When I told my mum I was spending Easter in Ukraine, I swear that thousands of kilometres away from her, I could feel her heart drop.
When my Plan A to go on a student exchange to Chile failed, I immediately jumped on a poorly-planned, impulse Plan B; I felt I needed to go to South America anyway, so I picked the only remaining option and chose a city in the south of Brazil. I got accepted and started to learn Portuguese with probably more enthusiasm than skill. And almost without fail, everybody who heard – my mum being the loudest – asked me:
‘Why are you going there? Isn’t Brazil dangerous?’ more “Is Brazil Dangerous to Travel?”