The Brazil Diaries #7: Favela Santa Marta and Ecuador's elimination

With next to 600 favelas in Rio de Janeiro, there are some that foreigners should avoid entering altogether and others that can be visited with a degree of caution.

Santa Marta falls into the latter category.

Exploring a favela was high on my to-do list in Brazil, but I was initially unsure about which one to visit during our second stint in Rio. Then, after a two-hour hike up Corcovado to see the legendary Christ the Redeemer statue — George and I opted for a steep hike up Tijuca Forest instead of taking the cable car — Santa Marta instantly became the favela of choice. 

The colorful barrio is nestled high up in the hills, not far from the statue, and it allows for a ridiculously picturesque view of Rio. It's home to about 8,000 residents, and in 2008, it became the first favela to be "pacified" by the Pacifiying Police Unit, a social program that attempts to seize the streets from the grips of gangs. Essentially, it's a military occupation of Rio's neighborhoods.

Walking through Santa Marta made me feel like I was a character in a video game. It's among the steepest favelas in all of Rio, and as you climb higher and higher through the narrow staircases and paths, locals smile and wave. Street dogs take comfort in the shade and everyone seems to be hanging their laundry.

As we got closer to the top of Santa Marta, people kept asking us "Michael Jackson?" I was confused at first, but then I remembered something I'd read before coming to Brazil. In 1996, Michael Jackson filmed the music video for "They Don't Care About Us" in Santa Marta. Spike Lee was the director.

It turned out that the locals were asking us if we needed directions to the golden statue of Michael Jackson that stands at the top of the favela.

Santa Marta has a profound love for the King of Pop. Murals of his face are scattered everywhere, replicas of the shirt he wore in the music video can be purchased in stores, and we even met a resident who dresses like Michael Jackson every single day as he was moon walking beside the statue. Very cool.

Nearby, a futebol game was taking place in a caged pitch where I got to watch some of the most impressive street soccer I'd seen during my trip. Each player's first touch was astounding, and the jaw-dropping moves they'd bust out to humiliate the opposition triggered wild reactions from me and everyone else who was watching.

After taking the cable car, or favelavator as I like to call it, back to the bottom of Santa Marta, we set off to the Maracana for Ecuador vs. France, a match I'd been anxious about for the past few days since it would determine whether or not Ecuador advanced from the group stage.

We arrived with about two hours until kickoff, and just like every other game we'd attended, we soaked up the pre-game atmosphere by drinking in the surrounding streets. I met one fan who had a banner for my club team, Liga de Quito.

The first half took about a year off my life, and things went from bad to worse when Antonio Valencia was sent off just after the interval. Even though our seats were near the incident, I couldn't tell whether or not a red card was justified. My stomach then sunk when I asked a guy sitting next to me about the score in Switzerland vs. Honduras, a game that directly impacted Ecuador's fate. Switzerland were up 2-0.

At that moment, I came to terms with the fact that Ecuador's World Cup run was over. While other supporters in the Ecuadorian section of the stadium continued to shout as La Tri attempted to pull off a miracle, I curled up in the fetal position on a ledge and watched the remainder of the match in silence. Four years of hopes and dreams meant nothing because of the 93rd-minute goal that Ecuador conceded against Switzerland.

I've always been able to segment my life based on Ecuador's World Cup campaigns. I remember where 13-year-old me was at when the team made their World Cup debut in 2002. I remember where 17-year-old me was at when they were eliminated in the round of 16 in 2006. I remember where 20-year-old me was at when they failed to reach the 2010 edition of the tournament.

And now, this tournament, here and now. I'm looking forward to seeing where 29-year-old me is at when Ecuador wins the World Cup in 2018.