OR POWER? MURDER IN THE PRESS ROOM
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News spreaders rarely are also newsmakers and this is even truer for thosejournalists who work inside pressrooms, involved with titles and what to present on the front page of tomorrow's paper. It was then with a mix of horror and fascination that Brazilians learned that the director of 0 Estado de S. Paulo—the most traditional of the three most important newspapers in Brazil—had killed in cold blood his ex-girlfriend, who was also ajournalist. She was 31 years younger than him and a former protegee of the confessed murderer. While the crime was quite tame and ordinary for the police pages in Brazil, it also contained so many ingredients that kept it in the news for weeks. Among the issues it raised was that of men using their position of power to gain sexual favors and women using their charm to escalate professionally. But there was much more than that. How should the media cover a case involving one °fits honchos? Why psychotic and dictatorial personalities are allowed to occupy high positions in the pressrooms? Should criminals be kept in special cells far from the populace just because they have a college degree? And, finally, aren't Brazil's laws too lenient with criminals? Some Brazilians were clamoring for life sentence or even death penalty for the murderer. But there's none of this in Brazil. In theory, the worst criminal can get 30 years of jail. In practice, the assassin journalist won't get more than a few years behind bars if that much.
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10
Cover A murder that shook the media Cover by Sonia Tryhane
Contents 06
TV The buttocks have it
08
Economy Working foreigners
11
Music The censorship is back
18
Politics ltamar, the weird ex-president
21
Opinion Time to end visa requirements
21
Impressions A boat adventure
25
Literature Women writers uniting
27
Sh rt Story "A Velha Joana" by Hello Polvora
34
Travel Flying over Rio
3/
Behavior English is our language
39
Adventure Deep inside the jungle
42
Life A night with Chopin
44
Music Marisa Monte? She's just starting
52
Lit rature Cruz e Souza, black and tortured poet
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06 Rapidinhas
BRAZZIL (ISSN 1091-868X) is published monthly by Brazzil 2039 N. Ave. 52, Los Angeles, CA, 90042-1024.Periodicals Postage rate paid at Los Angeles, CA. Single copy sold for $2. One year subscription for 12 issues is $3 (three dollars) in the U.S., $15 in Canada and Mexico, and $18 in all other countries. No back issues sold. Allow 5 to 7 weeks to receive your first issue. You may quote from or reprint any of the contents with proper copyright credit. Editorial submissions are welcome. Include a SASE (self addressed and stamped envelope) if you want your material mailed back. Brazzil assumes no responsibility for any claims made by its advertisers. The Library of Congress ISSN: 1524-4997 POST MASTER : Send address changes to BRAllIL P.O. Box 50536 - Los Angeles, CA - 90050-0536
16 letters
1111WW. BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
49 Cultural Pulse 51 Classifieds 52 That's Brazilian
.COM 5
TV We love that Shape For some time it seemed as if the female buttocks, that longtime Brazilian male preference, were losing their prestige in Brazil. Globalization and Yankee cultural neocolonialism made a dent in that tradition and some people believed that, influenced by lascivious Americans, boobies had become the new national sexual fetish. It was just a fad and quite an ephemeral one. As weekly newsmagazine Veja—the most read and most respected Brazilian mainstream publication, which often poses as the nation's conscience—has shown in (mind you) two consecutive issues in August buns are still kings. On its August 23 issue, the national magazine of record in an article entitled -Sabado Popozudo" (Big buttock Saturday) illustrated with five pictures of women in different phases ofundress, revealed not without a hint ofdisgust that "we've never seen so many derrieres and braless boobs." According to Veja, TV stations have been trying to get some extra ratings on Saturday nights—traditionally a slow period for TV networks—saturating the airwaves with overcharged fannies. Every commercial network presents its own concoction of bare big buns and/or naked breasts. At 10 PM, Globo, the almost monopolistic TV network, which prides itselfon what it calls "the Globo standard of quality", starts the lurid festival in Zorra Total (Total Chaos). This is a reincarnation of Escolinha do Professor Raimundo (Professor Raimundo's Little School), a not-so-funny decades old show. The buttock highlight happens when one of the students, Dona Rosinha, a bikini-clad young blonde beauty steps up to the blackboard to clean it. She drives her fellow students and the home audience into a delirium gyrating her powerful buttocks while cleaning the board. At 10:15 PM it is time for A Praea E Nossa at SBT (Sistema Brasileiro de Televisdo—Brazilian System of Television). The show, which consists of a man sitting on a park bench while several comical characters pass by and stop for a little chat with him, has been on the air for about 40 years. While the basic formula hasn't changed and some characters are interpreted by the same people who created them decades ago, there are today some appealing additions: female models with big butts. In Escolinha do Barulho (Little School of Disorder), a shameless downgraded carbon copy of Globo's Zorra Total, at 10:45 PM, it's time for Fiti de Assis to show how generous nature was with her derriere. Fifi comes to school in a skimpy bikini. The show is presented by Record, a TV network owned by Igreja Universal, an evangelical church. ' Low-rated and low-class Gazeta TV uses one ofits star hosts, Sergio Mal landro, to show the well-endowed girls. Mallandro has introduced a mechanical bull in his program. To tame the beast, girls with the most generous fannies mount them, while the cameras zoom in on their heinies and their genitalia. Veja cites Alexandre Gama, president of ad agency Neogama, saying that these shows in which butts are the main dish are not just for the guys anymore. "Nowadays, women are also interested in these attractions, even if it is just to badmouth the girls who show their attributes on TV." The same Veja had revealed the week before that popozuda (big-buttock woman) has become not only a fashionable word but also one that's bringing money to those who know how to use it. The term popozuda is not new. Valmir Roque dos Santos, the Rio's rapper who is credited with bringing back the word, says that he used to hear comedian Renato Aragao refer to women with ample derrières as pop ozudas in his long-gone show Os Trapalhoes (The Waal Stooges). Escolinha The term has gained even broader 2(147•1 Teta): de Banda& Dona lansinha acceptance when TV hostess and dotes de apagos a om sauces', singer Xuxa started to use it in her lausa the Frti de AVti% Escolinfra children's shows. She has also aJ4 ;restos do Professor ern eviditmcia adopted Popozuda do Planeta Raimondo (Planet's Big Butt Woman), a song made especially for her, as one of her themes in the program Planeta da Xuxa (Xuxa 'S Planet). There are today at least a dozen bands in Brazil singing tunes that mention popozuda or popozcio (big butt) in their title. The rock group De MEM Mdking at dalaiticcara: a macs 'mobs hide. na Red,: Rosideirareste. • Falla, for example, boasts of having Todu mesmo. ate o mato son' yea sold more copies of their Pop uzuda Rock'n'Roll than all of their previous records put together. Their song was Televisio made to serve as theme for Feiticeira, .1.1: fl),kc.7.1 marn,inw a TV beauty better known for her vota64.11J2 a.4 .1,, 1V tdc n stT,i luminous and tempting popozdo.
SS z bado popo udo Nunca
vit.! tanto traseiro e seto tie fora
,a141
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nda
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
sionamaminaaai • aja mama
• Bate na palma da mao Clap your hands Bate na palma da mao Clap your hands Bate na palma da mao Cl your hands Mos mexendo o popoao Thtti'ovingthebigbutt It a u, b g utt g S tern poposil Mexe demais ove the most you can S6 tern popozuda, hein ,All we have is big-butt girls, aha Urn pulinho pro tras. 'A little jump back SO tern popoinda, hein All we have is big-butt Mexe um pouquinho Move just a little SO tern popozuda, hein il we have is big-bu Mos de mansinho Uit yeiy softly
Popozuda Rock'n'aoll De Falla Quintet 4-4 al, popozuda i descendo ate o chao Requebrando na. b tida do Miami pam oatorça tro de Jeday vem, popozuda Vai, va, tvai ,Wai, popo 4 fRequebre regal ai, popo da Libera eral
Areek!it' Go, big-butt girl Getting down to the iloor waddling under1the,1:04 ofMiami's funk sound
Socome big-butt Go, go, go Go, big-butt girl Waddle cool Go, big-butt girl Let loose
popozuda pra ci, ig-butt girl over here E popozuda pra Ii , it's big-butt girl over there E popozuda de Ipanema It's big-butt girl from Ipanema Popozuda do IrajA < hig-buttgkl from Iraja maimaaamaimaliamaaamaii
ea
as •
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se ammo ai a
Plink parties, Hollywood mo ies, Internet games and the fcnwl as (shantytowns), they are all fertile ground for the creation ofthenetv Say the Word terms that don't cease to enter the Portuguese language in Brazil, particularly in Rio. It's virtually impossible to maintain yourself current since the new words most of the time don't resist more than a season. It is also common to ee twenty, thirty-year-old slang making a.comeback as if it were brandnew, That's what just happened, for example, w ith ela-saco(4bora)and de patrao (someone with prestige). Rio's daily 0 Dia has recently compiledn Ii ofsiang being used b Carioca (from Rio) teens: Babou (literally, it drooled)—it was postponed Bicho rvim (bad beast)—undesirable person Caraca—wow Choque de monstro (monster's shock)--ve Crocodilo (crocodile)—false individual Dar linha (to give line)—to go away Explanar (to explain)—to gossip Fala seri° (talk seriously)—don't bother Fonnou (it formed)—that's it, let's Fui went)—I'm going Geral foi (general went)—everyone was there Id e (it already is)—all's well Melzinho (little honey)—pretty girl No talento (with talent)—perfect Pescocudo (big-neck guy)--fighter Que trevas (such darkness)—the pits Ralar peito (to grate chest)—to go away TA bombando (it's pumping)—it's cool TA de bobs—to be aimless Ta de patrace (to act as boss)—to have prestige TA pegando (it's picking)—to be dating TA ligado (are you connected?)—dig it? To de highlander—I'm so so Vai ralar (it's going to grate)—he is going to date Vazar (to leak)—to go away Vou pra guerra (I'm going to war)—I'm going to flirt
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
7
Brazil has never seen so many foreign workers. While the amount of this overseas help is only a fraction of what the United States imports, it is still rather With an Accent important for Brazil since most of these jobs are technical and managerial positions and there aren't many of such positions around. The number of foreigners who were given authorization to work in Brazil since 1997 has increased by 56 percent, according to the Labor and Employment Ministry. While there were 24,503 foreigners working legally in Brazil in 1997 (20 percent of them were from the US), today there are 38,310 of them. By comparison, there are 15.7 million immigrant workers in the US, the highest level in seven decades and they represent 12 percent of the American workforce. And there is pressure from software companies, farmers and hotels in order that Congress would enact legislation to admit hundreds ofthousands of additional foreign workers every year. About 800,000 immigrants enter the US legally each year; another 300,000 do it illegally. The daily average of work permits given to foreigners has increased from 34 in 1999 to 63 this year. If the same rhythm of the first semester is maintained throughout the year, Brazil will end 2000 with 23,000 new foreign workers. The work authorizations have a two-year validity and can be renewed for a second two-year period. As in the US, the immigrant or his employer has to prove that there is no Brazilian who would be able to do the job. For being partners at the Mercosul, people from Argentina, Paraguay, and Uruguay have an advantage: they can work up to 90 days with a temporary permit. Late August, in an effort to make it harder for a foreigner to get a permit, Brazilian House of Representative's Foreign Relations Committee passed a bill that would allow foreign workers only from countries that would also admit Brazilian to work there. The measure based on the reciprocity principle would require studies by the government. To become law the bill still has to be approved by the full senate and President Fernando Henrique Cardoso. Curiously, 27 percent of all the work authorizations are being given to experts in underwater exploration. From the 1389 foreign workers who entered Brazil form January to March, 364 were engineers, 256 were managers and 199 were chemist and physicists. The government doesn't seem worried with this growth of foreign workers. In an interview with Brasilia's daily Carrel° Braziliense, Sadi Ribeiro, Labor Ministry's coordinator for immigration, declared: "The cost of a foreign worker is very high. Besides a good salary you need to give them housing, transportation and school for their children."
