The novelty of arriving in a foreign place and swiping my phone a few times to get picked up in air conditioned comfort had not worn off. Mostly for the air conditioning. We had arrived in Rio after a few days in the North of Brazil in the city of Salvador, a pace filled with music, European architecture and the occasional gringo.

Once in Rio de Janiero, it wasn't long before the snarling traffic and busy streets gave up their fight to block the city's natural beauty and I was staring at miles of oceanfront, or at a minimum, grassy hillsides which blocked the blue sky. We had given our Uber driver the address for our Airbnb accomodations. That sentence could mean a lot of things depending on where you are. In New York, that could mean an $80 ride to go 3 miles for a sky-high apartment. But for us it meant a $15 ride to the outskirts of the Favela do Leme, a police-protected favela on the outskirts of Leme beach, just to the northeast of Copacabana.

If the Airbnb pictures lived up to the hype, we would be relaxing in a hammock in no time. As the car pulled up to Bar do David, the local restaurant and bar at the base of the steep hill of the favela, we were greeted by a flurry of activity. The wait staff sat down next to customers taking orders in outdoor seating that blended into the street itself. Next to Bar do David was a less pricey restaurant which barely attempted to distinguish itself between home and dining establishment.

This was the Leme Favela - everything moving at once - kids playing after school, the sounds of futbol and gospel-influenced music blending together. Smells of Bar do David's carefully prepared food transitioned to aromas closer to the streets of New York as we climbed the hill tour Airbnb not-quite-paradise. The above picture of the apartment was the highlight - there's a reason the bedrooms weren't shown in the original listing... No matter - Bar do David was really good - we went there 2 times, and it reflected the 2 sides of Brazil fighting for the spotlight.

The first time we came to Bar do David was the authentic Brazil.

"Do you know this man?" David himself, the owner of the bar and restaurant proudly held a photo of a businessy-looking white man. From David's grin ear to ear I knew I was expected to know the main in the photo posing with David.

"Err... ahh.. Oh, I can't think of it."

"Michael Bloomberg!" David exclaimed. I know the basics of Bloomberg's background, but I admit that "old white man" would have been my best guess with politics thankfully out of my mind for the past few days of the trip.

"Oh wow, that's awesome," I replied. I was genuinely surprised which can often be confused with sarcasm since the range of my inflection is as broad as the back of a Fiat.

"He came to visit - right here." David was beaming at this point. And it was clear why the community around Leme was so proud of this place. The food was of course very good. Simple dishes like pork and beans, steak and salad, fried fish and mashed potatoes - all of which sound better explained in Portuguese, all for about $3 US.

But more than the food, Bar do David represented the warmth of being welcome. It represented the simplicity of what locals love about Rio and maybe Brazil in general. Simple, bold flavors, enjoying the warmth of the sun, being close to a stiff … — But more than the food, Bar do David represented the warmth of being welcome. It represented the simplicity of what locals love about Rio and maybe Brazil in general. Simple, bold flavors, enjoying the warmth of the sun, being close to a stiff drink, but never getting too far from family. It was a great introduction to the favela, which still had its rough spots. Outside of the aromatic food, a few yards away from the restaurant were the smells and sights of real life. Laundry drying, pets roaming (and leaving a trail), graffiti that celebrated Brazil but also complained about life's hardships.
Our waitress was patient with us as we translated the menu word by word and smiled with a nod as we (mostly my girlfriend) suggested Spanish translations for the Portuguese words of "grilled", "soup", and "blackened".
"Sim, Sim!" She agreed with a smile. Looking both frazzled and happy at the same time. She was around 7 months pregnant, we learned, hoping to name her daughter Sofia. For a second, we felt a part of the small community. To our eyes, worries about the stalling economy, impending impeachment proceedings and other news-cycle concerns didn't seem to be on the minds of those around us. But then again, the crashing waves close by do wonders to lessen the noise of all those struggles.

The second time we came to Bar do David we seemed to experience the Brazil the world it expects it to be. With the World Cup a few years ago, and the upcoming Olympics. Brazil (Rio especially) wants to continue proving to the world that it is a world-class place. Walking around Ipanema, Santa Theresa and the houses by Rio's lake - it seems to be true. There are beautiful people and expensive restaurants. Bikeshare racks line the streets between vendors selling everything from coconuts to fried cheese. (I really don't understand fried cheese as a beach food - vendors set up a small fire of charcoal and then heat up the cheese for you to enjoy in the hot sun. Sounds refreshing?...)

The entertainment side of Rio does live up to the hype. But still, it's as if the beachfront would like to be a 24/7 music video in real life. It seems to be what tourists expect, no matter how hard it is for locals to afford the food, or how long it takes for beach rental stands to set up the yards and yards of umbrellas, caipirinha tables, volleyball nets and beach chairs.

As we sat at Bar do David the second time, our server was just as friendly, but a little more tired. Bar do David was applying for one of its dishes to be nominated in a regional "Best of Rio" contest. She was dutifully folding flyers and describing the seafood appetizer to the bar patrons. Bar do David was trying to establish itself as more than a watering hole for the favela community and tap into the more lucrative Rio tourism scene. As we sat, a promotional yellow car rolled up, blaring music. Out stepped a male and female model, smiling and high-fiving the formerly peaceful Bar do David patrons.

Shots of Santa Dose were poured. A disturbingly tasty combination of banana and cachaca, the promoters circled the bar, bringing the blaring music of Lapa into the relatively quiet hillside.

The sweet shots and bumping music reminded me of the constant battle to exude the club vibe that is the Rio stereotype - easy women, flowing drinks, glistening sand. But at the same time, people have to live. Little Sofia will be born in a few more weeks to a country struggling to live up to its BRIC expectations that were so promising 10 years ago. Michel Temer's temporary place of leadership has a lot to address as he leads while Rousseff defends herself during the simultaneous gold medal battles ensue.

I loved my short stay in Rio and a few other places in Brazil. It's a country that celebrates its African influences, rather than tucking them away, as some places in South America do. It's a country that knows it has many natural resources but also knows beauty is nothing without having friendly people. I can pretend that all of Rio's struggles were summarized in two visits to a small bar/restaurant in a favela, but that's far from the truth. Like any country, it's story takes a lifetime to experience and generations to understand.

Regardless, go visit Rio and any other place in Brazil when you can. It lives up to the hype, even if the hype is being forced on you by the latest sponsored liquor.