I just got back from Rio a few days ago and I'm slowly adjusting back to life in Scotland. The biggest thing right now is trying to adjust to the timezone. It's 1:30 am and I'm not especially tired. I hope I get to sleep when I finally go to bed.
The trip was amazing. It was such an experience to see another world. The kids in the favela were so sweet. They were always smiling and happy to see us. They remembered my name and the second day they were shouting "Ken! Ken!" as they ran up to me. They really do love very easily.
One day I was playing a game with them where they would describe something with gestures till I guessed the name of it in English. (This game was motivated by my lack of Portuguese.) To begin with it was things like bicycle, kite, dog, bird and so on - the kind of things you would expect. Then things took an interesting turn when they said "granad". From their description it was clear that they were talking about a hand-grenade. It brought it home to me that despite their loving, playful innocence, they were essentially living in a warzone where violence and death were not uncommon.