Work
A Foreigner's Viewpoint Daily Jornal do Brasil published ten essays written by foreign correspondents, writers, and scientists all talking about their Brazilian experience. Here's what Christian Dutilleux correspondent for the French news aper Liberatio n had to say: "I arrived in Brazil in 1985, with a group of young Europeans. We came over here not running away from wars and P poverty like our predecessors. I wanted to understand and study new cultures and may be start a new life here I hoped t fmd anew culture and a political revolution celebrating the end of a long dictatorship, like it happened in Spain o after Frac death. The turmoil of Collor's Cruzado Plan took me by surprise. I thought: how lucky I am, I arrived just in time in the land of future! I felt euphoric! But many Brazilian friends did not share my feelings. They dreamed of traveling to Miami, wished for a scholarship in Canada, wanted to get a job in Milan. Our wishes went in the opposite direction. On many occasions new friends would ask: "How did you land in Brazil?" At first, not quite understanding, I w ouldanswer: "By plane of course!" After a while I managed to feel what they meant when I discovered strange expressions like "The First World." "Quite a lot of Brazilians worship this concept. It divides the planet in two opposites. One where all is perfect, people are well bred, elegant, human rights are preserved, politicians are honest, companies are highly technical and all conversation is intelligent. The other is a poor and dim Carnaval parade displaying misery, violence, corruption and bad taste. Those who admire the first one, place the First World in the northern hemisphere. It's a large conglomerate of countries starting in western Europe and ending with Japan, including Belgium, my homeland. Belgium is used here as a parameter of prosperity when it is said that Brazil is a "Belindia", a rich Belgium in the middle of an extremely poor India. "These concepts are extremely harmful to Brazilians' state of mind, mainly because it obscures and weakens their vision of the world. The notion of First World wipes out history and geography as it stands, puts Japan and Portugal, Basques and Eskimos on the same level, is unable to notice the rich Arabs, the needy Americans, the Irish terrorism and France's strikes. Utopian Belindia transforms Belgium into a feud of wealthy maharajas only because Belgian workers used to be the best paid in the whole world. "Worse yet, these notions always place Brazil behind and below other countries, like a land condemned eternally to being outside this world. Unfortunately many Brazilians accept that thought. That is why I ask myself quite perplexed: why a native of the First World, a Belgian, would "land in Brazil?" "Being here could only be a consequence of some inner problem, maybe an intimate disturbance. That was the general thought. Frequently they would try several explanations. It must be the sexual appeal of the mulatto woman, some fancied.
8
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
All avoided questions concerning their belief in the existence of the First World that continued to be a near-paradise, anc17\ I who fled from earthly Eden must be some kind of oddball, maybe some degenerate...a chromatic degenerate. "When, at any social meeting. I managed to avoid the subject of sex and mulatto, I inevitably fell into another trap: praise Brazil! Instantly answers showered. "Terrible. Insufferable." I was condemned to tiresome speeches on the country's ills. They even took turns attempting to "teach" me how awful this country is and I should really be cautious they insisted. That's how I found out that Brazilians were merciless with their own country. "But I had to deal with the other side of the coin. Months and years gone (I do not remember how many) I found out another aspect of Brazilian patriotism. Working as correspondent, at times I started small talk by mentioning some kind of misfortune encountered while doing my job. Instantly I was flooded with harsh words. All against me. Who was I to criticize Brazil in such a manner? And in Belgium nothing unlawful happens? Pedophiles? Troublemakers? And people bathe daily? And again tiresome speeches defending the beloved homeland, which, if I understood well, is equal to the best in-the-world despite not-being-part-of-the-First-World. "The relationship of love and hate with their country, the make believe of a better world on the outside and the permanent questioning of their national identity, are profound aspects of the Brazilian soul. Fifteen years gone, I still try to understand this country. Day after day, it fascinates me and angers me, I feel accepted and at the same time rejected; these feelings penetrate the blood in my veins permanently. I believe that somehow I became culturally... "mulatto", and I still don't know why "I landed in Brazil".
Not since the military regime that ruled Brazil from 1964 to 1985 had a song been censored and taken off the air by the Justice Department. Not even when Gabriel o Pensador released the song "Estou Feliz, Matei o Presidente" (I'm Happy, I've Killed the President) in 1992 was there such an action. But now the rap group Faccao Central earned the distinction of having their song and respective video clip banned from airtime. MTV Brazil showed the clip "Isso Aqui E uma Guerra" (What we Have Here Is War) about half a dozen times before being forced to take it off Faccao Central is not a big name on the rap scene. In ten years, they have recorded only three CDs with songs that always tell the same story: violence in the slums and streets of Brazil. That's a subject they know very well. The band's members Eduardo, 24, Dtun-Dum, 30 and Erick, 24—are all from Grajau, a poor violent neighborhood in the southeastern zone of Sao Paulo. The ban started when some MTV viewers called Rio's daily newspaper 0 Globo to complain aboutthe level ofviolenee shown in the clip directed by Dino Dragone. Dragone also has made videos for Los Hermanos and Charles Brown, Jr. Some viewers seem to have been affected by realistic scenes in the "Isso Aqui E uma Guerra" clip, which include depictions of a bank robbery and the murder of two people. Carlos Cardoso, the Sao Paulo prosecutor who took the case, says he doesn't feel comfortable about the task. "This is a delicate case," he said. "We don't have any knowledge of a music or video clip being forbidden for this reason. I confess that I felt troubled, afraid that my actions would be interpreted as censorship. But the clip is too violent, different from anything I have seen." To which Fabio Macari, the band's producer, retorts: "There are thousands of films, clips, video games and many other products that display excessive violence, but when a poor rap group from the suburbs exposes the problem, it gets punished with censorship, prohibition. I'd like to see them prohibit million dollar productions." Eduardo, the lyrics' author, concurs: "I have nothing to eat, no electricity, nothing worthwhile going on. I'm abandoned, but I've never started a life of crime. Am I going to start being a criminal now, do some stupidity only because I saw a clip from this video?" isto aqui é uma guerra What we have here is a war Isso aqui é uma guerra Onde so sobrevive quern atira Quem enquadra mansao, quem trafica Infelizmente o livro nao resolve 0 Brasil sO me respeita corn um revOlver. ai, 0 juiz ajoelha, o executivo chora Para nao sentir o calibre da pistola. Eu quero roupa, comida, alguem tern que sangrar
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
What we have here is a war In which only those who shoot will survive He who robs mansions, he who deals drugs Unfortunately the law is useless Brazil only respects me with a gun, then The judge kneels, the executive cries So he won't feel the pistol's caliber I want clothes, food, someone has to bleed
9
Vou enquadrar uma burguesa e atirar pra matar Vou fumar os seus bens E ficar bem louco Seqtiestrar algudm caixa eletremico A minha quinta-serie so adianta Se eu tiver urn refem corn um cano na garganta. Ai no tern gambe pra negociar
I'm gonna aim at a bourgeoisie and shoot to kill I'm gonna smoke his goods And get very high Kidnap someone at the automatic teller My 5th grade is only good If I get a hostage with a gun at his throat Then there is no cop to make a deal
(Voz de policial: Liberta a vitinaa, vamos conversar!")
(Policeman voice: "Free the victim, let's talk!")
Vai se ferrar, é bora de me vingar fome virou Odio e algudm tern que chorar Ndo queria a cela nem o seu dinheiro Nem boilorturado no cativeiro No queria o futuro corn conforto Mas 357 é o que o Brasil me dá Sem emprego quando o prego de Audi passar Aperte o "enter", cuzdo, me digita... e faz a conta, agiliza, nao grita No tern Deus nem milagre Esquece o crucifixo E so uma vadia chorando pelo marido Warc,firi Central E o cofre versus a escola sem professor Se for pra ser mendigo, doutor Eu prefiro uma Glock corn silenciador Corner seu lixo no 6 comigo, moro! Desce do carro sena° ta. morto Essa 6 a lei daqui, a lei do demonio ISSO AQUI E UMA GUERRA!
You gonna have it, it's time for my revenge Hunger becomes rage and someone will have to Cry I didn't want the cell or your money Nor an ox tortured in captivity I didn't want the future with comfort But a .357 Magnum is what Brazil gives me Unemployed while the idiot in the Audi passes by Press "enter", asshole, type it,. and calculate, make it fast, don't scream There's neither God nor miracle, Forget the crucifix W It's only a whore crying for her husband It's the safe versus the school without a teach If I have to be a beggar, doctor I'd rather have a Glock with a silencer To eat your trash is not my thing, dig it? Step out of the car or you are dead This is the law here, the devil's law WHAT WE HAVE HERE IS.A WAR!
Nao chora vadia que eu nao tenho do Na forca, na moral, nao existe B.O. Aqui é outro brasileiro transformado em monstro -Semi-analfabeto armado e perigoso Querendo sua corrente de ouro Atacando o seu pulso atacando o seu bolso Pronto pra atirar e pronto pra matar Vai se foder! Descarrega essa PT Mata o fliho do boy como o Brasil quer ver Esfrega na cara sua panela vazia Exige o seu direito corn o sangue da vadia E a lei da natureza, quem tern fome mata Na selva é o animal, na ma 6 o empresario inconseqiiente `tamo doente, o Brasil estimula a atirar no gerente. Aqui no é novela Nan tern amor na tela A cena existe é solidao na cela. Nem policia pega boi Deita escrivdo, abre a cela carcereiro, liberta o
Don't cry, bitch, because I've no pity In force, in moral, iiithere is no police report Here we have an,er Brazilian transformed into a Semi-illiterate, a ed and dangerous Wanting your golden chair Attacking your pulse, attacking your pocket Ready to shoot and ready to kill He's gonna get fucked! Unload this rod Kill the boy's son as Brazil wants to see Rub in his face your empty pan Demand your right with the whore's blood That's nature's law, whoever is hungry kills In the jungle is the animal, in the street is the inconsequent businessman We're sick, Brazil induces to shoot the manager This is no soap opera There's no love on the screen The scene exists, it's loneliness in the cell Not even the police can handle this Lie down, clerk; open the cell, warden; free the robber...
Seu oitao é urna piada, garnbe covarde Cala a boca e aplaude o resgate Cala a bcoca e aplaude o resgate, re, re! Vai e te protege, sua policia no chao, oitdo na cabeca no DP sem defesa Reza pro ladrao resolver ter pena, que pena! Seu henai pede socorro nessa cena. uer seu filho indo pra escola e no voltando morto Entdo mete a inao no cofre e ajuda nosso povo Proteja a sua muffler, agonizando ate morrer porque alguem precisa corner ISSO AQUI E UMA GUERRA!
Your big 8 is a joke, coward cop Shut your mouth and applaud the ransom Shut your mouth and applaud the ransom, ha, ha! Go and protect yourself, your police on the floor, big 8 in the head of the defenseless chief Pray for the robber to decide to have pity, what a pity! You hero begs for help in this scene. He wants his son to go to school and not return dead So get your hands on the safe and help our people Protect your wife, agonizing until death because someone needs to eat WHAT WE HAVE HERE IS A WAR!
10
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
Death in the Press Room At times during the past few weeks the Brazilian media didn't know how to deal with a murder that lodged a bullet inside the heart of the press. The killing of a journalist by a journalist left the media scrambling for answers and raising new questions. ALESSANDRA DALEVI
as it a crime of passion or not? With two shots a 63-year-old man killed his 32-year-old exgirlfriend. This kind of news normally gets little or no notice on the police page and would not appear on the front page of the paper— where it did appear—or on any cover of the country's main news magazines—as actually happened. Mind you, this wasn't your typical love story turned to murder episode. And Brazilians, for weeks, have been mesmerized by the development and aftershocks of a crime that neither the newspapers nor the media knew how to cover. The reason both the murderer and the murdered were fellow journalists. Moreover, the assassin was the director of 0 Estado de S. Paulo, one of the three most prestigious and traditional dailies in the country. It was natural that the case's development would be followed closely from all qu liters. In the days following the tragedy the media would try to answer many questions: How did and should the press treat one of their own, a man who was close to many media owners? How will a man with friends in high places be treated by the Justice and the pike? How can an honorable citizen one day become a bloodthirsty avenger the next? How is it possible that chiefs in pressrooms are given dictatorial powers and exercise them as mean, bold-blooded despots? Here's the story: Antonio Marcos Pimenta Neves, on Sunday, August 20, killed Sandra Fiorentino Gomide. The setting around 2:30 was a stud farm, in the little town of Ibiima, 44 miles from downtown Sao Paulo where both kept their horses and where they shared many herse-riding outings during happier times. The couple had a troubled four-year relationship. Several times they ended their involvement only to restart it soon after. They first met in 1995 at Gazeta Mercantil, a daily specializing in business, wh ere. Sandra was a reporter and Pimenta, the director. When Pimenta left Gazeta in October 1997, Sandra continued working at the newspaper for another three months. For six months she locked for another job and ended up accepting the invitation of her boyfriend to work as a special reporter at 0 Estado. In October 1999 she was promoted to editor ofthe daily's business section despite her inexperience. The roman :•,e came to an end again in late May. Apparently, after accessing Sandra's e-mail, Pimenta learned she was corresponding with Jaime Mantilla, co-owner of Hoy, one ofthe main papers in Ecuador, triggering the break up. From then on Pimenta plotted to destroy his ex-lover. "You don't know what I'm capable of," he told Sandra, during a discussion in the newsroom. He not only fired her from 0 Estado, but also called everyone he knew to make certain they would not hire her. She finally got a place at Patagon, an Internet financial portal, three weeks before her murder. For that, Carlos Franco, a reporter of 0 Estado who had helped her land the job, was fired. He was rehired, though, after Pimenta ost his job. On August 5, with gun in hand, Pimenta threatened to kill Sandra after invading her apartment, pushing her around and calling her names It's possible Sandra survived that night only because her father phoned during the attack. Pimenta left, but he demanded his ex-girlfriend return everything he had given her, including clothes. "I don't want anything that's mine on you," he wrote in an-email. "I want to eliminate any trace of my presence in your life and of yours in mine." And added as a Mafia boss: "Don't make the mistake ofkeeping these things because you know that I have no limits." Then ended with an insult: "Go have your sexual adventure with the Ecuadorian. This will take you back to your origins as a cheap whore, without scruples or character." Sandra's father personally delivered several bags containing dozens of shoes, clothes and other gifts to Pimenta's house.
