Noises in the Favela

It is Friday.  I remain overwhelmed.  There is much to see, do and little time for me to do it in.  As I write, it is before 7 am;  a street vender is walking through the  cool and newly cleansed alleys – there was a long awaited heavy rain storm during the night. He is sounding a horn and shouting his wares – my attentive translators have gone to work an hour a go. So I remain ignorant of his merchandise that he carries on his head.

I close the curtains against the rising sun and dust that will undoubtedly come as the streets dry again.

Now, hearing only the sounds of the alley; as the bar tender next door lifts the metal shutters of the café and begins to sweep – coughing and spitting- his section of the alley. The family opposite spill out on to the path and go down to take the bus to school. Another horn man comes up the steps. A pair of dogs quarrel noisily, but even they realise the futility of this and find a cool spot to snooze a while – I hope.  While a child beats a tuneful a rhythm on his school bag perhaps?  It is pleasant respite to the un-tuned horn, still squawking up the alleys. A child cries woefully while I consider the reasons, a radio is turned on the newsreader witters meaninglessly as I struggle to concentrate.  She does not obliterate the continual throb of the heavy machinery as it drags the poor and makeshift amenities and services of the 19^th century,  in the road that joins the favela  to Leme high street, up to date!

The news reader fades and Witney Houston removes me from my meaningful prose again.

I cannot remain curtained for long refilling my tea cup I watch, men remove and replace beer barrels next door, rolling and spinning them up and down the steps –sitting on them in doorways every so often to enjoy air – still cool.  They instruct one another loudly; for me with obvious incoherence.

Mammas tend their door steps more carefully, removing cigarette butts and salvaging beer cans and plastic bottles.  These are religiously collected for a small but significant return in a financially delicate environment.

The noise rises above the natural again, men and boys roar cheerfully,  the dogs bark and the excitement rises for what?  I remain alien.

The looming clouds suggest more rain and the planned walk to the beach may be postponed