Sex on the Beach 2: FAVELA STYLE

He kept telling me to loosen up. Telling me that I was too closed and that I needed to relax. Well, I wasn’t sure exactly how I was supposed to relax considering he was sitting there 2 (very small) feet away from me.  Or at least he WAS because he soon found an excuse to edge his way next to me on the mats (yeah that’s right I have mats at my house and ingeniously hid my bed behind my desk so that visitors don’t take liberties on my bed like this fool was taking on my mats!).

I’m not exactly sure why the hell I even let him in my house. I can’t deny the things he was saying were making complete sense. I really did need to loosen up. My physical therapist, and masseuse tell me the same thing all the time; I'm too tense. Considering I am always trying to avoid some kind of unwanted physical contact, whether it be getting my guard passed in training, or a friendly hug that is lasting entirely too long, it just comes as second nature to treat all physical contact as a potentially hostile threat (probably indicative of some psychological damage I'm inflicting on myself but oh well I love what I do). 

Connection Rio 

my home away from home

All physical contact should be handled 

with hostility, especially at Connection Rio,

cause seriously he should just slap me!

I thought of my friends, A and J, who would be flooded with words or know exactly what to say. Better yet, they would know exactly who he was because they grew up together there in Galo.

So maybe that why I let him in, maybe it was a subconscious effort to try and be more social and integrate myself into the community. To not feel so isolated all of the time.

I often wonder what it would be like to shed my gringo skin and see the favela through the Cria perspective. Maybe then I would be more relaxed with him instead of internally slapping myself across the head for letting a drug dealer in my house. Maybe then he would just be a dumb kid from down the street and then maybe words would flow easier and I would have something to say to him.

Tudo 2 (all 2) is something I used to say all the time. Then my friend 

from Nova Uniao swore to me it was a gang phrase from my neighborhood. 

 Well if they can put it on a wall than it can stay in my vocab! 

But unfortunately that is not the case. I didn’t know him (despite seeing him everyday). So, I’m sitting about a foot away from this guy with one knee up and hands positioned to deflect any attempt to either pass or worse ENTER my guard. Just to be thorough, I made sure to keep my knee “live” or turned out and kept my hand close to my ankle to avoid it getting snatched up and me being laid out on my back (since I’m so small, people take advantage of any minor flaw in my posture to muscle me onto my back and pass my guard). Despite the attention to detail that I put into my posture, my girl Claudinha always tells me the best defense is offense, so any attempts to kiss me where going to be met swiftly and violently with an elbow.

Yes, that’s actually what I was thinking about while this guy was talking to me.

No, I’m not exaggerating not even in the slightest.

Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t actually scared of him. He was a drug dealer, true, but he had gone home and dropped off his bag of drugs before coming over and from what I could tell there was no gun under his thin, white Nike T-shirt. So, no, I wasn’t scared of him, we just had a severe conflict of interests that were eventually going to clash (titan style). In a short period of time, I was going to want to go to bed because I had wrestling in the morning and he... well he wanted to get a little wrestling done then and there. So there I sat tense AF!

I’m not sure what the hell I’m supposed to say to this guy and it wasn’t just the language barrier, we just didn’t have much in common. Tomorrow I was going to get up and go train wrestling, Jiu Jitsu, and Muay Thai. He, on the other hand, was going to sit for 12 hours and watch for police. He likes to go out and dance… and I want to be a world champion.

View from Terere's room in Galo of  neighoring favelas 

pavao/pavaozinho and Copacabana beach

Maybe I’m just as bad as he was. Maybe I was just playing with him. I knew why he was there, but I was curious to see how he was going to go about his business. I didn’t want to generalize and stick all Brazilians in a box so I gave him a chance to escape from his little box where I had neatly compartmentalized him and brushed him off as with most male suiters that come my way. 

He didn’t do much to restore my faith, instead he proceeded along the normal script, “Loosen up, lighten up, let things flow.” I’m tired of hearing that shit. Actions speak louder than words and so far I have yet to meet someone who I can let my guard down around. The fact that they never actually "let things flow doesn’t help either"! Instead they persist with one advance after another until I’m ready to grab my mouth guard and hand wraps.  

I will admit, however, that while I don't agree with the Brazilian propensity to wantonly sleep around, they are straight forward and direct. They don't beat around the bush or make promises they never intend to fulfill. They tell you straight up what they want and they don't bother to sugarcoat it with trips to movies or any other sort of romantic endeavor.

So naturally, when some non Brazilian offered to walk to the entrance of the favela (which is feared by most gringos), I was caught off guard. I've become so jaded by the animalistic sex instincts that run rampant along the beaches of Rio that if someone where to go so far as open a car door for me I might literally drop dead of a heart attack... and/or suspicion!