Manipulating the News After committing the crime, the powerful Pimenta called friends in the media attempting to prevent the news from being published or at least trying to guarantee that he was presented in a positive light. There was no serious effort BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
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by the media to hide the case, but the initial news about the murderer was quite discreet. From Octavio Frias Filho, owner of Folha de S 'do Paulo, the daily with the largest circulation in Brazil, Pimenta was promised that no word would be said about the crime in the several media outlets of the Frias family. Folha ended up reporting the news—without pictures and not on the front page—when other news services started to reveal details of the case. At the Estado it was decided that the news would be given front page. "Director of 0 Estado is murder suspect," read the discreet front-page headline on August 21, a Monday, usually a bland day for news. Rio's 0 Globo was even more circumspect, treating the subject as any other petty crime: "Journalist shoots and kills ex-girlfriend." Folha de Silo Paulo, the other paper belonging to the trio of the most important Brazilian newspapers skipped the front page and buried the news inside the paper. The call to Frias lasted a little more than two minutes and was "a personal outpouring ofthe heart," as the media executive would later reveal: "All he did was to ask the paper and my father to excuse him because his behavior might have repercussions for the paper where he once worked." Pimenta had called his own newspaper around 3 p.m. and told an editor that he had shot Sandra and explained why: "She was badmouthing the paper." Another day he complained to Ruy Mesquita, one of 0 Estado's owners that the news was too favorable to the victim's family. He also called executive editor Jose Maria Mayrink and told him: "The news is too loaded, Mayrink. It is against me. You are listening too much to her side. We need to review that. That's absurd. Even Boris Casoy (the anchor for TV show Jornal da Record) is against me. The Folha is doing better in this case." A special bank account was created to help pay the legal costs involved in prosecuting Pimenta and is receiving contributions from Sandra's friends and relatives. Ruy Mesquita has contributed to the fund and asked that the amount of his check be kept secret. Pimenta Neves had a brilliant career as a journalist. He worked in top positions for several Brazilian newspapers. In the '60s he worked for the Folhas group in Sao Paulo. After moving to Washington, DC, in 1974, he acted as foreign correspondent for Folha de Silo Paulo, Gazeta Mercantil and 0 Estado de S. Paulo. In 1986, the World Bank hired him as a consultant. He returned to Brasil in 1995.
Turning Against the Victim In order to avoid the more serious charge of qualified murder, Pimenta tried to denigrate the reputation of his victim. Still in the Albert Einstein hospital where he was taken after ingesting 70 tranquilizers and anti-depressants, the journalist made statements to the police in which he accused his ex-girlfriend of being incompetent as a journalist and of betraying him personally and professionally. Pimenta said that Sandra had given him a venereal disease. For a while it seemed as though Pimenta was willing to revive what, until recently, was a common strategy in the courts in cases involving the murder of a woman by a man: "legitimate defense of honor". All ofthis was done after having written what supposedly was a suicide note to his twin daughters, who live with their American mother in Washington, DC: "My defense in a long and painful process would be impossible. I would say nothing that could denigrate the image and memory of Sandra. I only loved two women in my life: her and your mother." (Read the letter in its entirety elsewhere). What was supposed to be secret testimony by the journalist ended being shown on national TV in a clandestine tape acquired by Globo TV. The film showed a man who knew how to give orders, but not to take them. In one example, Pimenta gestures and raises his voice in atone similar to that of an instructor tired of repeatedly explaining the same concepts to a group of inattentive students, 12
while talking to a Justice prosecutor, a lawyer and three police chiefs: —What I'm saying here is that is useless this kind of questioning, because if I don't sit down and write I'll end up saying lots of nonsense. No one has the memory to register these details. I'm an expert on that. The interview was shown on prime time on Globo's Jornal Nacional, the most popular Brazilian news show, seen by 40 million viewers. The whole episode was a mockery of the letter the journalist had written on August 22 to his daughters in which he asked forgiveness for what he did and talked about his decision to commit suicide. In what seemed a sincere act of contrition he paid homage to his victim: "I would never say anything that might denigrate the image and memory of Sandra." Easy for him to say. Harder to fulfill the promise. Now, the whole nation heard him saying: "I killed Sandra because she betrayed me, personally and professionally." He even accused his victim, without any proof, of having given him a venereal disease. He couldn't even name the disease, saying: "I don't know the name of the disease. All I know is that my penis gets irritated." According to Pimenta, Sandra took the initiative in the relationship. She was the one who approached him first, she was the one who kissed him first, as if to prove that from day one she was acting in a calculated manner to climb the ladder of success, as if she manipulated him from the beginning and for years. "In one year," he said in a matter of fact way, "her salary went from $900 to $4700 a month. Maybe I saw more talent in her than was there." Who used the mini-camera to tape the interview in his hospital room? No journalist was allowed at the deposition. Marcelo Millani, the prosecutor present during the testimony, is the main suspect but was quick to deny any impropriety. According to Brazilian law, covertvideotaping is illegal only when the recording is made by a third party not part of the action or conversation being recorded.
A Tough Jury The so-called "crime doloso contra a vida" (felonious crime against life) is always tried by jury in Brazil and that's how Pimenta will be tried. There will be seven jurors chosen among the residents of Ibiima, a small town of 60,000 people and 15,000 ranches, including those of President Fernando Henrique Cardoso and Health Minister Jose Serra. Pimenta has already been tried and condemned by public opinion in the city in which the crime was committed. Nobody seemed to show any sympathy for the assassin in several interviews by the media. There were some people asking for capital punishment or life imprisonment, although neither exists in Brazil. TV personalities also were not hiding their feelings. Popular TV hostess Hebe Camargo sent this message to the murderer in her nationally broadcast show: "You took too few pills. You should have died. Why did you get involved with a woman much younger than you, kill her and then leave a deceitful letter to your daughters? They must be dying of shame because of you, rogue old man." For possessing a college degree, Pimenta has the right to a special cell in prison—although not necessarily an individual one— far from the common and generally poor criminals. This right was introduced by the 1941 penal code, which also assures the same privilege to military personnel, judges and some government authorities, among others. The Brazilian legislation assumes that a person with a college diploma is a lesser criminal than someone without a higher education. Commenting on this peculiarity of the Brazilian law, David Teixeira de Azevedo, apenal law professor at Universidade de Sao Paulo, told weekly newsmagazine Veja: "There is no doubt that we can justify this law when it deals with policemen and judges so they can avoid contact with the criminals they helped put in jail. Except for that, it's just pure privilege." The DHPP (Departamento de Homicidios e Protecao a Pessoa—Department of Homicides ancrPeople Protection) used 18 police cars to transfer the Pimenta from the Clinica Parque BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
Jul ieta, where he was being treated for depression, to prison. In jail, Pimenta shares a 100 sq. ft. cell with Vicente Viscome, a councilman arrested for corruption in a case involving city inspectors, and with Matheus da Costa Meira, a student, who, in 1999, killed three people during a movie at a shopping mall theater. Ironically, as the director for 0 Estado de S. Paulo, Pimenta was instrumental in giving both cases front-page notoriety. V iscome is in charge ofthe three different pills Pimenta takes to control his depression. Most ofthe time the journalist walks in sandals, dressed in white and blue pajamas and a brown cap. Pimenta entered the 77th Police District's police station in downtown sao Paulo amid the yells of 40 other inmates who screamed four letter words, "You coward, woman killer. Ooh, ooh, you are going to die." And they added: "Get the machine gun, Mateus." Mateus, who is called Doctor Death by his prison colleagues used such a weapon when he killed the moviegoers in a shopping mall. For his own security Pimenta is being kept inside the cell at all times even when his colleagues are allowed to go out on the corridor. If Pimenta is condemned for a qualified crime—one in which there are aggravating circumstances—the jail term would vary from 12 to 30 years. Since Pimenta has no criminal history he would benefit from an automatic reduction of one third in his jail term. That would mean he would get a minimum of eight years behind bars. Several loopholes, however, might allow him no jail time besides that served while waiting for trial. Jail terms shorter than nine years can be served in a condition of sem i-liberty. In this case, the inmate only has to sleep in jail, being allowed to work in a regular job and have a regular life during the day. Those sentenced to four years or less can serve their time in freedom. Lawyers Antonio Claudio Mariz de Oliveira and Roberto Podval, who started working for Pimenta in the days following his crime, decided to drop the case alleging that relatives and friends were interfering too much. Soon after, another legal team entered the scene led by former Justice minister Jose Carlos Dias, who was later joined by criminalist Arnaldo Malheiros Filho. In 1988, Dias took the defense of a Sao Paulo case known as the Cuba Street Crime. The defendant, Jose Carlos Dias, was accused of killing his parents on Christmas Eve. Soon after meeting their client for the first time inside the jail the new lawyers talked about their concern for the life oftheir client who, according to them, was in a "profoundly depressive state". They have also promised they will not use insanity as a defense and hinted they will continue trying to move the journalist to a psychiatric institution. According to the Sociedade de Combate A loVencia das Mulheres (Society to Fight Violence Against Women) 450 women were killed in 1999 in Brazil by their partners. Half of the defendants waited—or are still waiting for trial— in freedom. On the victim's side is Marcio Thomaz Bastos, 65, who will assist the prosecution. He served the same role in the trial of singer Lindomar Castilho, who killed his ex-wife in 1981 and got a 12yearjail sentence (see box). He also worked on the prosecution team against the killers of Amazon environmentalist rubber tapper's leader Chico Mendes, who was killed in 1988. Bastos, who graduated from USP (Universidade de Sao Paulo), considered the best institution ofhigher education in the country, presided over the Sao Paulo Bar association as well as the federal lawyer's association. His opinion about the confessed criminal: "Pimenta is a false criminal of passion. He is an autocratic individual who acted premeditatedly and gave the victim no choices. He killed in an act of revenge and jealousy. He was cruel, choosing special bullets, which cause more serious injury than ordinary ones. Justice has to be harsh
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
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with an individua who had as many opportunities in life as he had." It is estimate that Brazil has half a million lawyers, ome who graduated from fictitious choo Is, others who never practiced la . Rare are those who become famous or their work in the courts. A few wh do are those who take high visibility cas soften involving celebrities.
