Why I Left Brazil


On October 2, 2014, after 16 consecutive months in the country, I left Brazil with no plans to return. In retrospect, I’m sure I’d have imagined such an early departure as an unacceptable failure if asked in June 2013, when I flew to Rio on a one-way ticket to run Favela Experience.

Back then, I was zealous about proving all the doubters wrong. How exactly those aware of my unconventional business doubted me didn’t really concern me. In reality, many friends, faculty, and acquaintances expressed their confidence in my personal success, in spite of their uncertainty about my business. Nonetheless, I internalized a battle narrative of me versus the world. I was the guy who was going to show everyone that “slum tourism” could not only be ethical and beneficial, but that it could make millions of dollars. I was going to exemplify on a large scale that travel can be a force for good. Regardless of my lofty vision, every academic who accused me of exploitation, every well-to-do Brazilian who gasped in fear, and every investor who shuddered at the concept only further isolated me in my one-man crusade.

By the end of 2013, witnessing my meager savings dwindle to “Oh, shit!” levels, I reached peak loneliness and capitulation. I’d spend days on end by myself in my apartment lying in front of my laptop while a dusty fan blew hot, balmy air into my face from a foot away. It was then I resolved to just get through the June-July FIFA World Cup in order to fulfill our business obligations and leave Brazil.

Besides that, I became pessimistic about fulfilling my aspirations in Brazil as I researched the incorporation, tax, and immigration challenges for a foreign entrepreneur. I quickly came to admire the gringos who manage to grow businesses against the current of inefficiency and corruption in the country. For me, it was already hard enough to make sufficient money to feed myself.

Suddenly and partly by virtue of being in the right place at the right time, Favela Experience began to show promise. We launched a moderately profitable crowdfunding campaign pre-selling World Cup accommodation, we were featured in The New York Times (commencing a media onslaught that lasted through the tournament), I hired our first Rio-based interns, and the busy summer season began.

Nonetheless, I couldn’t fully revel in the sales and recognition because the high volume of guests affected me in an unpredictable way. Until then I’d convinced myself it was better to stay in one place for a long time to understand the culture and build meaningful relationships with locals. However, experiencing the transient nature of my guests, who were often on South-America-wide or even round-the-world journeys, made me jealous. My customers were awaking every day to the wonder of something new while I was stuck in one spot, facing the frustrations of being a solo, immigrant founder in a developing country.

Even though Favela Experience performed well during the World Cup, the frenetic, global atmosphere of the tournament just solidified my wanderlust. With each new customer’s travel tale from an unexplored part of the world, my dream itinerary grew by a leg. After nearly three years of working and studying in Latin America, I was comfortable enough with the region that I wanted to travel somewhere completely different. Thanks to the World Cup rush and my frugal lifestyle, I’d probably saved more money than my classmates doing banking in New York, so I was ready to take my dream trip.

Continuing Favela Experience

But I had one last moral and logistical quandary. I couldn’t simply abandon what we’d built in Brazil. Of course, I desired to give continuity to something into which I poured my soul, something that subsumed my identity. I’d feel riddled with guilt if I were to have simply closed the business and left.

There were a few options, but I wasn’t very hopeful about any of them. All the possibilities I saw were constrained by perhaps my greatest failure–creating a small business dependent on me instead of a modular, standardized system that any qualified team could run. It was I who possessed all the trust-centered relationships, understood the cultural nuances of business in the favela, and developed the intuition to handle every problem. And it was I who also failed to document our business’ processes, which would allow me to best transition the business to other people.

At first, I toyed with the idea of hosts independently managing the entire hospitality experience at their respective properties all under the umbrella of the Favela Experience brand. The flaw in that plan was that we’d struggle to teach our hosts that which was the core value we already offered them. How could we train favela residents to have a foreign traveler’s perspective, business acumen, and an understanding of online marketing, let alone do so in a few months?

Of course, some people have asked me why didn’t I sell the business. Maybe I underestimated what we’d built, but it seemed obvious that Favela Experience was too small and its value too intangible to be bought. Morever, there’s a long history of for-purpose ventures being sold to companies with no regard for their social impact.

Unexpectedly, a solution emerged after explaining my predicament to my friend Adam Newman, a fellow American entrepreneur in Rio. Without telling me, he began hatching a proposal to take over Favela Experience. A few days before the World Cup opening ceremony, over a meal at my favorite favela restaurant, he presented his vision, and we agreed to make it happen.

