FUF correspondent Stella Monitor reflects on the more and less respectful ways that tourists choose to experience Rio de Janeiro.
I'm walking along the beach on Copacabana when a military green roofless jeep whizzes past me. Inside, tourists in safari hats can be seen, standing and giggling. Music blares from the speakers and wakes up the whole neighborhood.
When I first moved to Rio, I imagined that the jeeps and safari-clad tourists were headed for the large, beautiful national park that surrounds the city – it would have been reasonable given their choice of clothing and the size of the cameras around their necks.
But they are not going there. Nowadays, I know exactly where they are going, namely to one of the city's favelas.
The favelas are vibrant places. It's the kids kicking a ball, the old men swearing as they lean over a chessboard in the bars and the funk music that constantly echoes through the alleys.
They are also places characterized by poverty. Places whose inhabitants' value and very existence have been disregarded by the state. Today, they are one of the city's biggest tourist attractions.
It was probably no coincidence that favelaturism really took off after the film City of God (City of God) became a worldwide hit in 2002.
When I meet a Dutch backpacker, he gets all excited about the idea of living here, like me. He wants to "see the real Rio" which in his world means children with guns and open drug sales. As we talk, I imagine how he wants to feel the adrenaline pumping while taking a picture of a place and person he shouldn't.
This tourist is driven by a fascination with the favelas as places characterized by violence and crime.
I don't know if it's hilarious or just sad how narrow-minded we can be when we think that a 20-year-old fictional portrait of a favela, among about 700 around Rio de Janeiro, would represent all these different neighborhoods?
Cidade de Deus is not even within Zona Sul, the part of Rio that appears on the tourist maps, with sparkling white beaches and mountain peaks. As a tourist, you will not go outside the zone unless you make an active decision.
So how is it that this tourism, where people drive around in jeeps and view neighborhoods as if they were on safari - a tourism that reinforces rather than challenges stereotypes – continues to exist?
The simple answer is, as in all industries – money's! Just that in this industry they are generated in different ways and end up in different pockets.

When I visited the Morro da Providência favela, I was guided by Cosme, a local, born and raised in the area. He sees favela tourism as a chance to show tourists – both Brazilians and gringos – their reality, a more nuanced view of Rio and all its inhabitants.
The money we pay goes back into the community: to Cosme itself, to the small restaurant where we had lunch, and to an educational project where volunteers teach English to the children and adults of the area.
The jeep tours, on the other hand, are something completely different. No local guides are needed here. Instead, it's big companies that rake in the profits, while the "companies" - the criminal organizations that control certain favelas - get their share of the pie in exchange for letting the jeeps roll in.
Money changes hands, but does not go back to the communities being exploited.
So how should one approach favelaturism? It's about respect. Talk to the people, participate in their everyday life, accept that churrasco if you're invited.
But sitting in a jeep and watching everything from a distance? It's wrong. People are not sights, and favelas not savannahs. They are living communities – not some exotic scenery.
Do you want to read more about the impact of tourism?
https://fuf.se/magasin/atgarder-som-skyddar-miljon-mot-massturism/