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Not for Love Arnaldo Jabo ,a famous moviemaker—among other movies he made I Love Ys u (1980), with Sonia Braga—before turning into an infamous and cathing newspaper columnist for Rio's daily 0 Globo, compare the story of Pimenta becoming police news to that of a priest who did not believe in God. The journalist's murder has brought ang ish to the newsrooms, says Jabor, and brought several questions o the newsmakers' mind: "He fooled us. We lived with him, we brown-nosed him, we heard his criticism while he was there, the i ostor, scheming his purifying trip to jail! If he killed, can I kill oo?" He recalls th t Pimenta Neves was praised for his ruthlessness and principles d comments that the paranoid are, by and large, good bosses. "T ey see everything, they control everything, they are always right. I hey kill with 'reasons.— And continues: "It was frustrating not t. see the criminal melting in tears; his attempt at suicide was simu ated, he lacked the despair of guilt, he lacked the bleeding wrists, the cries of repentance. His story with Sandra showed that he sid not kill for love; he killed because she didn't follow his order , he killed to punish the insubordination of his subordinate." Jabor also n es that the newspaper director controlled everything: the speci 1 bullets he used, the content of texts the media would publish r arding his crime, and in his testimony to the police he seemed mire like the chiefconducting a meeting at the newspaper than a con essed murderer. For Jabor, this crime shows that Brazil has clean d dirty criminals and Pimenta is the clean kind: "The journalist' gruesome crime is, despite its brutality, a "clean" crime. There's n misery to justify it, no ignorance, no crack. It is a crime that ups ts us, that destabilizes. The dirty crime comforts us—it is only th practice of wretches who reaffirm the logic ofthe white world. Th dirty crimes exclude us—the clean ones include us. The dirty cri es absolve us—the clean ones incriminate us. We have a discreet r lief when facing the horror that only reaches the miserable." An adds: "Pimenta makes us feel bad. We need him to be an off-the all crazy, but he is not.... This is the real Brazilian racism: h who steals $100 million goes to a special cell; he who steals $101 goes to the worst kind of slammer." Writer Luis ernando Verissimo, for many the best columnist at work today i Brazil, avoided touching the Pimenta affaire in his daily column on 0 Globo and 0 Estado de S. Paulo. When he mentioned the episode it was just en passant in the middle of a column on other subjects. "I can't quite understand," he wrote, "why every journalist who has a signed column feels that he is obligated to comment on the Pimenta Neves case. It was a tragedy for two families, I don't think there is much more to tell." Maybe he should 13
have just skipped the subject altogether. His ° 0000000 • • • • • • • • • • • • • comment didn't please many ofhis devoted Two of the E-mails readers mainly the female ones. Pimenta Sent Sandra • Echoing this dissatisfaction in NO. (it • The e-mails found by police in Sandra's reads no ponto), an Internet-based publication (http://www.no.com.br), in an article , computer revealed two more characters in entitled "How Could You, Verissimo?," • this tragedy: the Quito's newspaper owner and Cecilinha. Sandra suspected that CeciBeatriz Rezende, a professor from UFRJ's • linha was Pimenta's lover. In his messages, (Universidade Federal do Rio de Janeiro) : however, the newspaper's director calls her School of Letters, wrote—not without a lot • a childhood friend to whom he appealed in of chagrin—that the author has fallen from • times of depression. his pedestal as the conscience ofthe Brazil- • • July 17, 2000 ian Enlightened Ones. 5:14 PM Rezende agrees that the columnist did • not have to comment on the case. "It's OK, • "I was very saddened to know about your he doesn't have to write about the episode, interview with the personnel department at although it was good that he has done it. But 0 Estado and the things you told them about when the columnist equates the tragedies of • me. both families he seems to forget an impor- • I should have answered and registered tant detail, the difference between life and : the complaints made by Dr. Rui (Rui death: one killed, the other was killed." Writing in Folha de Seto Paulo, novel- • Mesquita, the newspaper owner) against the section you were in command of and against ist Marcelo Coelho was one of the few who • your articles, some of them in writing. I'll do didn't condemn Pimenta's act up front. "I'd • nothing of the kind. like to know who defends journalist • Pimenta Neves," he started his article. "And • Iran a risk bringing you here. You never I'd like to better understand the fury directed • recognized that. By the way, you never rec• ognized anything I did. I was only an object against him. Of course, he killed. Ofcourse he has to be condemned. I don't accept • of use to be discarded when convenient. arguments that Pimenta Neves should get • Your suspicions about my feelings in rea light sentence because it was a crime of: latiort to you were a product of make believe. passion, an impulsive act, etc. But the reac- • tions to the case—and may the women, • You know very well that I love you especially incensed, forgive me—are be- • above every thing and I had no other purpose than to live with you the rest of my life. But coming too hysterical. A letter published • • your job was more important. Everything yesterday in the Folha, calls PimentaNeves was more important than our relationship. a "bloody hypocrite"; another complains about the treatment given by the press to the You are selfish and cruel with the people murder of women, saying that the press is who love you. You'd rather be caring with protecting the criminal." strangers. You talk about my power (if there Coelho comments that the journalist is is any) and how I use it. inspiring an indignation "bigger than the You ignore, however, the power you had one against the killers of children, Indians over me and how you used it to gain advanand landless, all put together." The columtages and to punish me emotionally. But we nist says that the crime generated perplexcan forget everything, start from the beginity in the newsrooms across the country ning, to begin a relationship that is clean and leading the male journalists to ask themhonest, transparent and loving. Come back selves whether they would be capable of home once and for all. doing the same thing. On the other side, 6/8/2000. female journalists, mainly younger ones, l6b35 are likely to identify with the victim and • wonder if they too could be victims. At • You are still keeping many fine wool another level, the fact that the crime was • • • • committed because the journalist was left by the girlfriend makes the case seem an act against the independence of any woman who might feel threatened if she wanted to leave a guy. At the end ofhis article, Coelho says that he changed his mind about the whole episode while writing his piece (he published: it the way he wrote it anyway) and that he has found many reasons for the hysteria against Pimenta. Among them: the inequality between men and women and the "machismo" that continues to permeate Brazilian society. He concludes, however, that to concentrate all the indignation in one case will not help the discussion ofthe issues the murder raised. 14
• 0000000 • • • • • • • ••• • • • • clothes and other things that I demand you return. I don't want anything that's mine on you. I want to eliminate any trace of my presence in your life and of yours in mine. Put it all in a bag and ask someone to deliver or I will send someone to pick it up. If you want to destroy your used clothes and send the rags for me to check, it's OK, I am going to give them to charity anyway. But don't make the mistake of keeping these things because you know that I have no limits. I am also going to send the number of my banking account to your father. I've already told him that I can wait until he gets the money. I have nothing against him, much less against your mother, who is a victim of the children. One more thing, go have your sexual adventure with the Ecuadorian. This will take you back to your origins as a cheap whore, without scruples or character.
A Handwritten "Suicide" Note My dear daughters: You know witatyou mean to me. I corn- • mitted a senseless act for which I'll have to pay. I destroyed two lives—Sandra's and mine—in a moment ofpattic. With this gei. • ture, I deeply hurt all of those who loved us; • I have lost all interest in living. I waq • you to understand what I'm about to do as • an act of love for you, a reparation for the. • harm I caused you. 4• My defense in a longand painful process • would be impossible. I would say nothing that could denigrate the imageend the memory of Sandra. I only loved twO women in my life, her and your mother.:' • Live with courage and dignitY1tou have • no reason to feel remorse or guilt. Only • Sandra and I know the whole inith and • maybe not the whole one. • I kiss you with the kindnes§ of the most loving of fathers. I'm immensely proud of • you. • To my dear sisters and to my relatives • and friends I leave an appeal that they will • understand me. To the parents of Sandra, a • plea that they will forgive me. I wasn't false • in the friendship I dedicated to all. • • • Pimenta • • •
•
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Passion Made Them Dolt Stories of crimes of passion by celebrities are quite common in Brazil. Here are some of the most notorious of them: 1909 Writer Euclides da Cunha (1866-1909), author of Os Sertoes, is killed in August 1909 by the young cadet Dilermando de Assis, his wife Ma's lover. The famous author was "defending his honor" and trying to kill Assis, but he didn't shoot straight and the lover ended up killing him in legitimate defense. Curiously, Euclides da Cunha, who was an engineer, worked as reporter for 0 Estado de S. Paulo and Os Sertb-es was originally written in 1902 as a series of articles for that paper, which was then called A Provincia de Soo Paulo. 1976 The Doca Street case became a cause for feminists after the murderer, invoking "defense of honor" was sentenced to only two years in prison which was never served. It happened on December 30, 1976. The assassin was Raul "Doca" Street, a playboy from Sao Paulo, who was married to Angela Diniz, a beautiful socialite from the state of Minas Gerais, who became know as the Minas Panther. Doca killed Angela with four shots, after the couple had a squabble in their chalet in the exclusive Bilzios beach resort, in Rio. The playboy accused his wife of a lesbian affair with a German woman. Soon after being sentenced to two years of jail, Doca was free thanks to habeas corpus. His released generated uproar and he was submitted to a second trial in 1981. This time he was sentenced to 15 years in prison converted to house arrest and five years later he was free on probation. 1980 Infuriated with a comment by her husband, ad man Paulo Sergio de Alcantara, that he couldn't feel any desire for "an old woman," singer Dorinha Duval, 51 at the time, killed him on October 5, 1980. Alcantara who was 6 years younger than the crooner was murdered with three shots. Three years after the murder, Duval went to trial and was sentenced to 18 years in jail. On appeal, the sentence was reduced to six years, but all she did was sleep in the jail for six more months. 1981 "I couldn't stand seeing her separated from me and happy." That's tie way bolero singer Lindomar Castilho explained why he killed, in March 1991, his x-wife Eliane Aparecida de Grammont. The couple was married for one year when the crime occurred. The singer suspected his wife of betraying him with his cousin C los Randhal. Eliane was killed with five gunshots on the stage of a Sao Paulo nightclub and Randhal was hurt. In court, the lawyer used the argument of legitimate defense of honor, but it didn't work. Sentenced to 12 years in prison, he went to jail and served the whole sentence. 1987 Writer Leen Eliachar was murdered by two hit men who had been hired by betrayed husband Jose Alberto Ara*, a farmer and coi ncilman in the city of Palmas, state of Parana. Eliachar was killed on June 1, l87, with a shot to the head at his Rio de Janeiro home. The reason for the tragedy was Vera Bini Arafijo. 1992 In this case it is hard to distinguish between fiction and reality. On December 28, 1992, Globo TV actor Guilherme de Padua, With the help of his wife Paula Thomaz, killed actress Daniella Perez, who Was his love interest in the novela (soap opera) Corpo e Alma (Body and Sotil). The murder had some macabre aspects, with Daniella being stabbed 19 times with a dagger or pair of scissors—the police were never able to find the murder weapon. The real motives for the crime were never revealed. In 1997 Guilherme and Paula were condemned to 19 and 18.5 yearS of prison respectively. Both of them, however, are free on parole.
