This is what I guess one would call the entrance to the favela. There are rows of places where knock off items are sold and street vendors sell food before you actually enter the favela. 
This is the view from the top of Rocinha overlooking the city. You can't really see it, but at the bottom of the picture there is a country club with a pool and tennis court etc...the disparity and inequality that this picture symbolizes is just so hard to wrap your mind around. 
A picture of Rocinha at night from the bridge that crosses over the freeway to where the illegal buses back to Leblón wait. 
A shot of a favela from up in the helicopter on my last day in Rio. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Riding on the back of a motorcycle taxi clinging on to the sides of a random Brazilian trying to speak to me in portuguese... Weaving between cars and dodging people...Catching a wiff of street bbq and then the pungent smell of the open sewer...Samba music drifting down from a dance studio over the noise of honking and motorcycles...This was my introduction to Rocinha. Ryan and I rode motorcycle taxis up to the top of the mountain that Rocinha covers to take the second picture from above. I don't really know what I was expecting of the favela, but I found that I was on sensory overload. The energy there is vibrant and people are out on the streets chatting and happy. I find that it's hard to put that experience into words, but it was wonderful and I would say on the top ten list of things I have done in my life. Looking at Ryan on the motorcycle buzzing ahead of mine, I was very thankful to have this adventurous person in my life who has really helped make my world a bigger, more diverse place.
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I found myself rather frustrated when talking to middle class Brazilians about Rocinha. We had dinner at Ryan's professor's house and the topic came up with his daughter, Julia. The first thing is that they are always shocked that you have ventured into the favela...and even more shocked when they find out you entered unescorted and at night. The second thing, and what really makes me angry, is that they are very quick to bring up the fact that Rocinha is a fairly well off favela and that there is worse out there. One thing sited, for example, is the fact that many people in Rocinha have cell phones (my first thought was off the images I have seen of farmers in Africa with cell phones or the old ladies who sell calls on their cell phones in small towns in developing countries). This way of thinking is hard for me to understand, but I don't judge it. When something is in your backyard, almost literally as the favelas continue to expand and creep closer to middle class areas, it's easy to become accustomed to it.
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One favela that was particulary interesting was on the way to the bus station. I thougt it was very interesting that this particular favela seemed to be constructed completely out of matching red brick -- unusual as most of the favelas are haphazardly constructed out of various, multicolored materials. When I looked to the other side of the road I saw the framework of what must have been a huge warehouse at some point with a few of the same bricks scattered here and there...talk about recycling and innovation...practically a whole favela from one warehouse.
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