SLUM RESIDENTS FIGHT FOR THEIR HOMES.
RIO DE JANEIRO — On one cracked, peeling wall of the Neighbourhood Association hangs a poster of defiance, of solidarity. The photo is of a small, smiling girl on a swing, and the slogan Viva, Vila Autodromo!
Outside, dogs roam. Smiling girls swing on a playground set, just like in the poster, in front of a brick wall painted with a Brazilian flag. The Selecao-Mexico World Cup match is in the offing. The flags are out.
“Bra-ZIL!” exhorts one man in a Neymar 10 sweater, strolling down the dirt road with two buddies. “Bra-ZIL!”
The Vila Autodromo does not scale up the side of a hill, the way we remember in the movie City of God. The moonlight sparkle of those favelas belies the difficult, often violent conditions inside. They are closed, insular communities.
The Autodromo, in existence since 1967, lies on flat curving land by a fetid lagoon where the waste of the favela and neighbouring luxury apartments are dumped. If not one of the most dangerous areas of its kind, the people are in fact extremely friendly.
It is right now one of Rio’s most contentious areas. And the one with the most leverage.
Situated right on the edge of the hulking skeleton of what will be the vast 2016 Summer Olympic Park, the former home of the city’s Formula One racetrack, residents of Vila Autodromo have been left a choice. Their homes, or quick profit.
The plan is post-Olympics to build luxury residences where the park will stand. But a slum right next door isn’t going to drive up prices. So up to 1 million real (real is the currency of Brazil), which equals about $500,000 Cdn, has been offered for property on the favela. Other favelas, in less enviable locations, are being offered in the neighbourhood of 12,000 real.
Out of 500 families that once inhabited the Autodromo, 350, or roughly 1,400 people, remain. Where houses, however modest, once stood, now gaping holes stand, littered with rubble.
“They’ve had public defenders, human-rights groups, the Catholic Church behind them, a lot of media behind them,” says Theresa Williamson, founder of Catalytic Communities, an advocate of the favelas. “We’ve got a lot of visibility for this case. They drew it out by fighting it through the courts.
“It was a battle between the organized residents, who are still here, and the city trying to get the other members of the community over to their side. This particular community goes against all the assumptions — favelas are poor, marginal places that nobody wants to live in. These people are fighting. There are some that just don’t care what the offer is. They’re not moving.”
Legally, the residents have leases. In the face of surprising resistance, Rio mayor Eduardo Paes has promised the people of Autodromo that they will not be evicted and the area after it’s reimagined for the Olympics will be urbanized. But the city needs the area by the lagoon, a canal and a road to head into the Olympic Park.
Olcimar has lived in Autodromo since 2005; he bought of plot of land and built. He insists that this “is a battle over territory, of building your life here.” And he will not leave.
As the compensation continues to grow, and as the Games get near, enticements will only increase. With hundreds of thousands of real to be had, cashing in will be harder and harder to resist.
“If the mayor has his way,” says Williamson, “there will be nothing here in 2016.”
Some insist they are steadfast in their loyalty to their home, to Vila Autodromo, no matter what offers are tabled.
Community activist Jane Nascimento admits the lure of unimagined wealth is difficult for anyone to resist. She hopes that whenever remaining residents do make a choice, though, they pause to think about family, about shared experience, about a place they’ve built together.
“The people who are committed to staying,” she says defiantly, “will form a tough core, smaller community, but a very conscious community, ready for the next round of battles.” She pauses for a moment. “Brazil really does dance with the devil.”