Initially I was uneasy introducing Adam to hosts as a new partner in the business while withholding my plan to leave. My logic was that I wanted to wait until the hosts were comfortable with Adam before making my announcement. After all, I deeply cared for our hosts as they were truly more than business partners. By spending so much time inside their homes, I felt I was a part of their families, having come to appreciate their wide-ranging eccentricities. Fortunately my goodbyes didn’t become teary pleas for me to stay as I’d imagined, but the discussions were still difficult. One family even guided us together in Christian prayer with our eyes closed and hands interlocked. Nonetheless, I was unsettled by their genuine expectation that I’d return to Brazil soon, given my uncertain career path.

Many meetings between us and hosts later, Adam and his partners Rodrigo Viera from Uruguay and Facundo Esain from Argentina assumed full control of Favela Experience. I simply gave them the business for free, meaning I no longer have any decision-making authority or ownership. To abate my nostalgia for Brazil, I’ll continue as an advisor to Adam, but I’m not involved in daily operations because I want to be able to fully focus on future endeavors.

I’m confident favela tourism has a brighter future than ever with this new team, and I’m excited for what they’ll accomplish especially with the upcoming 2016 Summer Olympics.

The Favela MBA

From such a formative experience my greatest lessons are far more about myself and far less about business.

First and foremost, I erred in starting a business alone. Despite some great interns along with supporters in Rio and at home, there was never anyone as emotionally or financially invested in the business as I was. There wasn’t anyone with whom I could share the victories and commiserate about the headaches. Being a lone founder is an experience of intense solitude, and I’m not, nor do I think I need to be, equipped to do it again. Complimentary skillsets are beneficial, but if you have no one to motivate you and hold you accountable, then it’s hard to even employ your own limited skillset.

In addition, I realized I’m not fit in a role revolving around customer service. Those most effective at making angry customers happy don’t make excuses. Instead, they assume blame regardless of whose fault it is in order to swiftly reach a solution. I did this a lot in order to satisfy guests and hosts, and it was draining. I know customer service is mandatory for founders when starting, but in my next venture I’ll have to quickly transition out of that responsibility. Clearly my aversion to customer service mostly precludes me working in the hospitality industry again.

Most importantly, despite the mixed outcome of my first attempt at social entrepreneurship, I’m hooked. I view for-purpose businesses, particularly those targeting poverty and climate change, as the single greatest contributor to a better world in this century. This is what I’m dedicating myself to, and I believe I’m the right person to start and run these businesses.


0 Deaths, 0 Injuries

“0 Deaths, 0 Injuries”–that’s what the newspaper headline inside my head read in the aftermath of the mental hangover that was the World Cup for Favela Experience. Of course, maybe the same couldn’t be said for the crusading hordes of Argentine fans, at least in terms of the masses who caravanned back to Buenos Aires with dead spirits and injured hearts.

But guess what–we did it! We quite smoothly provided accommodation in two favelas across 10 properties for about 175 guests from around the world over the month-long World Cup period. Better yet, all that activity generated around $45,000 US dollars for favela host families. Putting that in perspective, minimum wage is about $10 US dollars per day here, and Rio’s one of the most expensive cities in the Americas.

Above all, no one died, and I proudly say that only somewhat in jest with skeptics in mind. Whether it was football hooliganism, theft, or opportunistic gang invasions, many journalists, advisers, friends, and potential customers doubted the security of guests in our accommodation and more generally the neighborhoods where we work, particularly during World Cup pandemonium. As has been the case since Favela Experience housed its first guests a year and a half ago, none of our guests reported any crimes committed against them inside the favelas. However, some guests were dog-piled on and robbed during the celebration of a Brazil goal while in the official FIFA Fan Fest viewing area of Copacabana beach. That’s just another anecdote among many that I can point to when travelers reflexively choose to stay in traditional tourist neighborhoods out of safety fears, even though that’s where they’re targeted.

Beyond that, guests were generally satisfied, in spite of our worry that the higher prices for the World Cup could have led to unrealistic expectations of comfort and service for favelas. One guest even wrote me, “[…] this has been the best experience of my travelling life.” Luckily, a positive contributing factor was that our properties had relatively few issues with the supply of water, electricity, and internet, which have often sparked the most complaints from guests who struggle to temper their “First World” expectations. I guess the Brazilian president’s current reelection bid and desperation to look good on the world stage had something to do with the reliability of public utilities. If only that urgency and public pressure could hold year after year.

