They say that Cariocas are some of the nicest people in the world, that Rio is one of the friendliest cities in the world. It's probably true. When you ride the metro or the bus, older people rarely remain standing for long - someone usually offers their seat, in stark contrast to what Lisa and I saw this summer in Europe and, especially, what I've witnessed in New York on various occasions.
On the ride home today, there was an old man, wearing a blue shirt and denim jeans, held up by suspenders. I've never seen suspenders put to such purposeful use, where the wearers pants actually would fall off if not for them. They were a pair of denim jeans that looked original, historical, perhaps one of the first pairs of jeans ever to be made. He reminded me of perhaps a farmer, a wanderer during those Dust Bowl days in the 1930s. No one got up to give him a seat, though. It was around 5 p.m., during rush hour, but still. I was a bit disheartened. He looked like he needed a seat.
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