of the hillsides” as one of the factors responsible for the rise in temperature. Amongst these environmental harms, the Pedra Branca State Park stands out. It is considered the largest forest reserve in an urban environment anywhere in the world and it contains the highest point in the city of Rio: the Pedra Branca Peak, at an elevation of 1,025 meters.

According to the Friends of Pedra Branca Park website, the process of favela occupation is also increasing throughout the area. The site also calls attention to the exploitation of the land caused by quarries, burnings and deforestation to make way for pastures and the expansion of crop harvesting. All of this has contributed to the decrease in green space in the Park which despite being protected by a rigorous environmental legislation is not adequately supervised or reforested by the public authorities.

Solutions: sprinklers or tree planting?

The elevated sprinklers along the main pedestrian drag in downtown Bangu, which have not worked for the last two years, started spraying again just a few days ago thanks to maintenance work being carried out. It was 2002 when the neighborhood got the cooling system that helps to reduce the heat felt by passersby. For a Bangu regular, Jane Barreto, the moisture helps to put up with the high temperatures: “when it is really hot and the area is full of people the sprinklers are the only form of relief.”

Despite its efficacy being proved in downtown Bangu, sprinklers are far from a solution for all the heat islands that form. A more efficient and long-term measure to reduce temperatures is the planting of trees and the preservation of green areas. According to Flávio Telles, the director of tree-planting at the Park and Garden Foundation, the surveys carried out by the government indicate that the P5 area (which includes Bangu, Campo Grande, Santa Cruz and others) shows a high demand for urban trees: “the areas where we do the most tree planting are the P3 (Rio’s North Zone) and P5, because they need it the most.”

The data and analyses of various specialists and the opinions of locals confirm what popular belief already knew: Bangu is hot. And the local geography is largely responsible for this. However, in these times of global warming, human intervention, including unrestrained growth, deforestation and pollution, can have a worsening effect on the situation. And it is a vicious circle: the hotter it is, the more energy is needed for air conditioning units. And if this energy is not generated in a clean way then there is another negative effect: the increase and spread of greenhouse gases. In this scenario, those who suffer the most are the poorest, who often do not have access to refrigeration or cooling systems. Global climactic changes are a reality – just look at global warming. Local changes are, too – just look at these heat islands. Bangu is hot, but it could get worse.

A group of Indian architects wants to import lessons learned in Brazilian favelas to Mumbai in order to improve living conditions in poor regions of the Indian city.

Architects and planners from the Institute of Urbanology – a foundation based in Mumbai dedicated to research and dissemination of ideas on urbanism – believe that several of the Indian government’s initiatives to rebuild housing ended up producing only corruption, decrepit buildings, and miserable neighborhoods.

In some cases, the living conditions of residents in the new blocks even worsened when they swapped their shacks in the slums for these new apartments.

The Indian architects visited the Paraisópolis favela in São Paulo this year and grew excited by what they saw. Instead of destroying existing homes and building new housing, the majority of slum dwellers applied a jeitinho (a uniquely Brazilian expression, meaning ingenuity born of need; or taking advantage of flexible rules) to their own homes.

According to professionals at the Institute of Urbanology, it is much more effective to improve housing conditions than simply to destroy entire slums.

‘TOOL-HOUSES’

Matias Echanove, a member of the academic urbanism collective Urbz, involved in the Paraisópolis trip, identifies four problems in the construction of new housing to replace slums.

First, to keep the apartments affordable, builders need to greatly reduce work costs, a factor which compromises the quality of material used.

Another problem is that the housing ends up with what Echanove calls “tool-houses” – homes that double as business establishments.

“When people lose their homes in the communities, they also lose their businesses. For the local economy, this may be a bad thing,” said Echanove to BBC Brazil.

The third factor is social interaction, which is compromised as people interact in residential buildings less than in communities like favelas.

“(In public housing) it is possible to feel even more insecure than in the favelas. The informal communities in Mumbai have something planners call ‘eyes on the street’. That is, there is always someone roaming the streets,” says the urbanist.

