At Vox, we do things differently. We report urgently on the most important issues shaping our world, and dedicate time to the issues that the rest of the media often neglects. We rely on readers like you to fund our journalism. Will you support our work and become a Vox Member today? In January, I spent a month in Rio de Janeiro exploring the city as it prepared for the Olympics.
The Olympics have long served as an opportunity for cities to grow, develop undeveloped land, improve public transportation, and prove themselves on an international platform. Rio de Janeiro is no different. The Olympics have prompted monumental changes in the city β but not all positive. Modernization comes at a cost. During my visit, I fell upon a story of passion and resilience: a community living the often invisible toll of a growing city.
Penha, 51 years old, a house cleaner turned community activist, stands not much taller than 5 feet and weighs less than pounds. Standing next to her husband, Luiz Claudio, 53, a physical education teacher, she welcomes a group of American University students visiting to hear the story of her community.
Only a fence separates us from the soon-to-be Olympic media hotel and parking lot. Ever since Rio Mayor Eduardo Paes announced the Olympic Park would be built in their front yard in , Penha and Claudio have become accustomed to visitors. School groups, international video crews, and reporters all want to hear the story of a community being torn down in the name of international sport β me included.
Their routine is well-rehearsed, walking me through empty lots of demolished homes and sharing memories. After knocking down a house, the city leaves the debris to make the community feel uninhabitable, he tells me.