My bro

Terere and his badassery before class!

So here I am today. Almost a year later (with not much success since) receiving relationship advice from my bro and BJJ legend Fernando Terere:

“Oh so nothing happened? But did you grab the snake? He’ll change his game up once you go there”

Oh duh. Why didn’t I think about that? Instead of sulking around the fringes of the dreaded “friend zone” I should have just grabbed his Johnson and immediately dispelled any unnecessary doubts!

To be continued: 
Sex on the Beach 3: 'Murica

Fun from the Favela

a little look into the cut of the Cantagalo Favela. This is a house that was built by a friend of mine and parent of one of the kids at the social project. They used to live in a cement house with the rest of their family (a good 6-7 people including kids in a small room) and build this house down here to be able to have some privacy. This is more than one house. 

Boxing Brazilian Style aka WTF is happening?!?!?!

Initially after losing I was pissed... After having my hand raised (2x) and then getting called back 10 minutes later to have the decision reversed, I was confident that Brazilians really needed to abandon all hopes at hosting the olympics and get back to the basics. Reading simple names, and differentiating colors and what not is essential to leading a productive adult life, inside and out side of the sports world.

In my opinion I outboxed her. Her punches were predictable and easy to block and counter. She was hesitant to attack and spent most of the fight skirting the ropes.

After watching the video, I still think I outboxed her. I will admit thought that she had some powerful spurts that won her the fight in the eyes of the biased judges (she is, after all, a well known local boxer and we were fighting in her venue). Technique is important, but I really need to work on my power. Planting my feet and sending someones head rolling across the ring will prevent further mix up decisions in the future.

The future being two weeks from now when I will be fighting MMA in Florianapolis, a beach town a little further south of Curitiba. The girl I'm fighting is AGAIN more experienced. 3-1, all 3 victories via 1st round submission. She's a purple belt (I'm a blue belt), but I'm not too worried about that. After watching some of her videos it seemed her opponents had no concept of take down defense or how to stop a submission what-so-ever, not to say that I shouldn't take her seriously!

The WTF is happening look on dudes face was priceless!

As we were called back to the ring for the third time he tells me 

"yeah my bad this shit tends to happen with her" 

Belts, however, only mean so much, especially when you add punching to the equation. One thing that has really stuck with me when I find myself at a disadvantage on the ground is something I heard Terere say in an interview in respects to why he preferred passing as opposed to pulling guard. I don't remember the exact quote but the idea of it was him being claustrophobic and doing anything he could to get out from underneath a heavier opponent. All technique aside, violently shoving someone's head down and trying to stand up as aggressively as you can is amazingly effective. That's Favela Jiu Jitsu. That straight from the streets fighting mentality. F*#%! a "technical stand up", or a pretty sweep from closed guard, just GET YOUR ASS UP!

I have two weeks to cut 5 kilos and get ready for my MMA match. I'll be fighting the same day that teammate Jessica Andrade goes against Raquel Pennington in Las Vegas. Apparently I have a similar boxing style as Pennington so I'll probably end up doing a lot of stand up with her. She is a wild little thing. Where as I throw a lot of straight punches and cut angles, she is prone to coming straight in swinging. Which leaves me backed up into the cage, with my guard up, looking for an opening.

This weeks goal... to anchor down and figure out how to stop the attack! Hitting harder is probably step 1!

On that note I'm going to watch a movie and I will leave you here with my to watch my fight! Oh did I mention that that was hands down the WORST skirt that I could have fought in!! Some sewing will definitely be done before fighting in it again!

you missed it! The fight was taken down! 

From the Connection Rio Hostel to the PRVT Brothel

Ok so its not a brothel, but Ludas (gladiator training school) just didn’t have that poetic ring to it so yeah….

Almost two years ago I arrived in Rio, with no Portuguese or Jiu Jitsu skills and no clue what I was lay ahead of me. Now, I’m in Curitiba, about to start a new stage, which will hopefully lead me home… with a nice MMA record and even more hopefully, signed to Invicta FC. Either way, I’ll actually be fighting for a change, which was not happening while I was training at Nova Uniao.

Day 1 in Curitiba.

I woke up to the sounds of voices rattling off numbers. I opened my eyes, taking in the gleaming white canvas of the boxing ring that was parallel with my mattress. Well, actually, I have no idea whose mattress it was, but it served its purpose.

