A travel narrative with the flavor of Brazilian Jiu-jitsu
On the way to jiu-jitsu my bus stopped in front of a Brazilian Prison. There was a four meter high concrete wall, that’d been built out front, with razor blade barbwire added to its top. I walked for less than thirty seconds across one road then arrived at the street of the jiu-jitsu academy I’d aimed for.
It was in an industrial area of Brazil’s Santa Catarina, which at that time – 2009 – was completely foreign to me. In this street there were five oily mechanic shops, a hardware store, and a prison at one end of the street, accompanied by Brazilian shanty homes at the other.
What am I doing here? I thought to myself.
I found the address I’d been given, then entered a warehouse full of Brazilian jiu-jitsu black belts – Gracie Floripa – winners of “Brasileiro de Equipes 2007,” an annual competition…
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