There were a few incidents nonetheless, but perhaps the oddest was that some Singaporean guests were flying an aerial photography drone off the rooftop of their rental property. When the host found out, he had to calm the nerves of his neighbors, who’d probably never witnessed a camera-equipped drone buzz past their windows. Fortunately, the hyper-suspicious pacification police in the favela didn’t cause any problems. While water conservation, respectful noise levels, and cleanliness appear on our list of rules for guests, I never expected I’d have to add “No drones” on there as well.

Yet, for me, what was most encouraging was the vast diversity of our World Cup guests. They ranged from single male Latin American soccer fans to an American couple with four small children to even a group of 18 French teenage percussionists and chaperons sleeping on the floor of an NGO’s ballet studio. After all, Favela Experience’s mission is to expose travelers to the reality of favela life and break the negative stereotypes about these communities. Regardless of the fact that many of our guests may have booked with us to save money, they were forced to confront both the lively, welcoming nature of our favelas as well as the most pressing problems, such as open sewers. When their jealous friends at home question our guests about their exotic soccer vacations, their true stories instead of sensationalized media reports are what spread to change the perceptions of tens or hundreds times more people than our actual volume of guests. That may very well end up being the greatest impact we have on the world, and it’s an important one to be proud of.

Also key is that we couldn’t have pulled off this success without the steadfast support of two top-notch interns on the ground in Rio. Daniel from Costa Rica and Jo from England ran the show in the Rocinha and Vidigal favelas, respectively. Without them, there would have been some disastrous outcomes. They learned first-hand the challenges of hospitality, whether it was waiting hours for a delayed guest arrival on the street at the favela entrance or translating with police for a worried father whose drunken son had wandered off without returning for the night. I’m deeply grateful for their no-complaints, get-to-work attitude, and I hope they can draw upon their experience in future academic and professional endeavors.


Favela Experience World Cup team

Challenges and the Road Ahead

Ultimately, though demand was in step with our housing supply during the World Cup, what most constrained us was what most new businesses with grand aspirations run up against—trouble scaling. Specifically, it was tedious and costly to manage logistics and service for each customer’s stay. Cobbling together Google Drive forms and spreadsheets was a headache to customize for the unique components of each guest’s stay (e.g., group size, bed configuration, transportation, language spoken, etc.) and often last-minute requests. We ended up copying and pasting sections of text over and over into emails with frequent modifications specific to each guest. A few times we’d make careless mistakes, occasionally resulting in confusion particularly around the check-in process. Of course, it didn’t help that guests usually lacked working cell service in Rio and sometimes would change their arrival plans without notice.

Now amid the lull of the low tourism season and two years before the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio, we have a chance to adapt our very high-touch, low-tech service model to accommodate magnitudes more visitors. While part of the value we offer guests is the friendly virtual and in-person contact with other foreigners who know the favelas, it wouldn’t make sense to continue this element in the clunky way we do now when at a greater size.

The way I envision Favela Experience growing in the future requires us to standardize our processes across all guests and hosts and shift more responsibility for guest logistics to hosts themselves, thus becoming more of a product or platform and less of a service. However, there are big changes coming soon I’ll talk about, so I don’t want to speak to soon before little has been decided.


An Entire Huffington Post Article Attacking Me and Why Beauty Exists in Poverty

Vitriolic Facebook comments, anonymous hate e-mails, academics’ recriminating insinuations—I’m very used to receiving criticism. I quickly learned after dedicating myself to Favela Experience that I’d have to defend the ethics and impact of what we do amid a niche of the travel industry that’s so (rightfully) lambasted. Still, it took longer to realize the spiteful passion our work triggers in often well-intentioned people.

On one end of the spectrum, I’m amused by messages like the following use of my website’s email contact form:

Hate Email

Opposite that is The Huffington Post article “One Step Forward, Ten Steps Back: On the Exoticization of Rio’s Favelas” by Gabriela Kruschewsky. The piece is a 1600-word indictment of our alleged exploitation of favela residents and irresponsibility toward visitors.

