Funny how time flies when you’re having floods.
I can’t believe that not even a year has passed since I posted about the disastrous rainstorms that wreaked havoc on Rio de Janeiro last April, with flooding and mudslides that killed hundreds and left thousands more bereft, their homes destroyed and possessions ruined.
Although the potential for landslides are high, public officials basically look the other way – until the announced tragedies take place.This week seemed like a terrible flashback of those days as, once again, annual rainstorms brought chaos to parts of São Paulo, Minas Gerais, Goiás, and, most tragically, the state of Rio de Janeiro.
Last year, the most catastrophic damage occurred in the city of Niterói, across the Baía de Guanabara from Rio itself, where close to 200 people were killed. This year, the tragedy has moved inland to the mountains behind Rio, specifically to a trio of ordinarily bucolic towns – the “imperial city” of Petrópolis (where Brazil’s Emperor Pedro II spent the summers); Teresópolis (named after Pedro’s wife, Teresa), and Nova Friburgo, which happens to be Brazil’s oldest (and only) Swiss colony.
With their vaguely Alpine climate and architecture, accompanied by tropically lush mountainscapes, these towns and the surrounding countryside have long been favorite getaways for well-heeled Cariocas looking to beat Rio’s heat. However, this week the only “getaway” associated with the region is the desire to flee for one’s life as the hills (literally) come tumbling down, burying roads, buildings, and people, in their wake.
While the lofty peaks of the Serra dos Órgãos, mountain range, carpeted in native Atlantic forest, are visually breathtaking, their height allows them to block the path of low-traveling rain clouds, which build up and then release their torrents onto slopes that are dangerously steep. The sheets of water that subsequently come racing down towards the populated valleys are accompanied by mud and even boulders. As if that weren’t bad enough, these towns are crisscrossed by creeks and rivers, which are ordinarily pastoral, but when filled to overflowing with rainwater and run-off, rise up and flood, invading houses and buildings and transforming streets into canals.
Flooding aside, the biggest problem in much of Rio de Janeiro is that, lacking space to expand, many people “invade” these precipitous hillsides and precariously build their homes upon them. Although the potential for landslides are high, public officials basically look the other way – until the announced tragedies take place. Despite being aware of the risks – and receiving funds to take preventive measures – accidents, and sometimes all-out disasters, happen repeatedly, year after year. Of course, the great majority of victims are poor – and tens of thousands of survivors are now completely destitute – however, in Brazil, even the rich “invade” land; to wit, amidst the images of buried shacks that have dominated the news, there have been a few summer villas and mansions as well.
As usual, public officials are blaming this year’s catastrophe on Mother Nature, and it’s true that rainfall has been particularly heavy this year. Various members of various governments (municipal, state, and federal) are also (subtly, and not so subtly) trying to pin the blame on one another. However, as news report this week astutely pointed out, Australia, which is currently dealing with vast floods of its own in Queensland, has received much higher volumes of rain and far fewer casualties (under 20).
Ultimately, in Brazil, the fault for so many lives lost is one of lack of preparedness. To date, over 630 people have died in this region of Rio de Janeiro state in the last few days – and many more are still missing – making this one of the worst national disasters in Brazilian history.
Such occurrences really underscore the dizzyingly perverse extremes that co-exist in Brazil. Amidst the frenzy of non-stop preparations for the upcoming 2014 World Cup and 2016 Olympic Games and a very real and unprecedented economic boom, this is still a country where hundreds are doomed to die in a rainstorm.