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colleagues in Brazil and Germany, but, please, spare us articles of this kind! Peter Schroder Fortaleza, Ceara, Brazil M11.1111Millgijakillill=11111 Dear Mr. Amaral, in an article that you wrote for Brazzil, you stated that Brazil should accept the Euro to 'help move the country into the 21 century.' I am wondering why you think so? If I understand correctly. the Euro has not proven itself to be quite the savior for Europe that the predecessors to the European Union touted it to be. Except for a few weeks after its inception, it has continued to be very weak (considering its market) against the American dollar and prone to even the most minor gyrations of the global economy. It is a currency that is still going through some discomforting growing pains. While the Euro is not an entirely bad replacement for the real, wouldn't you agree that the Brazilian insistence on looking outwards towards Europe or the United States for a model of success rather than internally at the Brazilian experience has proven itself to be largely unsuccessful? Brazil has pursued this habit of external cannibalization of European ideals - positivism - and American ethics industrialization at any cost - to no avail. The only results has been a slumping economy, an out of control crime rate, intense dissatisfaction on the part of the majority of the populace. See rest of letter online. Ralph Ulysses Via Internet
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Regarding "Overpopulated" by Ricardo C. Amaral, the problem of populational growth is very serious, not only in the great majority of non-industrialized countries, but also on a global level. Unfortunately, Ricardo Amaral's presentation of the problem, referring to Brazil and the United States, is not very serious or, on the contrary, it is the opposite of a serious debate. He argues with some kind of implicit theory of carrying capacity the different regions of the planet might have, concluding that the population of countries like Brazil or the United States has to decrease. Moreover, he accuses some people to have simplistic ideas about the origins of violence of everyday life in Brazil, alleging that they forgot to think about population growth as the principal cause. But this statement backfired, because it is Amaral who proposes simplistic explanations. How can one reason be responsible for such a mess of problems that are shaking Brazil nowadays? We still do not have any trustworthy models which allow to predict demographical sustainability limits of given regions. The question is not only the absolute number of people living in one region or country, but it is above all a question of culture: how well does a given population exploit the natural resources of his environment without destroying it irreversibly? Some years ago, it was published a study entitled "Sustainable Netherlands" showing what would be necessary to change Dutch style of living to make the Netherland's environmental balance ecologically sustainable. This would implicate some drastic changes in the way of living without requiring populational decrease which, by the way, would cause serious problems for the Dutch welfare-state model, depending upon working contributors, and not upon pensioners. As for Germany, there does exist a parallel study. Amaral proposes some crazy solutions for Brazil and the United States as, for example, to close the national frontiers for immigrants. Can he tell us, please, how to do this for countries which were born out of immigration? And if Ricardo Amaral were one of these immigrants, would he include himself among the persons not allowed to immigrate to the States? Finally, that disastrous article contains wrong information. Amaral says that the population of Brazil in 1500 was 0 (!). And the three to five million Indians? They didn't exist'? Brazilian history is not a history of permanent population growth, but for two to three centuries it was a history of dramatic population decline produced by colonization. Is Brazilian history so unknown to Brazilians living in the United States that they even don't know Brazil's ethnic origins? I like Brand and recommended it to friends and 16
I am on my knees begging. I wonder if you could possibly help me or 'point me in the right direction'. I am a researcher here in Britain currently working on a project for one of Britain's TV broadcasters. We have an interest in making a TV documentary on the 1992 murder of TV soap star Daniella Perez and the effects that this case and 'soaps' in general have on Brazilian life. My appeal for help is basically to ask who are the best people in Rio to speak to about this case (obviously Gloria Perez would be a good start). Perhaps one of your journalists would be prepared to talk about this amazing case? Unfortunately I have no Spanish (I apologize) so my basic research is in English. Pete Wilson Great Britain I am writing to you because I am starting a research on plants and herbs of the Brazilian rain forest (Amazon forest) with medical properties. At the moment we are registering most of the material that is already available in the market, and the next step is to research and register species not yet studied. The aim of this e-mail is to find out if you would be interested in the material from this area. I will be able to present you with details about the material including prices. Lebnidas Bertozzi Filho - Forest Engineer Via Internet
Good publication, good job. I am going to read your issues about Brazilian children. I hope you bring good news for them. We, the international community, could follow that the Brazilian government didn't do too much for its favelas and street children. Has that changed? Are your police still that brutal with children and poor? And what about Brazilian women? Their situation, their lives? We love you, Brazilians. The world loves you, the world needs you, so keep fixing your society and respect children and we'll love you even more. Aretha Beds Via Internet I I " I am an American senior citizen and ex-educator, who really enjoys reading Brazzil magazine. The staff of Brazzil is doing a great job producing this publication. I find the magazine informative, interesting, entertaining and educational. It has taught me a lot about the nation of Brazil and its people. As a token of my appreciation I am enclosing advance payment to extend my subscription another two years. Best wishes for continued success. Don Slazinski Ann Harbor, Michigan ' I I have seen many articles about the new Ford at Brazil (Salvador, Bahia); I was there at the beginning of the year. As a matter of fact my wife is from Bahia, I am from Mexico and we both are here in Mexico at this time, but tam really interested in the new Ford factory. I would like to move there with ml wife; I wonder where I can get some information about the human resources department from Salvador Bahia in order to send my resume. Israel Buenrostro Mexico Please renew my subscription to your excellent publication. Thanks to your magazine, I received very advanced notice that Milton Nascimento would be appearing in San Francisco. I ordered tickets far in advance and had front row seats. It was the most amazing concert of my life. I'd have been in the high-altitude section had I waited for notice in the local papers. Keep up the good work. Erin Flanagan Petaluma, California Please extend my subscription for two more years. I really enjoy your magazine. Keep Brazzil going. Muito obrigado pela oportunidade que Brazzil me proporciona de me manter inforrnado sobre o que acontece no Brasil. I am a student of California State University Long Beach since 1997, but my desire is to get a green card and to remain and work in the States. I would appreciate any information about obtaining a green card that you could give me. Joao Rezende de Carvailm Long Beach, Callfcrnia
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Picture a state governor, a provincial or regional leader wher- He gave up the OAS post and returned to Brazil prior to the ever you may be in the world, picking constant fights with your 1998 general elections, when Cardoso was re-elected, and Franco country's president, prime minister or head of state. Said governor was elected governor of Minas Gerais. But some analysts have said feels he is "owed" political favors by the president, so he latches recently that Franco actually expected Cardoso to step aside in on to every opportunity to make life difficult for the national 1998, and "make" Franco the presidential candidate. This would leader—even if it means harming his country's image, and creat- have been payback for Franco having "made" Cardoso the winning ing unnecessary obstacles to much needed economic growth and candidate in 1994. Hard as it is to believe that Franco actually exstability. In other words, openly using government resources to pected this to happen, it does help to explain the heightened bitplace personal goals of questionable legitimacy at the top of his terness of the past two years; Irresponsible and illogical as they may be, none of Franco's appolitical agenda. Could such a governor survive, even thrive where you live? Incredibly, he exists and seems to be making headway parent wishes and desires, or his actions in defense ofwhat he views as his "rights", are difficult to digest in Brazil. These are simply in today's Brazil. Itamar Franco is governor of Minas Gerais, one of Brazil's top part of a deep-rooted tradition of give-and-take that functions at three states economically and politically. He is also a former presi- most levels in Brazilian politics. The giving and taking however, do depend to a great extent dent, a position most political analysts have on political stature, and in no trouble stating he would never have that department, Franco is reached, were it not for an accident or two that terribly lacking. propelled him along the way. Most promiUnable as Itamar nently, he accepted the vice-presidency on the Franco appears to be to see ticket that carried Fernando Collor de Mello himself for what he isn't, to Brasilia in 1989. That put him in the right he has used his return to place at the right time to take over when the political scene as govCollor was slammed with corruption charges ernor of his home state and driven out of power in 1992. almost strictly to take pot A generally lackluster senator before that, shots at President CarFranco's abbreviated presidency from 1992 doso. Indeed, his arrival to 1994 is best remembered for two rather was very costly to all Brabizarre events. In 1993, he asked Volkswagen zilians: as he took office in to bring back the out of production Beetle. January of 1998, his first Volkswagen obliged him, but the outdated act was to declare a moraBeetle fell far short ofits past success, and was Unable as Itamar Franco appears to be to torium on Minas Gerais retired for good three years later. And in 1994, debt payments, allegwhile watching Carnaval parades in Rio, he see himself for what he isn't, he has used his state ing dire financial straits. was visited by a scantily-dressed model who the heels of the Asian had just performed with a samba school: news return to the political scene as governor of On crisis, this had a devastatphotographers and television cameras aimed ing effect. While it wasn't their lenses up at the presidential box, only Minas Gerais almost strictly to take pot shots the only cause, maybe not to catch a lensfull of Ms. Lilian Ramos dancing beside Franco, in an impossibly short at President Fernando Henrique Cardoso. even the biggest, it certainly was instrumental in outfit and wearing no panties. The one major positive event that marked Indeed, his arrival was very costly to all pushing Brazil over the edge, and forcing the deFranco's presidency was the 1994 introducBrazilians. valuation of the real, tion of the Real Plan, but credit for that one which came shortly after. is generally attributed to then-Finance MinADHEMAR ALTIERI Since then, Franco has ister Fernando Henrique Cardoso. And that's earned a variety of adjecwhere Franco's problems with Cardoso betives from politicians and gin. In Brazilian political tradition, a presithe media, ranging from dent—even an accidental one unknowingly ridiculous to emotionally photographed with near-naked models trying unstable, paranoid, mad to make Carnaval headlines, is expected to and exotic. Some of the "make" his successor, that is, name and back moves that drew attention a candidate to replace him. And the resoundinclude threatening to ing early success of the Real Plan left little change the course of a choice but to go with the obvious candidate, major river to render useCardoso, who won the 1994 election handless a federal hydro ily. project, and ordering Itamar Franco has been a bitter man ever army-style maneuvers by since, for numerous reasons—none of them the Minas Gerais military openly accepted by Franco. Whenever quespolice, to suggest he might tioned, he strongly denies personal feelings resist violently to the are ever involved, and always points to quite privatization of Furnas, vague institutional arguments to support his the federally-owned utilattitudes. The impression most observers ity located in his state. have formed of what troubles Franco to this This year, he saw a day, goes something like this: major chance to cash in as - He wishes he had been the candidate instead ofCardoso in 1994, figuring he too, as the sitting President, the MST, the Landless Peasants Movement, took to sending procould have swept to victory on the coattails ofthe Real Plan. Never testers to a farm owned by President Cardoso's family in the town mind that Cardoso and his team, which included then Central Bank ofBuritis, in Minas Gerais state. When it happened for the first time, President and current Finance Minister Pedro Malan, actually state military police, which answer to the state government, were devised and successfully launched the plan, without much input not exactly eager to move in and defend the president's property, so the federal government positioned an army detachment inside from Franco; - Franco feels he didn't receive his due "reward" from Cardoso, the farm. Franco complained loudly, described it as an invasion, although he was appointed Brazil's ambassador to Portugal, and and went so far as to imply there might be a clash between the army then ambassador to the Organization of American States in Wash- and his state troopers—an absurdity at best. In September, Franco got a second shot at it: the MST sent a ington, D.C. His performance was negligible in both posts, only noticeable because of his constant whining and complaining, al- few hundred protesters back to the Cardoso farm, as it intensified though both are important diplomatic positions which he report- its protests with invasions of federal buildings throughout the country. As soon as word came that another MST protest march edly asked for;
Clumsy Shooter
18
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
