Nearly lost amid the stories of startup heroes and plucky entrepreneurs is the plight of Brazil’s poor. While Sao Paulo is the cosmopolitan hub of industry and commerce, it most starkly embodies the work that must still be done to create financial opportunities for all. In a city of more than 21 million, the overwhelming majority are poor. In 2003, 21.5 percent of Brazil’s approximately 190 million citizens lived below the official poverty line according to Rural Poverty Portal.

While an economic miracle is happening in Brazil, over those without proper education are in danger of missing the boat. One of the keys to ensuring Brazil’s continued success as an economic and, soon, technological powerhouse, is through the education of its young people. Colleges schools such as USP (Universidade de São Paulo) and Unicamp (Universidade de Campinas) are where the country’s best computer scientists, engineers and doctors are trained and their education is free. However, the condition of public education at the primary level is abysmal, according to nearly every person with whom I spoke during five weeks of interviews.

On the outskirts of Sao Paulo is Project Arasstão, a community organization and service center I visited last week. For over 40 years, Arasstão, (whose name refers to a type of net fishing,–see their logo, ) has been serving families and young people in the nearby favela with job training programs, education for expectant mothers and digital inclusion courses for teenagers.

Unfortunately, no classes were being held during my visit, so I didn’t get to see the kids in action. I did, however, get to speak with Tony Marlon, one of the program directors and himself an alumnus of Project Arrastão’s digital inclusion initiatives.

At Vila Maré, the project’s headquarters, students can learn Web design, graphic design with Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator, blogging and documentary skills. In addition to digital media training, the center also offers cooking classes, and courses in clothing design and how to make accessories such as handbags. All vocational instruction is conducted with the aim of helping kids find jobs once they have finished school.

The trip to Campo Limpo was like visiting a world removed from what I have come to expect of Sao Paulo. I was lucky to have Rosilene, an area resident and organizer at Arasstão, to take me around, bceause the people I met were very friendly and most were happy to be photographed. If I wound up  The favelas of Sao Paulo remind me a great deal of barrios I visited in Medellin in July. The houses are jammed together and built by hand, almost always by the people who live in them. Narrow streets wend here and there up steep, steep hills and, everywhere are children playing and dogs rummage through scraps.

The idea of a slum I came to Brazil with was quickly dispelled. One of the first things I saw in the favela was a beautiful tiled staircase adorned in a typical style of  Brazil’s Northeast. As we walked through the narrow lanes, many people had turned their front rooms into storefronts, and it seemed that wherever there was a patch of shade, a joyful conversation was taking place.  There was a strong sense of community and belonging that made me feel as though I was also welcome here. Needless to say, it was not the face of poverty I expected.

At the same time, however, there seemed to be no presence of a city or local government and idle young men were all over, likely without jobs. The commute to Campo Limpo was 45 minutes taxi ride from Vila Madelena, and Tony, who lived near me in Vila Mariana, said his commute to work is 90 minutes in the morning and 2 hours in the evening. Those with jobs in the city likely face similar, punishing commutes and must contend with the distance on a daily basis.

Helping children of Campo Limpo leave a life of poverty behind is the aim of Project Arrastao. I wish them all the luck in the world.