I can't help but be nervous. I'm in Rio de Janeiro and am walking into one of the city's famed favelas. The communities - which are dotted throughout the city and are brick houses stacked on top of each other like poorly constructed Lego - have garnered an infamous reputation over the years.
The steel works could easily have been for me. Like it was for many who grew up in the town of Port Talbot, the dystopian mesh of pipes, turrets, chimneys and constant smoke was considered a viable career prospect and, for some, a certainty - a safe bet.