was headed for the farm, the federal government consulted with tute, as long as Franco continues to have positive numbers on the the state government in Minas Gerais, to ensure there would be domestic front, he can be expected to continue his personal crupolice protection. Several attempts yielded no firm response, so sade against President Cardoso, because it does not appear to be once again an army detachment was sent in. That was the cue for harming his image a home. For now, Franco is supported by about Itamar Franco 's latest tirade. two-thirds of voter in Minas Gerais. What happens elsewhere With the army inside the Cardoso farm, and MST protesters doesn't seem to bother Franco, but the effects are there. At a meeting marching outside the property, Franco turned his government pal- with investors in Miami last week, a director of the Brazilian Cenace in Belo Horizonte, more than 700 kilometers away, into a bunker tral Bank heard the following question: "How many more Itamars of sorts: special operations units of the state military police were are there in Brazil anyway?" brought in, with armored cars parked in front of main entrances and sharpshooters in fatigues positioned on the palace roof. The stunned Adhemar Alfieri is a veteran with major news outlets in media corps were called in for a press conference, and the goverBrazil, Canada and the United States. He holds a Master's nor explained he had fortified the palace because of "secret inforDegree in Journalism from Northwestern University in mation" he received, which justified those measures. Franco then Evanston, llinois, and spent ten years with CBS News compared himself to former Chilean President Salvador Allende, reporting from Canada and Brazil. Altieri is a member of the who died during a 1973 military coup in Santiago... Virtual Intelligence Community, formed by The Greenfield Then came the icing on the cake: Franco announced he had Consulting Group to identify future trends for Latin America. asked Minas Gerais state government attorneys to seek a legal way He is also the edito r of InfoBrazil (http://www.infobrazil.com), of making the Cardoso farm available for land reform. A pointless an English-language weekly e-zine with analysis and opinions exercise obviously intended as another poke at President Cardoso, on Brazilian polilics and economy. You can reach the author since state governments do not have the authority to expropriate at editors@infobrazilcom land, and the Cardoso farm does not fit the "unproductive" criteria normally used to expropriate farms for land reform purposes. As the month progressed, Franco turned up the heat and sent a detachment of his state military police to Buritis, while the army remained positioned inside the farm. All along, the insinuation was that Minas Gerais police and the army might clash—again, a notion that is as completely over the top as can be. At this writing, state police have been called back from Buritis without having ventured anywhere near the BEST SERVICE + BEST RATES farm. The army remains inside the AIR - IATA 01-1-9279-012 property, and the Landless Peasants OCEAN - FMC 3853 have moved out of the area to an encampment 14 kilometers away— they 'iv not about to leave their most visible protest in a longtime, and are now planning to keep members camped near the Cardoso farm permaTO ANY AIRPORT IN BRAZIL nently, to move in and out according to circumstances, or the need to be on national television. The federal government has said the army will leave the farm ifthe state government guarantees a police presence, but that FULL CONTAINE & DIRECT CONSOLIDATIONS seems highly unlikely: Franco will certainly prefer to leave Cardoso's WITHOUT TRANSLOADING IN MIAMI property at the mercy of the landless protestors. Has any of this hurt Itamar Franco's image? Nationally, yes—he has certainly become something of a political clown in the national media. This week's issue of the top-selling newsmagazine Veja for example, features a cartoon ofFranco on the cover with the caption "Nuthouse Napoleon or Opportunist?" But incredibly, he's coming out smelling like roses in his home state, where he is seen as living up to his campaign promise to "raise the voice" of Minas on the national stage. Indeed, since being elected in 1998, the governor has been a prime example of a one-track mind at work, at the expense of everything else, including the nation's best interests. Political scientist Carlos Ranulfo de Mello of the Federal University of Minas Gerais, quoted in Veja, put it bluntly: "from the standpoint of public policies, the Itamar government does not exist". According to Marcos Coimbra, head of the Vox Populi polling insti-
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The time to eliminate visa requirements between the United States and Brazil is long overdue. Old curtains of cultural isolation that once opened only annually to allow for lustful pursuit of Carnaval pleasures hang like a pall before the window of a brighter future. Brazil desperately needs tourist dollars, particularly in the impoverished Northeast where climate and other factors conspire against other forms of significant economic development. Moreover, the world needs to know Brazil, with its rich tapestry of cultural diversity and penchant for holding onto happiness in the face of overwhelming challenges. Increasing international investment in the South and Southeast ofBrazil, and movement in the direction of free trade between all the nations of the Western Hemisphere adds further impetus and urgency to the need for facilitating freer movement ofpeople between our two great nations. The unnecessary inconvenience of a visa requirement symbolizes an inherent lack of trust, threatens to strangle the lucrative potential for generating tourist income and undermines stated US free trade goals. And what purpose beyond limiting the duration of a visitor's stay does a visa serve? Americans traveling to Brazil leave bushels of US dollars fueling service industries and the growth of cottage industries featuring hand crafted goods. The sale ofhandicrafts in the Northeast is a major source of income for many peasants who specialize in lacework, leather goods and stone carvings. Brazilians traveling to the United States discover, and return with a fondness for, "the good life" that North Americans would like to see permanently rooted throughout the New World. Tourism in New York, Miami, Washington DC, Boston and Los Angeles wouldn't be so robust without Brazilian tourist dollars. Brazilians rank near the top, if not at the top, in terms of dollars spent per foreign tourist in the Big Apple. And, at least in Miami, Brazilian investment dollars are having an impact on the purchase of business real estate. But perhaps the most powerful argument for eliminating visa requirements is that they're simply a Perhaps the most powerful argument "hassle", a form of diplomatic harassment that really can no longer for eliminating visa requirements is be justified. There is no visa requirement between the United States and Mexico, in spite of concerns related to illegal immigration and that they're simply a hassle, a form of drug trafficking. I recently visited the US Department of State Bureau of Consular diplomatic harassment that really can Affairs website (http://travel.state.gov/foreignentryreqs.html) for "Foreign Entry Requirements", April 2000. Data there makes the US/ no longer be justified. Brazil mutual visa requirement relationship difficult to understand. The entire list of New World countries that require tourist visas for PHILIP MISZEWSKI US travelers are Brazil, Cuba, El Salvador and Suriname. Panama will accept either a tourist card or a visa for tourists. Some places that don't require tourist visas do require visas for other reasons, although that doesn't appear to be a general rule. Jamaica, for instance, requires a visa for business and/or study. US tourists to Guyana and Jamaica can stay indefinitely without the need for a visa, in the Bahamas for eight months and for six months in Antigua & Barbuda, Canada, Dominica, Nicaragua, Saint Vincent & the Grenadines, the Virgin Islands and the British West Indies. Argentina, Aruba, Barbados, Bermuda, Chile, Costa Rica, Ecuador, the French West Indies Grenada, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Mexico, Paraguay, Peru, Saint Kitts & Nevis, Saint Lucia, Trinidad & Tobago, Uruguay and Venezuela will accept US tourists for up to 90 days without visas. In the Dominican Republic two months is allowable and Belize, Bolivia and Colombia are good for one. The Netherlands Antilles offers a modest 14 days, but that two-week period is extendable to three months. Two of the seven islands in the French West Indies, Martinique and Guadeloupe, don't even require a passport from US citizens for tourist or business stays of up to two weeks, provided they can show proof of U.S. citizenship and a photo ID. Its not that there aren't issues between nations that warrant some level of control as citizens pass into or out of one another. Mexico and Venezuela, for instance, have tourist card requirements. But a tourist card for Venezuela can be obtained from airlines serving Venezuela without a charge. It can't be extended, but a multiple-entry visa valid up to a year, and extendible, can be obtained from any Venezuelan Consulate for a $30 fee. It requires completion of an application form, a photo, a copy of an onward/return ticket, proof of sufficient funds and certification of employment. Venezuelan business visas can be obtained for $60 with a need letter from the company stating the purpose of the trip and accepting responsibility for the traveler, along with the names and addresses of any companies to be visited there. So special consideration can be given to address exceptional circumstances without severely discouraging tourist travel that offers economic and social advantages to both parties. Tourism, at a minimum, should be facilitated with relative ease. And, in light of the fact that we seem to be seeing development of a New World free trade zone, it seems that the Western Hemisphere's two giants would benefit from facilitating relative ease ofbusiness travel. Brazil is a large and, in some areas of enterprise, potentially intimidating competitor. Without accusing anyone of impropriety, I would like to assert that visa requirements should not be allowed to grow out of trade disputes, and should never be used as instruments of punishment in foreign relations between friendly nations. After all, visa requirements are always reciprocal. If the United States punishes another nation by requiring that each of its citizens traveling here have a visa, then each of its own citizens will likewise need a visa to enter that other country. It is in the national interest of the United States to encourage Brazilian economic prosperity as it institutionalizes democratic principles and privately owned free enterprise. Brazil has emerged from its chrysalis, and the United States would do well to welcome it into the light of nations. The United States should unilaterally offer to drop its visa requirement for Brazilian citizens, and petition Brazil to reciprocate as soon as is reasonably possible. 20
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
A Dream Bordello "You know what the people need most? A whorehouse! I am going to retire from the police soon and I am going to build the biggest and best whorehouse in the whole of Amazonas. The whole country will know my name, I shall be famous." PHILIP BLAZDELL
As soon as term finished and the last of the papers were graded, I packed my rucksack and hit the road. I was the perfect traveler, I had no definite plan and no definite itinerary. I crammed three weeks of clothes, sleeping bag, cameras, maps, mosquito nets and my hammock into my smallest traveling pack and left. It was as simple as that. It always is. By the time I arrived in Belem, 26 hours later, tired, hot and relieved to be away from the office I had formulated a rough plan. I would travel north by bus, boat or foot not stopping till I ran out of road. The simplicity of the plan appealed to me and I set off in search of a boat. The captain of the boat I eventually found, after a hot sticky afternoon trekking round the grimy docks of downtown Belem, looked at me with a mixture of suspicion and surprise. He was a big solid man, who unlike his ancient boat, which sat mournBRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
fully rotting in th low tide, looked like he could deal with anything life care to throw at him. He wasn't sure when he would be ready t leave, but yes he was going north and was prepared to takes me passengers, but why didn't I want to fly? As he left sha 'ng his head and pocketing the 20 dollars we had agreed on fo my passage upriver he jerked his thumb towards the desert d deck and told me I could sleep on deck that night instead of pa ing for a hotel. Later as the sun sank, the crew sprawled on the cr aking wooden dock playing cards by candlelight and drinking rum. As the stars began to come out the crew drifted off and le me alone—totally alone. I climbed onto the top deck, slung m hammock and listened to the lapping of the water against the ull. The next mo ing, as the sun began to rise the stevedores arrived to load th boat. They smiled at me, with taut rippling muscles homed om years of back breaking work, as if it was perfectly normal o find a lone English man asleep on the top deck of a perfec ily deserted boat on the edge of the mighty Amazon river. I lid in my hammock letting the early morning sun warm my sti f joints and bones, enjoying the pure luxury of watching othe people work. By the time ! ad mustered sufficient energy to go in search of breakfast the • ay was piled high with every possible commodity you coulu imagine. The basics of daily life, such as toothpaste, flour and several carcasses of beef were stacked precariously alo gside spare parts for a tractor, several engine blocks, six remo ded tractor tires, four outboard motors, case after case after ca e of beer, boxes of contraceptives and a whole load of things wu ich l am sure wasn't really what I thought it was. I walked off imlessly towards the town in search of some food. The firsts ack I came to outside of the boatyard was run by a wizened to • hless old man of indeterminable age, whose skin was so burn by the sun that he looked vaguely like a peach stone that has be n left in the sun to dry. I warmed to him instantly. 21
He poured me a chilled caja juice into a cracked dirty cup and invited me into the shade ofh is living-room-cumbedroom-cum-kitchen. His few possessions lay scattered on the floor and a wide-eyed child laid feverishly in the hammock, which was strung from the rafters. 'I am happy', he said as way of explanation to my unasked question, 'what more can a man aspire to than a view of the river, a roof over his head and the respect of the community'. The boat, the Bom Jesus (as in Jesus—will that really float?) was still being loaded 12 hours later and the stevedores seemed to be on their last legs as they staggered up and down the quay with increasingly heavy and cumbersome loads. A few more passengers had drifted onto the boat with their possessions tied in their colorful hammocks and began to make themselves comfortable. I sat on the rail writing my diary, a few of the passengers cast me doubtful looks clearly not accustomed to seeing a lone, and very scruffy English man sitting half naked in the late afternoon sun scribbling away. The quay was now alive with passengers, shipping officials rushing around with grubby manifests talking ten to the dozen, stevedores throwing more boxes of crackers into the hold and peddlers selling everything from savory pastries to toothpaste. Typically the one salesman I wanted to come by, the beer man, was nowhere to be seen and I was forced to slate my thirst with a bottle of warm mineral water. I thought: Theroux never has these problems. Just after 5 PM the engines spluttered to life and we slowly edged our way from the dock in a cloud of diesel fumes and smoke. On the far bank of the river, which was just visible through the evening's heat haze and diesel fumes, a huge electrical storm was beginning to brew. Fork lightening flickered across the sky, strobing the landscape into elemental shades of black and charcoal. The night was still humid and amongst the 15 or so hammocks that were strung on the top deck the air was thick and syrupy. The passengers slumped in their hammocks swinging in the humidity, some took out ancient leather bound bibles to read, whilst others instantly fell into deep peaceful sleep. I sat on the rail with a slight breeze in my face as the boat grumbled and shuddered its way into the fast midriver flow. Smells of cooking began to waft up from the deck below. My first meal on the boat was surprisingly good. Th
22