Ultimately, the author summarizes her point: “The problem is that only half of the information is being presented, only the pleasant half. And the way that it is being presented fails to convey that there are extreme implications that may hurt both the residents and the outsiders flocking to immerse themselves in the ‘real Rio’ come time for the World Cup.”

I can’t address the article’s arguments in earnest because of its sheer disregard for journalistic standards. Op-eds should go beyond feelings to facts. Yet, what should I expect when the writer’s recent portfolio includes “A Fantastic Game Of Dress-Up Transforms Baby Into Your Favorite TV Characters” on HuffPo and “23 Snazzy Nail Ideas For Thanksgiving” on BuzzFeed?

The glaring oversight is how the article cites no one involved with Favela Experience, neither me, team members, hosts, nor guests. It’s clear she made no attempt to interview anyone. Moreover, the author even admits that by not trying Favela Experience, she can’t conclusively judge the business. Still, she could’ve come much closer to doing so after minimal research, which would’ve yielded dozens of contacts, but I only discovered the article thanks to a Google Alerts notification.

Above all, declaring positive portrayals of marginalized places and people to be half-truths only further marginalizes them. Favelas don’t need a warning label as the writer asserts because international mainstream media already inflict far worse damage to their reputation. After all, is it wrong the luxury hotels on Copacabana beach don’t publicize how polluted the ocean water and even the showers on the sand are?

Just because these communities have dire problems (evident to any of our guests who quickly spot overflowing, street-side trash piles and open sewers), doesn’t mean visitors can’t appreciate the vast good here for the benefit of residents. Beauty is present everywhere here, and it’s damaging to always classify it in the context of poor education, health, and sanitation. A DataPopular study revealed 66% of favela residents don’t want to move, so favelas must have some advantages.

Yes, there are wrong ways for others to visit developing areas, but these communities can rise beyond even economic gain when travelers meaningfully interact with locals. By patronizing homestays as well as resident-led tours and establishments, visitors learn the reality of life in these places, both positive and negative. Travelers see value beyond the material, and the perception of worthlessness begins to change for favelas.

Favelas and similar communities around the world desperately need positive images to break unproductive stereotypes that further exclude and isolate them.  Only when we all recognize the good, not as a mere afterthought to the bad, will we integrate all parts into a more just society.


Why Everyone Should Be Broke (at Least Once)

I wake up to pee, limbo-ing because the wall above my toilet is low and sloped at 45 degrees. The flushed water flows into an open sewer 10 feet beneath my window, and above that is a chicken pen ruled by Ricardo the Relentless Rooster. Suddenly, Ricky’s ritual, 4:00 am cock-a-doodle-doo shakes me from my sleep. I struggle to shut my eyes while I lay on my mattress on the floor in an apartment so devoid of furniture that it could be a MOMA exhibition. Nodding off again, I blissfully dream of my cocky, feathery neighbor as breaded, fried, and cohabitating on a plate with his new neighbors mashed potatoes and gravy. A satanic, KFC Colonel cackles malevolently in the distance.

With morning sun blasting through my curtain-less window, I realize there’s nothing to eat for breakfast. A few minutes later at the market, grocery shopping for me has become a precise calculation of caloric density per Brazilian real. I get to the register, and the cashier’s swipe of my debit card is like a sharp slit to my wrist. Walking out with plastic bags cutting off circulation to my fingers, it’d be much easier to catch a bus, but climbing the vertiginous favela is cheaper than a gym membership.

Back at home, I contemplate going out at night, but why should I punish myself? Every club’s cover fee converts into a debt issued by my future self to my present self. The terms state I may only pay in installments of savings from eating cheaper meals.

I am broke.

And it’s the best thing I can be right now.

I don’t have a smartphone, a washing machine, a bed, a TV, curtains, or even a mirror. I don’t need any of these. I haven’t sworn them off forever, but my sabbatical from “essential” material possessions forces me to value and develop my most fulfilling personal relationships. I’ve found I have more fun resourcefully cooking a two-dollar meal with a friend than I do at a fancy restaurant.

Still, “broke” and “poor” are not synonyms. The latter is more permanent, more dangerous. Poverty means falling with no safety net to catch you before you hit the rock-solid ground of hunger, sickness, and vulnerability. Yet, if I were sick or helpless, I could depend on my family, friends, and government to assist me, but none are supporting me now. I’m incredibly fortunate that my white, male, Beverly Hills privilege will prevent me from ever knowing poverty.

