Trouble—and Hope—in Brazil

A Small Story and a Big Reminder

When I was invited to speak in Brazil, I couldn’t have been more excited. It’s soccer mecca, and I’ve always wanted to visit.

But when I told my Brazilian friends that I was going to Sao Paulo and asked them what I must do there, they each said the same thing: Be careful. Travel guides and travel sites said the same, and so did the hotel receptionist when I arrived on Tuesday. I asked if it was safe to walk around in my downtime. He said, “Yes, as long as you’re back in the hotel by 4pm. And don’t keep your phone out either.”

I live in New York City, and I wear my turban everywhere I go. I consider myself a fairly vigilant person. But everything I’d heard raised my alarm bells and heightened my awareness. Fortunately, I was still able to enjoy it, walking around this massive city and seeing what life and history is like here. That’s my favorite thing to observe while traveling.

I stopped at a cafe nestled in a beautiful office complex. It was outdoors and cool and the chairs had great back support. I ordered an acai smoothie and pulled out my laptop. I sat and worked for a couple of hours, resisting the urge to order another smoothie (full disclosure: after three days in Brazil, my body is now 20% acai). I went to pay for my smoothie — but my wallet was no longer in the front pocket of my pants. Uh oh.

I rifled through my backpack pockets, once, twice, and a third time. Nothing there. I checked my pants again, and then went and search around my seat. My wallet was nowhere. I couldn’t believe that I had lost it within my first 10 hours of being in Brazil. The stress and concern washed over me, and worse still it was almost 4pm now. I wanted to get back to my hotel.

For the rest of the evening, I tried to ignore my stress. I needed to cancel my credit card and order a new license, but I didn’t have the heart for it or the energy either. I had come on a redeye from NYC, and I was wiped. I’d deal with it in the morning.

I went to bed early so I woke up early. I looked through the bag once more, this time dumping everything out in the hops of turning it up. No luck. I had some time before my first speaking commitment, so I decided to retrace my steps and see if I left it somewhere.

I walked from shop to shop, park to park, store to store, asking attendants everywhere I went if a wallet turned up. Each person shook their heads, apologized, and wished me luck. Finally, I went to the last place on my list, the cafe with the acai smoothie. I had zero hope because I had checked there yesterday. But losing a wallet is so stress-inducing and time-consuming. It was at least worth a shot.

I asked the young woman attending the register, and she said she hadn’t seen anything. I asked the woman mopping the floor, but she hadn’t seen anything either. She said the business office had an information desk on the first floor, and that I should ask there.

I walked through the doors to the business office, and as soon as the receptionist saw me, her eyes lit up. “I know you,” she said.

I’m not famous to anyone except my two baby girls, so I was taken aback. “Really? How do you know me?”

“Did you lose something?” she asked.

Now I understood why she knew me. I confirmed I had lost my wallet, and for the first time since I first lost it, I felt a tinge of hope.

“I have it,” she told me. “Come with me.”

We passed security and went into the elevator and up a few levels. She took me to a small room where her colleagues were. One of them popped into a small door, and came back with my wallet.

Relief washed over me. It wasn’t the biggest moment in the world, but man, did I feel grateful.

On our way back down to the lobby, I asked the woman her name. She told me: Giovanna. I thanked her profusely and asked if I could take a picture with her. She agreed and said I could share it online. We followed one another on Instagram, because yes, that’s what cool people do (follow her here!). And then I went on my way, feeling 20 pounds lighter because all my stress had melted away.

Giovanna and me :)

As I walked around town the next hour, I thought a lot about this woman. What did she gain by saving my wallet? Why did her face light up when I walked in? Why was she so happy to help me, a complete stranger?

I also thought a lot about my assumptions. I’d been told a story—and I’d been telling myself a story—about this city I was visiting. It’s too dangerous. Be careful. Don’t trust people.

Those things might be true. But isn’t that story so one-dimensional? Aren’t there good people everywhere? Giovanna is one example of that, and she’s a reminder to me of how easy it is to fall into a single story, to not give people or places a chance because we build up walls, blocking people out, never giving them a chance to meet us, and never giving ourselves a chance to get to know them.

Giovanna’s small example helped my see my mistake, and it reminded me how easy it is to fall into the trap of assumptions and stereotypes. It also reminded me of something I believe deeply: that even though there are people who are difficult and troubling and mean, there is goodness in everyone and there’s goodness all around us. It’s up to us to see it.

I’m on my way back to the US now, wallet in hand, reminder received. Thank you Giovanna, for being who you are and for teaching me.