Sleeping ringside

I reached out and touched the canvas, an act of reverence or maybe just a way to ground myself amidst the tumult of continuous sacrifice and uncertainty. The numbers and voices slowly began to form intelligible sequences. Weight. That’s right. I rolled out of bed (literally), stumbled to my feet and peeled off the majority of my clothes. I mumbled a good morning, in what I believe to be Portuguese and ambled off to the back of the gym in search of a scale.

One of the many uncertain variables in my life was an MMA fight, supposedly some two weeks away. I had been told weeks ago while I was still in Rio trying to get my life condensed into 2 suitcases and ready to move that I should come ready to fight at 52K (115lb). When cutting weight, its important to weigh yourself in the morning before eating or drinking anything. This is your true weight and from there you know how much you can eat, how much to work, and how much rest you can enjoy on any given day. My actual weight class is 105 lbs, I haven’t fought at 115 since losing to UFC Strawweight Tecia Torres at IKF some 3 years ago.

Once I checked my weight I scurried back to my bed in search of my clothes. Curitiba is too damn cold. In the favelas of Rio it is not uncommon to find me running around in sports bra and shorts. Its too damn hot in Rio to be constantly washing sweaty shirts, especially when you are constantly climbing up and down stairs. I can take a punch to the face, but I can’t deal with the cold to save my life.

I arrived in Curitba on a weekend so I had a few days to hang out around the gym before getting in any training on Monday. Since my last visit to Curitiba the gym had expanding and acquired two new inhabitants. Mariana Morais, from Invicta FC, and Istela Nunes, a bad ass Muay Thai fighter with 45-3 record, who had just returned from Thailand. There was now an extra room in the back from these two and what would become a separate apartment for Priscila Souza. Priscila, a native of Rio, has been fighting for PRVT for two years now and after her upcoming fights this summer will be bringing her two daughters to live with her at the gym. Mestre Parana, has apparently been scouring Brazil in search of top female talents and recruiting them to the team. That is, after all, how I ended up living here in Curitiba in the middle of nowhere.

I will take this time to note that I don’t actually live IN Curitiba. I live in the desolate, deserted, dreary metropolitan area of Curitiba, or Sao Jose da Pinhais. There is a whole lot of nothing here, and I’m dependent on other people to get from place to place, which sucks. BUT, I’m here for the promise of fights not to have a good time. Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice.

My stay at the gym was short lived, as they don’t have a stove, and I was spending mad skrilla eating in the street. So, Monday after training, I packed my limited things and went to the house that Parana rents for the fighters so that I could use the stove and wash my clothes. (Due to a major incident at the airport and subsequent breakdown, I only have half the luggage I was traveling with… and not the half that contained my boxing gloves, tennis shoes, or UNDERWEAR! God do I want my underwear!). 

Skip through a few days, some normal training, me getting my head shoved into fences, and thrown on the ground, blah blah this that and now on to:

Day 5 in Curitiba

Its now Wednesday and my bags are still packed and shoved into random nooks and crannies in an incredibly overcrowded room that I’m sharing with two guys. There are two single beds and a potent smelling queen sized mattress that gets throw down in the middle at night, claiming every last inch of floor space that remains. Thankfully, I used to live at Connection Rio, in a house with give or take 25 male fighters and one other Nicole. I had to share a room with 5 other guys plus a multitude of damp kimonos, so cramming into a room with only two other people is kind of luxurious for me.

I'm counting on this kid not speaking English and therefore, 

never clicking the link and knowing I took this picture...

and then made it public!

My fight that was scheduled for the 16^th of August fell through. Apparently the girl and the money weren’t right, so nothing was finalized. Parana, however, wastes no time and is already looking for another fight. In the mean time, Mariana Morais who is signed with Invicta FC will be... or has signed the contract for her first fight. I'm not sure if it's been announced, so more on Mari's fight camp in a future post. Until then check out some of me playing with a camera! 

My new crib... big switch up from the favelas of Rio

Istela with a vicious head kick... 

I choked her out yesterday so I'm definitely going to be watching out for this baby flying at my head! 

About Last Night

“Heroes didn't leap tall buildings or stop bullets with an outstretched hand; they didn't wear boots and capes. They bled, and they bruised, and their superpowers were as simple as listening, or loving. Heroes were ordinary people who knew that even if their own lives were impossibly knotted, they could untangle someone else's. And maybe that one act could lead someone to rescue you right back.”

I’m writing this blog in response to some friends that expressed some hesitation about moving or visiting Brazil because I'm “struggling all the time”.

True story. The struggle is real.  The last month has been… difficult to say the least, but that’s life.

I live my life in the moment, bouncing from one crazy adventure to the next and seldom knowing what the next day, or the next week is going to bring. I just have this goal, this idea… this carrot on a stick in front of me that I keep chasing like a lunatic, and I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world.