Furthermore, as someone aspiring to build businesses that eradicate poverty while making profits, being broke is the true MBA. After all, good businesses intimately understand their beneficiaries. Good businesses immerse themselves in their customers, employees, and partners’ problems. Then, they create solutions to these problems, figuring out how to make money from them along the way. Empathy can’t be taught from a textbook—it requires genuine human interaction.

I’m never going to feel what it’s like to go to a deteriorating school and not be able to afford medicine. But, being broke forces me to smell the favela’s stench of raw sewage, sweat in the heat when the power goes out, and be stranded when there are no buses home late at night. Consequently, I’m a better mediator between my hosts and guests when the government decides the favelas can go without water for a few days.

I’m not ashamed to want to be very rich, but when I am, I hope being broke now makes me compassionate and modest in my future wealth.


What We’ve Done and Learned in Four Months

Rocinha photo

Credit: Zac Fabian/Rusted Reel Productions

I’m anxious, exhausted, and doubtful one hour, and excited, fulfilled, and hopeful the next. Never has my mood oscillated so much as now while running a business in one of the world’s most challenging environments. I feel that with every advance, there’s a burden of more being on the line.

Even before I plunged into this endeavor, the voice of reason in my head coached me into accepting the monumental challenge of building an enterprise with little experience in an industry and place I know so little about. The voice admonished me that I then couldn’t fathom how much would go wrong and how terrible and helpless it’d make me feel. In that sense Elon Musk is prophetic: “Being an entrepreneur is like eating glass and staring into the abyss of death.” I resigned myself to that fact as a fateful necessity like the sensation of being strapped snugly to a roller coaster and hearing that cranking sound in slowing intervals as you round the highest crest.

In spite of this, I don’t know how I could be more fulfilled. It’s exhilarating to “eat what you kill” and be ultimately responsible for your victories and defeats. Whether they’re delusions of grandeur or righteous thoughts, the fairy-tale success scenarios constantly play out in my head. Sure, there’s recognition, wealth, and influence, but there’s an even greater narrative of setting on a path to somehow meaningfully and positively alter the trajectory of the universe. That possibility is the pinnacle of self-actuation and the ultimate motivation.

Our Progress

As difficult as it has been, we’ve made concrete progress that we’re proud of:

  • As we recently started selling World Cup accommodations, we grossed four times more in August and September than what we grossed in June and July.
  • We’ve built our guest capacity to up to 50 people across 9 different properties, and now we’re temporarily holding off on building inventory as we focus on marketing for the World Cup.
  • We’ve (Now I can say “we” instead of “I.”) built the team and brought on both Carlos and Graham, who are helping out virtually outside of their primary commitments.
  • Agora Partnerships‘ Latin American impact accelerator (somewhat like a business incubator for for-profit social enterprises) admitted us into their 2014 cohort.
  • We’ve gotten 100% positive reviews from verified guests on Airbnb.

Lessons Learned

In the past four months, we’ve been surprised and humbled by some of the things we’ve learned that are in many ways applicable to other social enterprises and businesses in Brazil and beyond:

  • In almost every instance in which we’ve asked homeowners/hosts to make important investments out of their own pockets to upgrade their homes for guests, they’ve done so quickly and without much resistance. This was unexpected in that in some cases we’ve recommended nearly $1,000 in upgrades, representing a month or more of income, yet hosts obliged knowing their investments would pay off in the long-run.
  • Believe it or not, our hosts are more apprehensive about guests threatening their property and safety as opposed to the other way around. A key part of my job is assuaging hosts’ fears about guests damaging and stealing their property, engaging in illegal activity for which the host will be liable, and being disrespectful of their family and neighbors.
  • Especially as a new business trying to figure out who our customer are and want they want, we need to “do things that don’t scale,” according to the sage startup guru Paul Graham. We’ve learned lots of important things through time-intensive interaction with customers, which I surely won’t be able to do when we have 500 properties and dozens of new guests coming every day. Going out to lunch, the beach, and parties with customers helps me really understand their motivations and how to structure our offerings for people like them. It can also be pretty fun since our guests tend to self-select into a pretty adventurous, unconventional, and open-minded group.
  • At the same time, when customers are too demanding, we need to just say, “No.” Otherwise, we risk over-customizing our service to them and simply spreading time and money too thin.
  • Online marketing is a marathon, not a sprint. We’re dependent on online channels to direct bookings, but since we don’t have a marketing budget (Hooray for bootstrapping!), we have to constantly develop unpaid channels like SEO, social media, and PR. These all build on themselves over time, but it’s generally a slow start and gradual momentum from there.
  • Just because an organization is big and well-known doesn’t mean we can rely on them. Even big companies screw up the details, so we have to keep buffers and plan contingencies when small things with big consequences go wrong.
  • Advisers are great as a sounding board, but we need emotional support and encouragement just as much. Being a solo founder can be rough and lonely, but my friends, parents, and fellow entrepreneurs in Brazil have been pillars of support.

