World Cup: The View From a Favela in Rio

RIO DE JANEIRO—Alex Cultler grew up in an upper-middle class Jewish family in Westwood, California. He was just a regular guy with an MBA on a career track, but then he quit his job, moved to Brazil, and transformed himself into Don Blanquito, the first gringo funk singer in Rio de Janeiro.

He moved into a drug-trafficker controlled favela and spent the next two years playing around the city at all hours of the night in funk parties full of machine-gun-toting gang members and cocaine and ecstasy kiosks. He learned favela Portuguese and had a few regional hits, like Embrazamento Delas.

Then, he got married, had a kid, moved from funk towards hip-hop, and became a Brazilian late-night TV talk show regular, showing a penchant for comedy.

I called him up the other day and asked if I could come out and watch a game with him. "I got to go to my in-laws' place for the Brazil game," he told me. "It'll be sick. Everyone's gonna get twisted. You're welcome to tag along if you want. It's in this favela out in Novo Iguaçu."

I took the train out to the outskirts of the city, walked 10 blocks through dusty streets with horse carts, bicycles and old cars driving by. I knocked on the door of a typical, homemade-brick house and Alex opened the door.

"Come on in. We got the grill going. We were going to set the TV up on the roof, but it's too hot so it's in the backyard. Want a beer? The street we are on is pretty chill but if you go two blocks in either way you'll see drug tables out on the street and guys with guns. It's TCP (Terceira Commando Puro, a drug trafficking gang) controlling the place at the moment."

"I think people in the favelas are more passionate. It's great watching it here because it brings the spirit of the game more to life. First of all the fact that you are in a favela means that you will always have some adrenaline anyway. You go out to get more energy drinks at halftime and the streets are full of drunks and children, but the one thing that unifies everyone is this common bond which is everyone's desire for Brazil to win the game, so it's cool. You got kids, drug dealers, working class, all together in their own pockets, but they are all linked to the TV sets and the spirits are high."

So how is watching the World Cup in Brazil different from watching sports back in the US?

"There is a certain amount of patriotism that kicks in during the World Cup that you don't really feel in a regular bullshit game in the states. Personally, I don't really give a fuck about sports, but I think the World Cup is different because it's a sound way to hold a dispute. It's a healthy way for the world to fight, on a soccer field as opposed to with guns and missiles."

Brazil scores. Everyone leaps out of their chairs and starts screaming. Fireworks go off all around us, people hug each other. Two minutes later, everyone is back down in their chairs, nervously biting their nails and naturally cursing at the TV screen.

"Can you two gringos please be quiet?" an old man asks. "We're trying to watch the game here."

Brian Mier is an American ex-pat who lives in Rio. He is the author of Slow Ride. His previous work for Vice can be viewed here.