chef was obviously talented as he had managed to turn a bucket full of chicken entrails, some cold greasy spaghetti, some macaroni and some crunchy farinha (a flour made from the local manioc root) into a tasty meal. I climbed back on top and wiggled through the mass of hammocks in search of some air. I had heard that this trip would take about a day, which seemed reasonable. The original estimate from the captain had been 24 hours, but other passengers seemed skeptical and gave me estimates ranging from three to five days, depending on traffic on the river, breakdowns and such things. For the tourist with a fixed itinerary this might cause problems. Timetables and plans have little meaning here where life is tied inherently with the pace and tides ofthe river. As! had found in trying to track down a boat, it is a land of myths—boats which are said to exist, don't. Busses leave when they are full and at no set times and captains potter up and down the river under their own personal agendas and everyone accepts it for what it is—the life blood of this region and an excellent way of traveling and meeting people. Merely being here implies an adventurous spirit. As the hot humid night wore on, the Brazilians began to warm to me and lost their suspicions of my notebook and camera. They slowly began to open up to me, calling out the names of two-shack towns we passed, asking me a million and one questions about my life and primping and preening themselves every time they caught a glimpse of my camera. Towards nine o'clock the passengers began to gravitate towards the back of the boat and huddled round the television, which was bolted to. the rafters. The huge parabolic reflector dish which was mounted on the back of the boat, and looked like it had been cobbled together from the leftovers from a low budget sci-fi movie, was carefully positioned by a crew man who found that the best picture quality was achieved by suspending an empty bottle of beer from the rim of the dish. The screen crackled into life to polite applause just in time for us to catch the opening credits of the latest novela (soap opera). The deck was silent as the intrigues on screen unfolded, the jungle which was closing in around us with thick foliage was forgotten and even the sound of parrots returning home to roost was pushed to one side as the strange and surreal on-screen events unfolded. At the front of the boat all was in darkness, the man at the wheel was staring keenly out into the night, no lights or radar spoiled his view as we chugged along.! chose not to think too deeply about the ramifications of this and retired to my hammock. The next morning I sat on deck shivering as the sun came up. I was wrapped in almost all of my clothes and chilled to the bone. A thin, vaguely menacing mist hung limply over the river. I felt miserable and cold. There was no reason really for me to be here and I suddenly felt terribly isolated amongst the gently snoring bodies. Slowly people began to wake and the day-to-day bustle of the boat resumed. Ana, who had slung her hammock next to mine, and was a source of endless facts, gave a mammoth yawn, stretched and passed me her still sleeping baby whilst she went downstairs to wash. I paced around on the back deck of the boat scared of waking BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
the sleeping baby whom she was taking upriver to visit someone or other—our conversation had gone round in circles long into the night leaving me utterly confused. Her grandmother shot me a toothless grin, which obviously meant something profound. When Ana returned, relieving me of my charge, I fell into conversation with another passenger who was something big in the military police. Despite the fact it was still early in the day he pulled out a bottle of cane brandy and poured Nil 11111111111111.1111 me a large shot. The first shot had just begun to warm my aching bones when the second shot kicked in and I began to feel a little better about life. 'I have a dream', the policeman whispered conspiratorially to me, 'there is so much land I didn't, on that da , see that that their world had grown here, so much potential. You know what the people need too small and despi e its satellite dishes, its cellular phones, most?', he took a long sip of brandy, 'A whorehouse! I its trucks, and it televisions, Amazonas remained am going to retire from the police soon, I am not a rich unsubdued. man, but I have saved a little bit of money. I am going to After another i teresting lunch offarinha and chicken go up river, buy a piece of land and I am going to build entrails I sprawled out on the back of the boat and picked the biggest and best whorehouse in the whole of up my book. I had only read a few pages when I noticed Amazonas. The whole country will know my name, I shall that two of the chi dren who had been tearing about the be famous and the people will be happy and contented.' boat with endless e ergy were standing a few yards away He poured me another large shot of brandy and left me staring at me inte tly. After a while they plucked up sitting in the sun contemplating this staggering revelation. courage and came little bit closer. The older of the two Traveling along the river is more than a pleasant way asked me what I w s doing and examined my book with to spend a few lazy days. The river provides the lifeblood a mixture of respe t, curiosity and suspicion. 'Is it interof many towns and small villages, which have no other esting?', he asked a shy self conscious voice, and then links with the outside world. We stopped at one such small quite unexpectedl plopping himself down next to me, town later that morning. The whole town had gathered on 'can you read so e of it to me?.' It's in English', I exthe small dock to wait for our arrival. The town, which plained. This see ed to cause him some problems as he consisted of a few shacks huddled together in a particu- screwed up his fa and looked at me through eyes hard larly malarial looking bank of the river, rely each week beyond his years. began to read in a slow clear voice. on the supplies, which the boat brings up. For twenty minut s or so he sat listening to me as I read Within a few moments of our arrival the crew and from 'Crime and nishment' . His mother and two ofher towns folk had unloaded 500 kg of flour, several agricul- friends came over o listen as well. We chugged into the tural machines, two dozen cases of beer and cachaca and small hamlet of Br ves just as I finished the chapter. The two mysteriously large German sausages, which had two children wer sleeping gently slumped against my suddenly appeared from the owners cabin in a rather shoulder. Their m ther looked relieved. phallic gesture. One of the women I had been chatting to It was at the sm lltown ofBreves that I hit rock bottom. the previous night suddenly appeared on deck in a beauI put it down to lac ofsleep, a year or so of continual traytifully tailored trouser suit, jumped nimbly onto the dock eling, poor diet an a substantial lack of moral character, and tossed her Chanel bag into a waiting pirogue and but when I saw th millions of people who were spilling vanished off into the forest. I stood blinking in the bright onto the boat and slinging their hammocks with wild sunlight. Half our cargo swapped for new passengers we abandon from eve possible nook and cranny I thought were off on our way again and the policeman was pour`Do I really need t go through this?' Claustrophobia, or ing me larger and larger shots of brandy. more fear of crow s is a major phobia of mine and the 60 These scenes of domestic normality played out on that or so people who ere jostling for space (albeit in a lovely sunny quay touched something fundamental in me and Brazilian—this ca only possibly end in a party—type of made my spirit soar once more. The Amazon has undoubt- manner) sent me s inning off in a cold sweat. I had never edly changed since the first Europeans arrived but it seen anything lik it, not even traveling third class on a remains a region without compromise, the world in its Chinese boat. I lo ed at my bag, which was packed, and extreme. There are few places as huge and as wild. By then back at the m lee of hammocks and than across the admitting that its inhabitants can drive, and that they are quay to the town ing to decide if I jumped ship here neither wiser nor purer nor stronger than you its power would I get stuck, and if so for how long. is not diminished. It is fairer to judge the people who make It took me a fe moments to come to my senses and their lives here squarely as modern people and as equals. to think of the sto ies I could tell when I got home and They were born by chance in a hard land, at a hard time instead of fleeing took out my camera and began to snap in its history, pretending otherwise does them no justice. away. As we nudg dour way out of Breves the boat began Despite all the scare stories I had read in the newspapers to make sounds li e an old person eating custard, which BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
23
didn't seem at all encouraging. My journey suddenly seemed a trifle frivolous. A few drinks later, (Jam never sure ifI drink to travel or travel to drink) things looked a lot better and I managed to write the word 'homely' in my diary without my hand shaking too much. My spirits soared as we passed through some dense jungle, which was, for once, close enough to the boat to be interesting. For a while we were followed by a flotilla of simple dug out canoes, each one piloted by a young girl of indeterminable age and determinable beauty. My friend the policeman had joined me at the rail and spent an amusing hour or so attempting to get the girls to show him their breasts or inviting them to join him in something that I just couldn't manage to translate. Its nice to know the fate of the country is in such stable hands. I crawled into my hammock and thought: 'this is not so bad after all'. Two minutes later I was sound asleep. Sometime in the night we hit some choppy water and the hammocks began to swing menacingly. I laid there in the blissful state between being fully awake and being asleep and watched the hammocks swinging, I wondered what would happen if they hit resonance. No one else stirred and as I drifted off to sleep it occurred to me that the collective term for hammocks (rede in Portuguese—pronounced hedgee) should be a hades of redes. I amused myself with my own cleverness until the sun began to rise. It was quite a sad and poignant parting when we reached Santa Ana. I had traveled through a lot with these people, including some of the lowest times I have ever experienced on the road, and it seemed a little melancholic just to slip away without a proper goodbye. Ana's grandmother caught me as I was jumping over the rail and gave me a toothless kiss (more of a
suck I guess) and wished me 'Godspeed' . Ana just blushed some more and told me to take care. My policeman friend scribbled his address on a cigarette packet and told me never to forget our dreams. I felt sad and terribly alone once again. I took a taxi and crossed the equator, and then just for fun we drove back and crossed it again. After the third time the taxi driver told me to stop buggering around and insisted on driving me out of town. Some people just have no sense of occasion. A short time later I stood in the middle of Brazil's most northerly road slack jawed. The road leading north appeared reasonably good but the bus driver was insistent, it might take a number of days to reach Oiapoque or it might take a few hours, he really couldn't be sure. I still had no agenda but felt grubby and tired. Another long bus trip was not high on my list of preferred pastimes j ust then. I sat in the shade and wondered what to do, I had no idea how the next stage ofthe journey would work out, or even where I was going, so I took the cowards way out and went back to the airport. I crossed the equator twice more just for fun, and then an hour later I left the country... The author is a regular contributor to numerous travel magazines. He has traveled widely in Brazil and can often be found trying to go from A to B in the most difficult manner imaginable whilst using someone else's money. His only regret is that the coach companies don't offer frequent flyer miles. Articles by the author ranging from Tibet to China to Africa can be found at www.bootsnall.com. He can be contacted at philip(&,dem.ufc.br, and promises, if he is not away falling of the edge of the map somewhere, to write back.
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BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
igriirotw The Impii name of Being female There is a lot of research trying to explain how and why women write. But there is still a long way to go. Literary criticism has not recognized the right place of women in literature yet. Lygia Fagundes Telles 11.11
Hilda Hilst
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
NILZA AMARAL
"Imagine the sex among flower ,this strong stalk penetrating this red hibiscus. Don't be afraid to rest your han s over these strange lovers, my dear. It will be a wonderful sensation." (The Fl • rist) In our times it is very difficult ti state concepts. The modernity due to globalization mixed up cultures and in act nobody can say what defines the culture of a nation nowadays. The word f Iklore has lost its real meaning. Is it good? I do not think so. The narrowness of national literature has little meaning today. The world has become larger and arger. We had better speak about a world literature. Globalization advises e eryone to consider literature as a world's possession. We have to look beyon our national horizon; it is impossible to live a typical life in the calmness of o i nation. The means of communication will find us. The "big brother- is peep g. However it is very true for man people, mainly for men, that literature made by women is attached to the erotic o lascivious writing. Worse than that thought there is another one that places the feminine literature in the rank of the cheap erotism found in those libidinous agazines that can be bought at newsstands. Once I heard from a critic that w imen who write pretend to be elegant in their writing, trying to imitate Anas in style for example, or write in a way to demonstrate "the supremacy of th fragile sex." Another group considers the feminine literature as a stereotyp d portrait of commonplace: a sweet home surrounded by well cultivated gardr ns, a family in the proper frame, and blames the author for not making a stand en today's political and social problems and forgetting the cultural movement or which every writer is responsible. I cannot see any difference be i een men and women who write. Both are writers for me. Women differ deeply in the field of impressions and ideas. Feminine impressions are very di rent from those of men's, as they reveal the interior of a feminine soul. Unde eath a tender love there is sometimes a courageous Êlan, a vehemence of pas ion and desire often misunderstood. It would be better to consider th literature made by women as a kind of cover for emotions and sensations some imes impossible to utter. In Brazil this idea of sexuality is connected to the fre dom of the sixties. At last, women were free to spread their ideas over the worl • and the feminine literature since then has chosen its track between the psyc ological and the erotical ones, achieving in this sense a very interesting mix re. The correlativity between women and mystery seems to come from the B ble, thus establishing a kind of myth hard to deal with. In my lectures I use to say that the language sets the difference between an obscene reading and a literary one. e choice of accurate words and the writing technique establish the border. I fact, women had a tough time getting into literature and being accepted soci ly in Brazil. The first legislation concerning the social role of women dates fr.ol 1827 assuring them only complementary study. Although men were allowe o to go to school since 1840 women weren't given the same right before 1876. In the middle of the 19th cen ry, women were still set apart from the cultural life even from their family i embers' lives. Their father decided about marriage and if they refused the c osen husbands they were sent to a convent to be nuns. As they were to marry t fourteen, the level of learning at school was basic. Visiting Brazil between Ap il 1865 and July 1866, Swiss physician and naturalist Jean Louis Rodolphe gassiz (1807-1873) wrote about women's education in Brazil: "There is no oman that conjecturing about the subject is 25