“One thing that caught our attention in Paraisópolis is that in parts of the favela we had a greater sense of security than in other parts of São Paulo, like downtown, where there were a number of drug dealers and drug users. In the favelas, there are more families and workers circulating, which makes the environment more enjoyable. ”

Finally, the urbanist believes that formal building construction leads to corruption.

“The construction industry is always one of the most corrupt in the economy. In general, it is always the same players who win public contracts.”

ADVANTAGE

Another advantage observed by planners on their visit to Paraisópolis is what professionals call “incremental development” – residents using their incomes to improve their own houses, building more floors on a house and puxadinhos (irregular additions).

“We have seen pretty curious cases in Paraisópolis, such as a resident who (incrementally) improved his home over an 18-year period. This forms a much richer cycle of urban and economic development.”

He recognizes that there are serious problems in the favelas, especially when the government does not provide good roads, sanitation and electricity. Another flaw is that the favelas without any urban planning – especially those built in areas at risk – are more vulnerable to environmental events like flooding. To Echanove, however, this can be resolved with works from authorities and not with the removal of favelas.

Lessons can be harnessed in places like Dharavi, one of the five largest slums in the world, whose total population is estimated at between 600,000 and 1 million people.

DHARAVI-PARAISÓPOLIS SCHOOL

The Institute of Urbanology plans a series of workshops and discussions in June 2013 on the experiences of architecture in India and Brazil. With the support of the City of São Paulo and the cement multinational Lafarge, professionals will spend two weeks in Dharavi and two weeks in Paraisópolis for an event named Dharavi-Paraisópolis School of Urbanology.

“Construction workers and slum dwellers will teach planners, architects and politicians some of their techniques. We want to reverse the traditional hierarchy of public authority and show that we have things to learn as professionals,” said the director of Urbz.

This year, the Indian organization took students from the prestigious college Sir JJ College of Architecture, from Mumbai, to Brazil, where they spent time observing the techniques developed by masons in Brazilian favelas. This week an exhibition was launched with photos taken in the São Paulo favela.

In 2005, journalist Giordana Moreira covered Brazil’s first National Meeting of Women Graffiti Artists. As it came to an end she had inadvertently solidified the weblike connections between her personal interests in politics, art and gender issues. She became interested in the particular situation of women graffiti artists.

Giordana realized that graffiti’s nature, being a street art like other elements of hip hop, made participation extremely difficult for women: “Having to carry a book bag full of spray paint in public, stop in the middle of the street without asking permission to graffiti… all this challenges the place society designates for women, which is a private space.”

Giordana notes that today graffiti is made accessible through workshops when a few years ago it could only be learned on the street from other artists: “Having so many men involved intimidated women and being just one woman among so many men made it all the more difficult to learn technique.” Giordana also admired the solidarity of women graffiti artists, some of them traditional feminists and others not interested in feminism at all, who put aside these differences to paint together.

Giordana later incorporated this in her work with the NGO ComCausa, when coworkers became interested in concentrating efforts around the Maria da Penha law, which strengthens punishment for aggressors in incidents of domestic violence. From her efforts, Women Graffiti Artists for the Maria da Penha Law was born, which later became Artefeito, a group of graffiti artists whose work tackles gender issues and sexism. Giordana is also a founding member of Roque Pense, a group sponsoring workshops, fanzine, radio, and rock music initiatives born out of a partnership between Artefeito and Let’s Pense!, a poetry fanzine. “Pense”, literally “Think” is Artefeito’s abbreviation for “Para uma educação não sexista,” or “for a non-sexist education.” Giordana identifies the roots of her work in her teen involvement in alternative culture, particularly at the Nova Iguaçu Skating Rink, the oldest in Latin America. This early affinity for culture and art, paired with active involvement in political discussions, were part of natural professional developments that led to Giordana’s career in art and activism with a focus on gender issues.

