home visit to Chris

I have to admit that I was a little nervous last Monday afternoon. It was my first time in a Brazilian Favela. We were going to search for Chris, to see how he was getting on, if he had made it to school yet, and to let him know there are still people who care for him. When we first arrived I was a little surprised the area looked a lot like the one we live in here, called Santa Monica, which was one of the worst Favelas in Recife 10 years ago, but now is more of a "community". The area we arrived in was even more developed than our community, houses were painted and tiled, they had pavements and there was no litter on the floor. But we turned down a side road, parked  up and entered a maze of shanty houses that were little more than a metre apart. People sitting in their doorways watching us go past. It felt very claustrophobic. I felt like an intruder, so obviously not from this part of the country. People sit on their doorsteps doing things together, it feels like you are walking through there living room. I probably was walking through there living room. The kids recognised some of the team and led us to Chris's house. He lives by the river which is putrid and a kind of milky blue from chemicals and toilet waste. Chris was home but sleeping. The room he and his family lives in has a wall in the middle which separates sleeping and living. All the family sleep in the same area, with a bunk bed and two more beds in the rafters of this one storey building. There is a hole in the large corrugated  roof tile above one of the beds and I remember thinking I'd hate sleeping in the rain. Chris was sleepy and the house and his brothers stank of the glue that they use to get high. I don't know if he is still using it. I gave him a hug, I knew he was glad to see us but I could see that he was disappointed in himself and he became very quiet. He had not been to school he still hadn't even enrolled. He had got himself a job delivering water. On the wall of the room are several photo frames. one contains a montage of pictures of Chris's brother, their sister,14 year old Erica, told me that their brother died on the streets a couple of years ago. The poverty of this family was overwhelming, but more overwhelming was Chris's hopelessness. He doesn't believe he can succeed in school, he doesn't even think its worth trying, in fact he's probably scared of trying. who can blame him? He is 16 years old and will be put into a class with 10 year olds, and he will still struggle to keep up. I believe the reason that he left the Hope House is that he was scarred of going to school. Should we really force him to? I've always been a strong advocate of children going to school but now I see that Chris has no hope of catching up and needs to gain confidence, skills and independence from somewhere else.  Anyway, it was great to see Chris and by the end of the visit his mood had really picked up, he was thrilled that we had come to see him and we were happy to see that he was not on the street.

I didn't take my camera, but I found a photo on the web of a similar Favela here in Recife.