Gun battles still boom through the streets. Drug dealers still ply their trade in the labyrinth of alleyways. Residents of the Rocinha neighbourhood still fume over the brutal tactics of the police, who were recently charged with torturing and killing an impoverished bricklayer.
But with hotel rooms in perilously short supply and even modest hostels in Rio de Janeiro charging as much as $450 for a bed during the World Cup in Brazil next year, the residents of Rocinha and other favelas, or slums, are making the most of the city’s acute shortage of lodging for the event: They are renting out their homes to fans.
Maria Clara dos Santos, 49, is preparing to take as many as 10 World Cup visitors into her three-bedroom home in Rocinha (pronounced ho-SEEN-ya), which commands a stunning view of Ipanema’s sun-kissed beaches in the distance. True, Ms. dos Santos notes, untreated sewage reeks on her street and steel bars on her windows are needed to deter break-ins, so she is offering guests a comparative bargain — about $50 a night to stay with her during the tournament.
“We can provide a level of human warmth and authenticity that places down below cannot,” she said, reflecting the growing popularity of favelas for their vibrant musical scenes, cheaper prices and absence of pretension.
Housing tourists in Rio’s slums might well turn out to be one of the smoother aspects of preparing for the World Cup, an event that has been more a source of contention for Brazil than a crowning achievement in its push for global acclaim.
Brazilian authorities expect the nation to receive as many as 600,000 foreign tourists around the month of the World Cup, which starts in June and will be held in 12 cities. Here in Rio, which will host the tournament’s final game, hotel operators are clearly salivating at the coming influx.
One reason: The city has only about 55,400 hotel beds for as many as 300,000 expected visitors, leading rates to surge to an average of about $460 a night, roughly double what they regularly cost, according to Brazil’s state tourism agency.
For those who cannot afford to stay in Rio’s more glamorous districts, or who are simply turned off by the city’s already high hotel rates, favela lodgings are emerging as an alluring option.
“I wanted to learn more about the heart of Brazil, rather than the facade,” said Isom Hightower, 30, who is now