Clem's Corner: Right in the Heart of Darkness

Originally posted on Street League, April 24, 2013.

Brazilians have been steadily infiltrating skateboarding for about two decades. Maybe there's someone I'm forgetting that came along prior, but I recall Bob Burnquist showing up on the US skate radar on Anti Hero in the early '90s, just blowing minds. We saw footage of him riding these skate parks that looked like they were falling apart, and that was 20 years ago. I remember thinking, "No wonder those dudes are so good when they come to the States. They're used to skating parks that really suck." I can't count how many great skaters have come from Brazil since, whether skatepark standouts like Carlos de Andrade or street legends like Rodrigo TX.

Getting off the plane in Foz do Iguaçu for Street League at X Games, after three different flights and 16 hours of travel, I went directly to the contest site, where I toured the most perfect street course ever.

The heights of the ledges were on point. The Big Three was only slightly big. The handrails and Hubba coming off the Big Three were actually low compared to other Street League courses I've seen in the past. There were even opposing quarter-pipes with hips to contribute to the flow. Of course it was all constructed primarily of perfectly smooth cement. Do I need to keep going?

Over on the other side of Foz, things were a little different. About 30 minutes away was our lodging for the week, the Recanto Park Hotel. It was more like a resort, with a guarded gate and super-fancy pool. I was a privileged guest. That's always a good feeling and I made sure to utilize the facility's grandeur to laze when I could.

However, things were very different outside the gates. Within walking distance, tucked away behind a glaring row of neon-lit brothels that were not very well disguised as motels, sat Foz do Iguaçu's public skatepark. It was made out of concrete, but I think a bomb went off there at some point, because every bank, quarter-pipe, and ledge was riddled with holes and cracks. The transitions were lumpy and bumpy, and the coping was poorly set. The pyramid was a joke. The one wood ledge was clearly a tetanus hazard. We skated it anyway.

Despite the condition of the spot, there was something special about the place—it was alive. Kids were ripping and having fun, all of them riding the most busted skateboards ever. We were all shaking hands and cheering each other on, but you know damn well my dumb-ass American self couldn't speak a lick of Portuguese. Although I didn't get to communicate directly with the locals, I got to share a session with them on their turf anyway. That's one of the many beautiful things about skating, the universal language of skateboarding, and it's thriving in Foz do Iguaçu, Brazil.