Brazil’s rush to complete work on World Cup stadiums has been especially stressful for wheelchair-bound fans, who fear they will struggle with still-unfinished ramps, bleachers and sidewalks.
But a rehearsal game on Sunday in Sao Paulo was a pleasant surprise, disabled fans said, especially in a country where infrastructure is often deficient even for those with no impediments. They credited the army of support staff that may hold the key to Brazil’s broader chances for a glitch-free tournament beginning on June 12.
Congresswoman Mara Gabrilli, a quadriplegic and an international activist on disability issues, attended Sunday’s “test match” between two local club teams after receiving complaints about accessibility in many of Brazil’s 12 host cities.
photo: REUTERS
It took Gabrilli two hours, three subway trains, nine elevators and a wheelchair-accessible van provided by the city government to get from central Sao Paulo to Arena Corinthians, some 20km to the east.
IMPRESSIVE
Once she arrived, though, she was impressed. Hundreds of police, stadium staff and volunteers were on hand to provide directions, push wheelchairs over cracks and otherwise help atone for incomplete construction.
“It’s very organized,” said Gabrilli, a member of Brazil’s main opposition party. “So many people here to help! I’m surprised.”
Brazil’s World Cup preparations have been plagued by construction delays and canceled plans for trains and other public transportation projects. Fans are likely to face severe traffic and other bottlenecks.
FIFA, soccer’s governing body, has said that at least 1 percent of the Cup’s 3 million tickets would be available to disabled fans. Its media office did not respond to a request for an updated number.
FIFA and local laws mandate that stadiums be wheelchair-accessible. But in Brazil, as in many developing countries, disabled fans will face accessibility challenges at hotels, restaurants and other facilities.
Disabled fans’ concerns were magnified last week after Rio de Janeiro’s municipal tourism secretary, Antonio Pedro Figueira de Mello, said in a radio interview that organizers “haven’t given all the necessary attention” to disabled fans.
“Those people don’t tend to come to World Cups that much (anyway),” he added. His office later apologized, saying he misspoke.
HARDER THAN IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN
At an April 30 game in Natal, a host city in Brazil’s northeast, radio reporter Edeilson Felix said that while accessibility at the stadium was “top-notch,” he struggled to get inside because the area remains a construction site.
Felix said a colleague had to maneuver his wheelchair through puddles and over curbs. “It was a lot harder than it should have been,” he said.
Brazil’s plan for dealing with this issue, and many others, seems to be: Throw people at it.
That’s a time-honored strategy in a country where logistics and planning often fall short but where labor is relatively cheap and people are famously friendly and helpful.
It seemed to work Sunday.
Reuters spoke to 11 fans in wheelchairs. They, and many others, expressed satisfaction, even though some areas of Arena Corinthians are still missing chairs or are blocked off by partitions.
As the game ended, 12 city vans waited to take Gabrilli and other wheelchair-bound fans back to the train stop. Similar vans will be running during the tournament.
Gabrilli said Sao Paulo, Brazil’s biggest and wealthiest city, has “by far” the best wheelchair infrastructure — so events in other cities might not run as smoothly.
“We’ll be watching closely for any problems,” she said on Sunday. “But today was a good sign.”
In 1990, Amy Chen (陳怡美) was beginning third grade in Calhoun County, Texas, as the youngest of six and the only one in her family of Taiwanese immigrants to be born in the US. She recalls, “my father gave me a stack of typed manuscript pages and a pen and asked me to find typos, missing punctuation, and extra spaces.” The manuscript was for an English-learning book to be sold in Taiwan. “I was copy editing as a child,” she says. Now a 42-year-old freelance writer in Santa Barbara, California, Amy Chen has only recently realized that her father, Chen Po-jung (陳伯榕), who
When nature calls, Masana Izawa has followed the same routine for more than 50 years: heading out to the woods in Japan, dropping his pants and doing as bears do. “We survive by eating other living things. But you can give faeces back to nature so that organisms in the soil can decompose them,” the 74-year-old said. “This means you are giving life back. What could be a more sublime act?” “Fundo-shi” (“poop-soil master”) Izawa is something of a celebrity in Japan, publishing books, delivering lectures and appearing in a documentary. People flock to his “Poopland” and centuries-old wooden “Fundo-an” (“poop-soil house”) in
For anyone on board the train looking out the window, it must have been a strange sight. The same foreigner stood outside waving at them four different times within ten minutes, three times on the left and once on the right, his face getting redder and sweatier each time. At this unique location, it’s actually possible to beat the train up the mountain on foot, though only with extreme effort. For the average hiker, the Dulishan Trail is still a great place to get some exercise and see the train — at least once — as it makes its way
Jan 13 to Jan 19 Yang Jen-huang (楊仁煌) recalls being slapped by his father when he asked about their Sakizaya heritage, telling him to never mention it otherwise they’ll be killed. “Only then did I start learning about the Karewan Incident,” he tells Mayaw Kilang in “The social culture and ethnic identification of the Sakizaya” (撒奇萊雅族的社會文化與民族認定). “Many of our elders are reluctant to call themselves Sakizaya, and are accustomed to living in Amis (Pangcah) society. Therefore, it’s up to the younger generation to push for official recognition, because there’s still a taboo with the older people.” Although the Sakizaya became Taiwan’s 13th