"Tudo bem, tudo bom."

Or simply "tudo." You hear the uniquely Brazilian phrase for "all is well" from Rio to Amazonia. People seem to mean it when they speak. 

Never have I experienced such selfless kindness from complete strangers than in Rio de Janeiro. Yes, on average every fourth hostel mate seemed to have been robbed at knifepoint, but that wasn't the story of Rio I was being told. 

When I intercepted a man clearly en route to his bus home from a busy work week, he didn't act like he didn't see me. Completely the opposite, actually. I confirmed with him that I was headed in the right direction and he pocketed his earbuds, abandoned his destination and insisted he walk me there. 

With my grandmother's voice in the back of my head telling me not to trust strangers, I refused his generosity. He came anyway and walked me the 24 city blocks to Pedra do Sal. 

"I want to show travelers that my city is a good place. The media makes us seem like bad people," he explained in Portuguese. "I want people to come here and have a good experience so they go home and tell the truth about my city. We are good people with some bad mixed in. But most people in my city are friendly and kind. I want you to experience that."

Twenty blocks later, just as he had promised, we heard Samba bumping from behind the fence and overhead lights bathed the scene in yellow. 

"Pedra do Sal," he said, walking away, barely giving me time to spit out a poorly pronounced, "obrigada."