The Crumble

My first visit to Brazil was in March of 2013. Vacation in Rio. My first time spending Brazil's currency, the Real (pronounced: "hey al").

When the dinner bills arrived that week, there was a simple shortcut to figuring out how much we were really spending: Just divide it by two. You say the cab ride costs R$25? Well, that's just US$12.50, my friend.

Those times are gone. As of this moment, 1 Real is only worth US$0.35. That means by next week, those same dinner bills can be divided by three instead of two.

To bring it home even more, consider this: The maximum amount of Reais you can withdraw from an ATM here is R$1,000. I just checked my bank statements online. The first time I withdrew that much money was May of last year. It cost me US$457.89. Earlier this week, I withdrew the max again for only US$365.81.

In essence, I'm playing with about 93 extra bucks for free.

All of this is good news for American tourists who want to come down and get a little more bang for your buck. You may not see the savings when searching for flights or hotels. You will see it on the cab meter, the restaurant bill and at the local shopping mall.

For the 200 million Brazilians who call this place home, however, things are going from bad to worse to worser.

In many ways, I've lost a lot of patience with Brazil lately. It's clear that the simple solutions that everyone from the President to the corner grocer could make to dramatically improve things overnight will never be grasped. The old adage that "Brazil is the country of the future...and it always will be" rings louder every week.

The worst outcome of a faltering economy, though, is one that Brazil knows all to well. And for one of my friends, it just hit home.

Recently, a fellow gringo told some friends and me an unforgettable story. One day before, his girlfriend gave him a ride to work. She pulled to a stop on a corner in Jardins--the city's wealthiest and safest neighborhood--and he got out. This was around nine in the morning.

Before shutting the door, my friend turned around to get a sandwich from the car. When he turned back around, there was a gun in his face. A man on a motorcycle shouted a few orders at him. My friend coughed up his wallet and phone.

"No," the man said, "I want her Rolex."

He was referring to the watch on his girlfriend's wrist. Keep in mind, he's standing outside the car on the passenger side. How was he able to see from there what kind of watch she had?

My friend later realized that they had been targeted blocks before that. Nice car. Nice watch. They had either sat at a stoplight next to the motorcyclist or they had been spotted by an accomplice of his in a parked car who radioed his friend. Police are very familiar with this racket.

Either way, they had been followed.

The girlfriend handed over the watch. My friend put his hands in the air. Just then, he told us, a cop car turned the corner.

The motorcyclist took off. The cops sped after.

"You idiot!" A woman selling stuff on the corner called out to my friend. "Why didn't you grab his gun? It was a toy!"

My friend didn't have time to think about it. He and his girlfriend cautiously followed in the direction the cops went. A few blocks later, they saw the cops and the motorcycle and the thief--in custody. All their belongings returned.

They went to the police station next where, as Brazilian custom mandates, a lot of paperwork had to be filled out and processed. My friend talked to the police. He asked about the gun.

"That was no toy," the cops told him.

In fact, the police told my friend they think the gun was used to kill somebody a week ago.

They graciously thanked the cops. Their lives will go on as planned. For the thief, a long road either begins or continues.

My friend told me and some friends this story as we waited for a table outside of our favorite restaurant. Minutes later, we were ushered inside where we dined on steaks, duck, fish and one bottle of wine after the next. All of it cheaper than the last time we went. All of our pockets and bellies a little fuller.

After we paid the bill, we stepped back outside. I was headed with my friends down to the corner to catch a cab. My friend who had told us the story was going the other way.

"You sure you're alright?" I asked. It was 11:00 pm by now and he was going to walk the last few blocks home alone.

He said he was.

We said goodnight. We went our way. He turned and went his. On the corner, I hailed a cab and said bye to my friends.

We drove past the restaurant again, headed for home. I turned in my seat and looked out the window for my friend, but couldn't find him. Maybe I had missed him. Maybe he had rounded a corner. The dark streets whizzed past. The city's safest neighborhood drifted to sleep. I shook my head and turned back in my seat. The meter in front of me slowly ticked.

No matter how high it went, I could afford it.