– Don’t open it here, please.
– Why not?
– It’s very disrespectful, come on.
– I will do it very discretely.
Marissa opened the beer can in the car and had a sip. Litz felt a little bit of tension, but luckily the driver didn’t notice what happened. A few people could speak English in Brazil and Uber drivers were not among them. Litz left her can closed anyway.
The two girls were dressed up and were going to the famous samba street party at Pedra do Sal. They didn’t trust buying drinks on the street, so they had bought their own in advance.
It was Monday night. Litz suddenly remembered a night in Rome at the famous Qube club, when even her male friends put on some make-up (later on it was closed for security reasons). Somehow she felt scared. Monday is symbolically the day of the Moon. And the Moon means instability.
The party was very humble but extremely crowded. Just three music players on a precarious stage under a big tent with a few girls around them. One of them was wearing only a bra as a top. Fairly common at parties in Rio. The two girls’ dresses weren’t nearly short enough in comparison to those of local girls.
They reached some friends and got loose dancing samba. Litz finally opened her can. She smiled watching one of her male friends kissing a cool guy. Although being very sexist, paradoxically Brazil was extremely advanced in terms of LGBT culture. No one cared about homosexuality, it was very common indeed.
At some point a guy approached Litz. He presented himself, offered his hand to shake and asked her name. That meant: I am seriously into you. She was not interested, but she knew she had to reject him politely:
– Nice to meet you. My name is Litz.
The guy replied: – Where is your boyfriend?
L: – He is at home in my country.
G: – Does he let you go alone?
L: – He does, indeed. I’m a faithful girl. I would never offend him.
G: – Alright. Have a good night, Litz!
That was the only way to reject Brazilian men: pretending to have a boyfriend whom you are very faithful to. Any other excuse wouldn’t stop their aggressiveness. Acting too assertively could provoke their violence instead.
At some point some friends had left (or maybe were lost in the crowd). They were all girls and one only guy, who clearly appeared like a foreigner, so they had become an easy target. They decided to leave the party and stopped at a street food place, because one of the girls wanted to eat something.
Litz wasn’t hungry and was always vigilant. She saw two black guys approaching her male friend.
– Hey man, where are you from?
They asked. He replied:
– I’m from Russia.
– You have beautiful girls in Russia, man.
They said, pointing at the girls. They had thought he was a pimp. In Brazil prostitutes went also to parties, especially those with many tourists like Pedra do Sal. That meant real pimps would get angry to find him in their territory. He hadn’t realized the danger of the situation. Litz called him:
– Ivan, let’s go!
They left. While they were walking away, Litz noticed an edgy guy following close to them. He looked at her intensely. He was holding a belt.
– Call a Uber. Now!
Litz asked her friends. One minute later they had jumped in a car, directed to Lapa.
Lapa was quiet on Monday night at 3 am. They sat down in the only shitty bar open and ordered caipirinha for everybody. Litz drank it fast. Because of the crowd, her friends hadn’t noticed at all about the danger. She hoped the cocktail would calm her nerves. It didn’t.
She ordered some whiskey.