Timing is everything.

I’m sitting on my roof drinking coffee now and a dealer just hopped over from the adjacent roof with walkie- talkie in hand, said hi and proceeded to jump to the next roof. I don’t know his name but he is related to Baby, one of the first people I ever met on my own in the favela. Baby has spent the last 8 months serving a 6 months sentence in jail.

My life is chaotic, but I’ve learned that it’s a lot easier to roll with the punches than it is to try to impose structure and organization on something that is inherently uncontrollable.

Timing is Everything

David and Goliath

Foto by Dan Behr

Two weeks ago I had no money, I was eating with my boxing coach and training in the favela because I didn’t have bus fare. But I am a strong believer in Karma and what goes around comes around, so when shit hits the fan I just sit back and wait for the blessing to rain down. 

Over the last two days, I’ve accumulated so much money that I’m paying other people.

The social project is doing better than ever, I'm moving in a couple of weeks, and my last weeks here I've been teaching a ton of English classes and enjoying my last weeks in Rio with the people I love. 

On the way home from Lapa

Timing is Everything.

6 A.M this morning and I was rocking combat boots, bright blue pants, and a hoody on the beach. It wasn't long before we were running into the (cold) ocean water after night in Lapa.

Bronx Jiu Jitsu

B*&#$ don’t kill my vibe

Photo by BJJ Hacks

It’s wintertime in Rio, and I’ve been preparing to move to Curitiba, the coldest city in Brazil. Everyone else, however, is flocking to Rio to kick it for the summer. Last Tuesday, I found myself posted up on a street corner at 1A.M in the morning waiting for my friend Fernando from Bronx Jiu Jitsu. I met him last year when he came to Rio to learn more about social projects and brush up on his jiu jitsu. This year,  two days after schools in New York let out, he came back with his family and friends in tow.

Connection Rio @ Cantagalo 

(They're not in Kansas anymore)

Connection Rio is my go-to place to reconnect with my Gringo-ness, the nature, or just to find a drilling partner to spend the afternoon with. Located in the quiet, multimillion-dollar neighborhood of Barra da Tijuca, it’s the perfect place to hang out on the weekends and get away from all of the craziness here in the Favela.

This week though, I decided to pull the gringos from their comfort zone and take them to train at Terere Kids Project/ Academia Fernando Terere (only after walking them through the feared favela’s and taking them to grub at Terere’s favorite restaurant).  I'm so used to the favela and all of its dirty, drug infested, rat ridden craziness that I don’t realize how shocking it is to go from the beaches and bars of Ipanema to hopping over shit in the narrow, cement lined alley ways lined with graffiti from inspiring artists and death threats from the local gang (Red Command). I think some of them were pretty shocked at what they saw! After training that night the Bronx BJJ crew headed back up to the favela for some BBQ and Caiprinha's. 

BootJuice BJJ

My friends from New York aren't the only people that came to spend summer in Rio. My homeboy Moz is also in Rio for the summer escaping the crappy English weather in Hudderfield-or-something, England. I met Moz last year at the Connection Rio house and have been training BJJ and watching shitty movies with him ever since. I help him with almost everything he needs to do that involves the Portuguese language (which is a lot of stuff considering he lived here for a year...) and he helps me suck less at jiu jitsu (and he's generally down for helping me with manual labor around the favela). 

Timing is Everything

David and Goliath 

Moz wanted to film a technique with one of the sponsored athletes (that destroys everyone) from the social project for his blog Tales from Deep Half, so I figured I would take advantage of the opportunity and see if I could get HT from BJJ Hacks to film it for him and take some professional pics that I could use for my Fightland Vice articles. HT helps me out a lot with the "social media" aspects of my social work I always appreciate when he comes to the project to do some filming (or when he answers the numerous questions that I ask him when I could probably just google it). HT and Moz are two more examples of the cool ass people and experiences that I have gotten to acquire that make living so far away from my friends and family worth it. 

So long story short. Yeah, the struggle is real, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world, especially not a 9-5 job. 

How many people do you think slept in a room this size?

30

Kicking it with this dude that works as a doorman in the community before boxing at Nobre Arte.  He was talking about the 10 years he spent in jail. Sleeping on the floor in overcrowded rooms and no space to stretch your legs. Its humbling travel the world and get an opportunity to sit a hear people's stories. 

#LivingtheDream

#AboutLastNight

Caiprinhas in Lapa

Lapa!!!

Friday night in the Cantagalo Favela

Dude the Sell Caiprinha's friday

nights in the favela