For organizations like Artefeito, which allows women and men participants, a common difficulty is that a lot of funding opportunities are designated for women-only organizations. Giordana claims that “space has got to be made for women to participate, while at the same time not excluding men from the process. At Roque Pense, even though we work towards female protagonism, we also work with rock in Rio’s northern suburban region…and we can’t exclude men from this. We have to get them together with us to share knowledge and power.” Even within mixed-gender organizations, however, Giordana advises that women be given the responsibility of suggesting and approving solutions, since, after all, they are the ones suffering discrimination. Having to remind male participants of this on occasion is necessary.

When asked what her philosophy is for gaining ground in women’s rights and participation, Giordana says, “From the moment a woman takes responsibility as the owner of creation, she will certainly share power with men.” Giordana cites musician Rita Lee, who challenged women beginning their music careers to always compose their own songs, and likewise, advises that women graffiti artists “have got to paint a lot, host their exhibitions and workshops themselves.”

A huge challenge, as Giordana puts it, is that “men are always the protagonists.” In rock, for example, “the majority of those on stage are men, and that means the band… and the technical team. It is extremely difficult for women to get on stage.” Giordana even recalls one of her events where the stage director was a woman, and none of the all-male crew members would respect her. “If you look at the production team, it’s all women. But when it’s time for a photo op, or the show, however, it’s all men.”

Giordana’s years of life and professional experience make her an invaluable source of knowledge on women’s issues and the difficulties for organizations working in this area. Giordana cites the “false idea that (the problem of women’s rights) has already been solved” and women artists who claim to “think (work with women’s rights issues) is great” but don’t want to participate themselves, as very challenging and common occurrences. Giordana explains, “Women artists end up forgetting values… what they want is to tag along with the men – they’re the ones with the power and the contacts, and they’re decades ahead of women.”

This male dominance in protagonism is why Giordana’s advice to women to be the sole producers of their own creations is so relevant. Once women make it on stage, however, there is still more work to be done: “It’s not enough just to create. You can be a woman in a rock band or an amazing graffiti artist, super famous, but it doesn’t help if you gain all this and don’t share a feminist message. You’ll just be another member in a market of men.”

Giordana remembers the first Let’s Pense fanzine workshop with a non-sexist education theme. 15 men attended, along with two facilitators: Giordana and a man. “I started by talking about the discrimination that happens in our every day yet no one notices. A man will go out to have a beer, but a woman feels bad leaving her child at home with a relative. A woman thinks, ‘ah, I have to wash these dishes,’ and if she doesn’t, ‘I’m not a good woman.’ If a man doesn’t wash the dishes, he couldn’t care less. He won’t feel any guilt.” Giordana was surprised at the positive responses she got from the young men. “Making people recognize discrimination is the most practical strategy,” she says.

And does the world lose out on anything when we don’t have women’s participation and artistic expression? “The world loses exactly what is most needed today, a real sense of humanity.” Giordana argues that, because of women’s role in society, conditioned to think more about family and be more perceptive of and sensitive to other family members’ emotions, women have sharpened these skills, much more so than men. “That’s what’s lost, especially in art, something that stirs up emotions. Without women’s participation, this humanity, solidarity and organization are lost. It’s wrong to make women responsible for the psychological well being of families, but this makes women develop this skill, much more so than men.”

Particularly with young people, however, one must help “youth do what they want to do. It doesn’t help at all for you to put a flag in the young person’s hand and tell her to march in defense of such and such law. If this law doesn’t seem relevant to her, she won’t go.” Giordana advises incorporating these and other social issues into activities that youth already like. “It’s a lot better to host a festival of feminine rock than to hold a meeting that people will abandon later.”

This resonates with Giordana’s own experience, observing wisdom within seemingly irresponsible circles: “None of my singing and dancing friends had any ideas about activism, but actually, this group of people knew a lot more about responsibility to one’s fellow human beings than a lot of people who called themselves activists.”

Watch this video to hear more about Giordana’s personal experience with art and activism.