AS the early morning light struggles through the fine February drizzle, São Paulo’s 18million residents are waking up. On Avendia Paulista, the beating heart of the financial capital, well-heeled executives bustle to their chic offices in towering skyscrapers, while the occasional helicopter whirs overhead, whisking the super-rich across town. Just a stone’s throw away in São Paulo’s rundown city centre, many of an estimated homeless population of 20,000 are folding away makeshift beds constructed under bridges, flyovers and in doorways, where whole families often shelter. And just a few kilometres north, Jomarina Abreu Pires da Fonseca is standing outside 911 Prestes Maia, watching as the city comes to life.
ARU throws back his head and spreads his arms as he crosses the finish line of the 100m sprint first, his triumphant smile recalling the delight felt by thousands of winning athletes before him. But with the excited whoops of his team-mates comes a swift reminder that this race was a little different. Dressed in intricate feather head-dresses, and elaborately painted from head to toe, his fellow tribe members from the state of Pará in northern Brazil rush across the strip of beach, serving as a temporary stadium. Circling their new hero, they wave their traditionally crafted maracas, dance and stamp in time to a spontaneous song of celebration to honour his success.
AS the early morning light struggles through the fine February drizzle, São Paulo’s 18million residents are waking up. On Avendia Paulista, the beating heart of the financial capital, well-heeled executives bustle to their chic offices in towering skyscrapers, while the occasional helicopter whirs overhead, whisking the super-rich across town.
Just a stone’s throw away in São Paulo’s rundown city centre, many of an estimated homeless population of 20,000 are folding away makeshift beds constructed under bridges, flyovers and in doorways, where whole families often shelter. And just a few kilometres north, Jomarina Abreu Pires da Fonseca is standing outside 911 Prestes Maia, watching as the city comes to life.
ARU throws back his head and spreads his arms as he crosses the finish line of the 100m sprint first, his triumphant smile recalling the delight felt by thousands of winning athletes before him. But with the excited whoops of his team-mates comes a swift reminder that this race was a little different.
Dressed in intricate feather head-dresses, and elaborately painted from head to toe, his fellow tribe members from the state of Pará in northern Brazil rush across the strip of beach, serving as a temporary stadium. Circling their new hero, they wave their traditionally crafted maracas, dance and stamp in time to a spontaneous song of celebration to honour his success.