In Favela Calabar, 10 people live in a two-room house -- one room heaped with blankets and sheets, the other mired under pots and pans. A tattered curtain separates the two.

In an upscale neighborhood, three people live in a two-story mansion surrounded by a gate. The grounds contain a swimming pool, a nearly full-sized soccer field and a tennis court.

Brazil is a land of disparities. Where you live, how you learn and what happens when you get sick all depend on your income. The wealthiest 20 percent have 65 percent of the income; the poorest 20 percent have 2.6 percent.

"You have people who can afford to take helicopters to work, and there's just people who walk to work for miles because they can't afford bus fare. Unfortunately, they're the majority," said Sabrina Gledhill, president of Ibeji, an organization that helps young offenders.

Many of Brazil's poor live in favelas , or shantytowns. Calabar is a well-organized favela , with a community association. Houses are built against hills, one atop the other, often on dirt mounds. Houses often collapse in heavy rains.

"Many people say this is a bad neighborhood, but here, we have lots of peace," said Paulo Ries, 20, who lives there.

While 78 percent of Brazilians live in cities and towns, according to UNICEF, most rural residents are poor.

In Retirolandia, children make the equivalent of $2.12 to $2.80 a week harvesting sisal plants, which are used to make rope and rugs.

They wake at 5 a.m. and ride their bikes 40 minutes to work.

"I would rather not work, but I am forced to work by necessity. If we don't work, we don't have anything to eat," said Aziane Santos Santiago, 11, who has worked in the fields for a year.

Children are often poked by the dangerous sisal and cut by the machinery. Some have lost limbs.

After work, children return to fly-invested living quarters similar to the favelas, attending school in the afternoon.

On the other hand, in wealthy areas, homes have elegant furniture, fine paintings and state-of-the-art electronics. Children attend private school.

"I use (my free time) to educate (myself), to walk, to surf, to think, to do poems, . . . music, a little bit of guitar, and I like to read a lot, too," said Tiago Magalhaes, 16, who attends Colegio Diplomata, a private school.

Medical disparities

In a run-down part of Salvador is a house for kids with cancer. An open doorway leads into the house, where wires and ceiling tiles hang.

On the outskirts of the city, a new building, also for juvenile cancer patients, sits behind a hospital. It is five stories tall with 52 apartments.

Only 20 percent of Brazilians have access to health care. The rest get substandard treatment, if they get treatment at all.

While 17-year-old Daniel Strand's family can afford private care, he's visited state hospitals.

"There's no hygiene, and there are not many people (to treat patients). There are big lines. You have to arrive at the hospital at 3 a.m. to be attended at 5 p.m., and if that day you can't be attended, that's the worst," Daniel said.

Medical care is available in Favela Calabar, but it is meager. "We go to a post. They have nurses there. They give out the medicine, but it doesn't work. If you have an emergency, you don't get the assistance that you need," said Jucelia Barbosa, 18, who has a sickly toddler.

Likewise, children living in rural areas have little or no medical help.

"The government put up health centers and the hospitals, but often the centers are closed," said Jaco dos Santiago, 15, of Retrolandia. "There isn't a hospital here. It's in the city, but it's very far and we don't have a car. We had to have a center pass to go there. Often doctors don't have any medicines."

Education disparities

With a gate and security guard blocking the way, the entrance to a Salvador public school resembles a prison. Each classroom is crammed with desks and chairs and students, who often are of various ages and grades.

At Colegio Diplomata, flags fly in front of a courtyard filled with trees and flower beds. Facilities include a theater, gym, three computer labs, a basketball stadium and spacious classrooms.

According to Evaldo Tinoco, the secretary of education in Bahia state, public school is free and offers lunches to students ages 7 to 14. That may be an inducement for younger students, but not for all. Since 1994, the number of Bahian students in grades 1 through 8 increased by almost a million, but then fell half a million for teen-agers.

"That is a big problem. They aren't getting to learn all that they have to learn about," Tinoco said.

Students at public schools go to school for only three hours a day. During the other time, many work.

Private school students can attend all day for increased tuition. Students at Colegio Diplomata can participate in theater and music presentations, student government and sports.

"This school is for the high class of the social classes. It's very expensive. In the public school, you are there for an obligation; you are not there because you want (to be). . . . This is different," said Tiago, who has gone to three private schools.

But most children interviewed realize the value of education. "In school, you can win, be able to compete with other people," said Jefferson dos Santos Friere, 18, whose family was relocated outside Salvador. "For us who live far away (from) the good neighborhoods, every day is a victory."

ASSISTANT EDITORS: Emily Jacobi, 18; Laurann Brown, 16; Brian Reissaus, 14; Emma Hulse, 14; and Clay Smith, 14.