Sometimes, Hollywood doesn't get it too wrong.
Like today, when in the midst of a vicious gunfight (small handguns, lots of varying calibers of machine guns, and at least one tank), the community radio came on and gave us ironic background music. Soft 1980's pop and Brazilian love songs...."Sailing...takes me away again..." or "One Moment in Time," something cheesy about "ebony and ivory, living together in perfect harmony" and other such fluff.
I watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith tonight when I managed to leave the favela and couldn't help but laugh at the similarities.
It's the most healthy thing we seem to be able to do in the circumstances. My 70ish upstairs neighbor, "Grandma," joked with me about the need to get Kevlar vests and possibly put a fireman's pole in to connect our houses, thus eliminating the danger of going up and down the outside stairs in the event of a shootout. I couldn't believe we were talking about this, or that she was the one shuffling over to the window to take a peek...we were incredulous because there were people actually in the middle of the street who jumped a bit closer to the walls when the shots echoed past. HELLOOOO. It's practically an all out war, and you think you can just go sauntering down the streets??? Wait 15 minutes, people.
I can't decide if it's idiocy, apathy, or bravery.
But I wait until it's calm again. My guardian angel deserves some breaks now and then.