Glue kids

I thought I'd post a brief post detail the disturbing images I observed the other night.

Me, Shelley and Joãn planned on going to the cinema to see Spiderman two the other night. It is located just up the road from Lapa (where I live) in an area called Cinelandia. When we got there it was closed so we decided to go for a stroll in search of some scran. We walked round the corner to marvel at the sights of the Museu Nacional de Belas Artes (National Museum of Fine Arts) the Teatro Municipal and Centro Cultural da Justiça Federal; all relics built about 100 years marking the rich wealth and grandeur of Imperial Brazil.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperial_Brazil

A boy of about 9 came up to us begging for change. He had a big smile and an innocent (probably well practiced) face. He was about 5' tall and skinnier than a rake and was clutching a can of Skol, although, this can didn't contain beer. I pulled out 2 a two Real note and handed it over to him before he scarpered off into the night. To confirm my suspicion Joãn asked 'you know that wasn't beer in that can don't you?' 'Yeah it was glue, wasn't it' I replied. Joãn nodded in agreement. We then sat on the steps in front of the Centro Cultural da Justiça Federal discussing Brazilian history with Joãn (an international relations student who works as a translator for Elvis). He went on to tell us that there still existed a Brazilian royal family who dwell in the State of Petropolis, although they have no power or say in the running of the country.

The same young boy who had been begging us for money just 10 minutes earlier was attempting to tackle a football from some slightly older boys in the square. They kept throwing him on the floor like a rag doll when ever he managed to touch the ball. None of the children had flip-flops on and this wasn't to help their footballing skills, it was likely to be because they had been taken from them. They were all clutching empty plastic coke bottles and just like the can of Skol they contained no coke.

Behind us, further up the stairs we heard voices and commotion. There was a small alcove on the top left of the staircase. This alcove had become home to about 10 you boys and girls; one of whom, no more that 16 was pregnant. They were darting in and out of there 'home' all throughout the time we sat there. Each of them clutching their bottles of glue.

I will never forget the powerful juxtaposition of seeing those poor solvent-addicted homeless kids, playing in a square surrounded by such splendid and rich architecture.

The link below contains some startling facts:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Street_children#Street_children_in_Brazil