Undoubtedly, we’re going to make many more serious mistakes as we grow, and while they’ll sting in the moment, we’re ready to learn.


“Sim, vai ter Copa!”: Why Brazilians Should Want to Host the World Cup in Brazil

I’m re-posting the following guest post I wrote for my friend and fellow gringo Ilya Brotzky’s blog.


What words come to mind when you think of Brazil? If you were to ask that to virtually any foreigner, among “beaches,” “bikinis,” and “samba” would certainly be “football.” Of course, all these possibly pernicious stereotypes fail to demonstrate the cultural complexity of the nation, but it’s hard to deny that this country lives and breathes futebol. Then, it’s natural to believe that FIFA’s selection of Brazil for the 2014 World Cup is a perfect location for the event. Yet, it might shock you to learn that amid the recent, anti-government protests gripping the country, one of the common chants emanating from the crowds (and online) has been, “Não vai ter Copa!” (“There won’t be a Cup!”)

Photo credit: Fernando H. C. Oliveira

Photo credit: Fernando H. C. Oliveira

Given the movement’s outrage over government corruption, inadequate social programs, and the oppression of the middle and lower classes, this anti-Cup sentiment is understandable. The shady contracts given to suspicious companies for the construction of infrastructure will exceed the cost of the past three Cups combined. Those opposed to the Cup assert that the billions of reais spent in preparation for the event would be better spent on hospitals and schools than on shiny, new stadiums.

Nonetheless, in spite of these mega-events often failing to leave the positive legacies they promise, the Brazilian people stand to gain a lot from the Cup beyond tourism revenues and extended metro lines.

Though many might discount national sporting success as a distraction to dupe the masses, a Brazilian title victory in 2014 would renew national pride and unity during this time of distrust and pessimism. Given the national team’s landslide win in the Confederations Cup against defending World Cup champion Spain, winning a record-extending sixth World Cup is a good possibility especially with home field advantage. Furthermore, try telling the 65% of the country who still wants the World Cup that they shouldn’t be allowed to cheer for A Seleção on national soil.

Still, perhaps the Cup’s greatest benefit to the country can be the change it spurs in how the world perceives Brazil. Some 600,000 foreigners will descend upon Brazil, and the image of Brazil these revelers develop will propagate when they return home to share their experiences with multitudes more friends, family, and colleagues. Imagine if these visitors were to rave about helpful, foreign-language-speaking Brazilians as well as excellent service at restaurants and hotels in safe, clean neighborhoods.

What’s more is that the Cup will be the single most watched event ever to grace screens all over the globe. As such, with billions of people tuned in, there’s so much opportunity through media to showcase Brazil’s beauty, diversity, and accomplishments. What if the country were to rally behind a crowdfunding campaign to buy a commercial spot for the final match so as to portray all this country offers? Maybe then businesses would be more eager to work in Brazil, tourists would be more excited to visit here, and students would be more open to studying in the country.

As tainted by government, corporations, and FIFA as it might seem, the World Cup represents a rare opportunity to change Brazil for the better. Grassroots initiatives in technology, activism, art, and media can seize this event to shape Brazil’s future, but we need to be creative and resourceful in collaborating for the greatest impact.

Ultimately, the real question isn’t if Brazil will host the World Cup or even if we should want Brazil to host the World Cup. Instead, Brazilians and foreigners alike should be asking what we as citizens, tourists, and football fans can do to make the event the most beneficial possible for this promising country. In the meantime, let’s keep (peacefully) demonstrating for government transparency and public investments to improve Brazilians’ lives across all strata of society.