unaware of a life of oppression and restraint." Why had they to study iftheir life would only develop in the closed circle of their home? Ask the male society of that time. By that time the path from home to literature was not an easy one, even for the most tolerant and free women. What would have women to say besides that they were born to raise children and take care of their husbands? Women were supposed to be at the head ofthe house but it was only a role to play as an image of Saint Virtuosity. From those chairs they looked like ruling the house hence carrying out the illusion of power. A great many women hide themselves behind masculine nicknames as George Sand for a remote example, even though that name was always connected to Chopin. It can be interesting but looks like fake. Nowadays there are a great number of women who write in Brazil, but they have already experienced how hard it is to publish. Men for the most part say that women write for leisure, to waste their free time and should not be taken seriously. In 1922, during the Semana de Arte Moderna, Tarsila do Amaral, Oswald de Andrade's wife, introduced Patricia Galva() to the intellectual society as a writer. She was only 12 and later she would be better known as Pagu. Oswald de Andrade was the leader of the cultural movement and Patricia Galva() would become Andrade' s next wife. Her first book was written in 1931 and published two years later under the nickname of Mara Lobo. It is said that Pagu was someone important at that time because she was a journalist involved with politics. She was important mostly for her journalistic chronicles in the column named "The woman ofthe People,"—meaning masses. She was published in a newspaper together with Oswald de Andrade. In 1931, the publication was closed by the police after quarrels between journalists and students from the Sao Paulo Law School. Later on, activist Pagu was arrested in France and coming back to Brazil remained in prison for five years from 1935 to 1940. She was connected to the Workers' Party and to communism. She continued writing and classified women in classes. According to Pagu's categories, the mares ofthe same pedigree were unproductive and futile. We can say that Pagu was essentially the first feminist politically correct in Brazil. Women who write are always constructing new paths, trying to find a feminine identity. Clarice Lispector, a Jewish writer born in the Ukraine, living in Brazil, in his novel A Hora da Estrela talks about poverty and lack of identity that most women in Brazil suffer. Her heroine, Macabea, comes from an arid region to Rio de Janeiro to live in complete poverty. She lives on the fringes of society due to her ignorance and illiteracy and draws inspiration from Hollywood star Marylyn Monroe, whose fading picture decorates her wall. Through Macabea the writer describes a woman's destiny. There is a lot of research trying to explain how and why women write. But there is still a long way to go. Literary criticism has not recognized the right place of women in literature yet. In an effort to change this state of affairs we decided to found REBRA (Rede de Escritoras Brasileiras—Brazilian Women Writers Network) a non-governmental, non-profitable organization (NGO) that assembles and renders service to women writers in Brazil and helps them to establish themselves as professionals. Founded on a Woman's International Day, on March 8, 1999, REBRA intends to rectify the great injustice that women writers in particular and Brazilian women in general have suffered and continue to suffer besides being excluded from the historical records of our society. We have made a public commitment to literature, culture and social justice, understanding that the ideas expressed in written have the power to change human society. I dare even say that if reading a book does not change a reader behavior in any way the reading was useless. We have observed that society has changed completely by means of what is written by their 26
women. We work in cooperation with a worldwide organization headquartered in the United States, the WWWORLD (Women's World Organization of Culture, Literature and Development). In Latin America, we work in partnership with RELAT (Rede de Escritoras LatinoAmericanas) with head offices in Peru, which acts in South America and Mexico. Our guidelines are as follows: 1—To permanently defend women's universal rights. 2—To permanently defend human beings' rights to free expression. 3—To enable the exercise of solidarity and fraternity with no restrictions whatsoever. 4—To promote respect and preservation of the Humanity culture assets in Brazil and abroad. 5—To promote respect and preservation of the planet's environment. 6—To repudiate any form of violence to human life. 7—To publicly repudiate any form ofprejudice, tacit or explicit to the female gender. 8—To repudiate any form of color, race, faith and gender prejudice. 9—To fight for justice and equality envisaging the well being of the human race. All who agree with and share these same ideals are invited to visit our homepage and become more familiar with our work. Lygia Fagundes Telles, Nelida Pirion, and Rachel de Queiroz, all of them famous authors, are our honorable members. Late Clarice Lispector as well as Lygia Fagundes Telles are believed to have had profound influence on women writers in Brazil this century. Regarding literature made by women there is another important fact: after having published the writer is often forgotten. Despite being published the book disappears. There are no reviews, the book is dead. This was valid in the past and continues to be true today. Great women writers appeared as meteors that brightened the skies for a brief period and then disappeared for good. Nowadays Brazil has a good team of women authors writing poetry and prose in a variety of styles and themes. I would like to mention Hilda Hilst, "the forgotten poet," as she calls herself. She's been interviewed constantly though by important magazines that deal with literature. A team of first-class writers goes on producing masterpieces, as Adelia Prado, a housewife whose writing from my viewpoint is associated with a devilish religiosity. Analyzing my last novel, 0 Florista (The Florist) a critic commented: "The author describes Tulipa, the heroine, as a woman who wants to be the owner of her body and her desires, breaking up the usual convention the readers put on women." I partly agree when he says that readers expect to find a placid story or a family saga when they read a book written by a woman. Discrimination is a dangerous word. Whether written by men or women, literature should be considered art and should not be subject to prejudice that would hinder the freedom of expression. I would like to stress that first impressions must be revised since there is no universal truth nowadays. Everything may be changed, even the speed of light. Concerning art there is no genetical license to exist. Nilza Amaral is a Brazilian writer. She has published The Day of the She-Wolves, Love in a Zafron Field, Modus Diabolicus, The Estoica Balad and The Florist. She belongs to Rebra (http://rebra.org) and UBE (www.utopia.com.br). You can reach her at nilzamar@osite.com.br BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
0 boitata piscou na parte mais baixa do brejo. Cruz-credo. Mas o boitata era genio born, protegia os matos e os campos contra incendios. A velha tinha receio major de viventes desconhecidos, pegajosos, traigoeiros, que se arrastam sem fazer ruido e picam, ou entao saltam e cravam unhas recurvas na carne dos mortais. HELIO POLVORA
A velha Joana levantou a saia de chita acima dos tornozelos mirrados e entalou-a entre as pernas. Entrou na agua e sentiu o frio subir-lhe pelo corpo. As piabas que enxameavam a beira da fonte correram para o mais fundo. 0 vento agitou adiante, no brejo, as taiobeiras que au i cresciam em moitas fechadas, de urn verde-escuro de casco de garrafa, cheias de sumo. Curvando-se, ainda a sustentar a saia no aperto das coxas BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
The boitata winked in the lowest part of the marsh. Cruz-credo. But the bOata was a good demon; he protected the woods and fields against fires. The old woman was more afraid of unknown living things, sticky, treacherous, which creep noiselessly and sting, or else jump and dig their curved claws into the flesh of mortals. TRANSLATED BY PATRICIA PERKINS
Old Joann raised her calico skirt above her shriveled ankles and caught it etween her legs. She entered the water and felt its coldness ri e through her body. The minnows swarming at the edge ofthe pring hurried into deeper water. The wind rushed through the ta 'obeiras up ahead in the marsh, which grew there in closed thic ets of dark bottle-green, full of sap. Bending ver, to keep her skirt pressed between her thin 27
magras, onde a carne bamba tremia em volta do osso, a velha Joana lavou a cara. Quando a superficie da agua serenou, as ondas dispersivas perdendo-se entre as taiobeiras, ela viu o rosto refletir-se—um rosto enrugado, de pergarninho, como se feito de couro velho que houvesse, corn o passar do tempo, encolhido, fonnando end° todas aquelas pregas. Entardecia. Corn jeito, ainda sustentando a saia para nao molhar a barra, a velha comecou a vadear a fonte por uma das margens mais rasas na direcao das taiobeiras. Sabia quais as venenosas, quais as que podia cozinhar para urn ensopado parecido corn o de folhas de couve. Escolheu as taiobas mamas, cortando-as pelos tabs seivosos, fez um pequeno feixe que a mao tremula abarcava e vadeou outravez a fonte. 0 vento soprava. Em volta os matos estavam, porem, quietos, mas aquele sossego nao enganava a velha. Ia chover, corn certeza. Ia desabar uma tempestade. S6 nao podia calcular a hora. Talvez de madrugada, talvez pela manha, quando o sol quisesse raiar. Era uma coisa que se sentia no ar, no torpor da mata, no vento, nos cheiros. Iurupari, o demonio das solidoes, lhe segredava is so, malicioso. Uhm-uhm. Como se ela, corn um seculo de vida ou quase, nao soubesse pressagiar a chegada das ventanias e de aguaceiros. Peludinho, deitado sobre folhas secas, a lingua estirada entre dentes pontiagudos, olhou a dona que saia da fonte, mexeu-se e as folhas estralejaram. Era um cao pequeno de pelo fano e macio, cor do café-com-leite. Aqui e ali, no dorso, v iamse tufos de pelo amarelado. A velha Joana saiu da fonte, arriou a saia e cocou urn pe corn o outro, para soltar a lama do fundo da fonte grudada na sola e entre os dedos. Peludinho parou a arfar e fitou-a, desta vez atento. Antes, quando ainda filhote, mal saido daninhada, chamarase Vulcao, provavelmente porque alguem achou o polo parecido corn a cor da lava a escorrer de encostas. A velhaganhara-o anos atras, nao recordava direito quantos, nurna de sua,s perambulac6es pela vizinhanca, apoiada a urn bordao que nAo passava de urn galho rijo de arvore descascado. Islao gostou do nome. Vulcao? Que queria dizer? A senhora proprietaria da ninhada explicou-lhe que havia batizado o cao depois de folhear urn dicionario grosso de Jayme de Seguier corn estampas coloridas. A velha soltou uma risada curta e grossa, suamaneira predileta de encerrar conversas inexplicaveis, e acariciou o cao, que nao tardaria a se aninhar no seu cob, o focinho pressionando a barriga magra e encovada. Mais tarde, semanas depois, uma moca das redondezas, que freqiientava escola rural e aprendia a ler em manuais de Felisberto de Carvalho, disse-lhe que vulcao era urn monte que soltava fumo, fogo e peconha. Peconha? Cruzcredo. Peconha, sinha Joana, 6 o mesmo que veneno. Arrenegado seja o demanio. Pois de ora em diante ele vai ser Peludinho. Vem cá, meu filho, salta aqui pro cobo da mamae velha, meu amor. Peludinho se Os em pd, arisco, as orelhas de subito entesadas. Voce esta mu ito espevitado, disse-lhe a velhaJoana. Aindanao é hora. Vejo que anda doido pra chegar logo em casa 28
thighs where the loose flesh trembled around the bone, Old Joanna washed her face. When the surface of the water stilled, the widening ripples losing themselves among the taiobeiras, she saw her face in reflection: a wrinkled, parchment face; it looked as if it were made of old leather which, with the passage of time, had shrunk to form all those folds. Evening was coming. Skillfully, still holding her skirt so as not to get the hem wet, the old woman began to wade along one of the spring's most shallow banks in the direction of the taiobeiras. She knew which ones were poisonous, and which could be cooked to make a stew like you make with cabbage greens. She chose the mild leaves, cutting their sappy stalks, and made them into a little bunch which her trembling hand grasped as she waded back across the spring. The wind sighed. All around the woods were quiet, but that calm didn't fool the old woman. A storm was coming. The only thing she didn't know was the exact time. Maybe in the wee hours of the night, maybe in the morning when the sun was trying to shine. It was something she felt in the air,' in the torpor of the woods, in the wind, in the smell. Iurupari, the demon of loneliness, whispered it to her, malicious. Hm-hm. As if she, after living a century—or almost— didn't know how to foretell windstorms and thundershowers. Peludinho, lying on some dry leaves, his tongue stuck out between pointy teeth, watched his mistress coming out of the spring; he stirred and the leaves snapped. He was a small dog with thick soft fur, the color ofcoffee with cream. Here and there on his stoma.ch you could see tufts of yellowish fur. Old Joanna came out of the spring, let down her skirt, and rubbed one foot with the other to loosen the mud from the spring's bottom that was stuck on the soles of her feet and between her toes. Peludinho stopped panting and stared at her, now attentive. Earlier, when he was still a puppy, hardly weaned, he'd been called Vulcan, probably because someone thought his fur looked like the color of lava running off a slope. The old woman got him some years later—she didn 't rightly rememberhow many— on one of her walks around the neighborhood, leaning on a cane which was nothing more than the sturdy branch of a peeled tree. She didn't like the name. Vulcan? What did it mean? The lady who owned the litter explained that she had named the dog after leafing through a thick Jayme de Seguier dictionary with colored pictures. The old woman let out a short, thick burst of laughter, her favorite way of ending inexplicable conversations, and petted the dog, who lost no time in nestling in her lap, his nose pressing her thin, caved-in belly. Later, weeks afterward, a girl from the area who was going to the country school and learning to read from the Felisberto do Carvalho books, explained to her that Vulcan was a mountain that let forth smoke, fire and venom. Venom? Cruz-credo. Venom, sia Joanna, is the same as poison. Cursed be the devil. Well, from now on he'll be Peludinho. Come here, boy; jump up here in your old mommy's lap, my love. Peludinho got to his feet, skittish, his ears suddenly pricked. You're too anxious, Old Joanna told him. It's not time yet. I see you're dying to get home to your piece of meat. You greedy thing, you. Ah, ah, ah. The woods seemed petrified; the slowly setting sun peeked uncertainly through openings between the trees. The old woman filled half an old tin can with spring water, arranged a ring of cloth on the crown of her head, and raised the weight with difficulty. The can balanced on her head, the water BFtAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
e corner urn naco de came. Meu guloso, ah, ah, ah. Os matos pareciam petrificados, o sol de crepUsculo vagaroso espiava incerto pelas aberturas nas arvores. A velha encheu meia lata de flandres corn agua da fonte, ajeitou no cocoruto a rodilha de pano e levantou o peso corn dificuldade. A lata equilibrou-se na cabeca, a agua a bater de leve nas bordas. Gemendo baixo, porque estava muito velha e cheia de macacoas, ela pegou no bordao encostado a urn toco e comecou a subir o declive. Peludinho deixou-se ficar para tras, como se resolvido a dar vantagem a dona, certo de alcanca-la, passar pelo vulto encolhido e esperar, na soleira da porta, que elaaparecesse afinal no terreiro e arriasse a lata de agua no batente, para somente entao abrir a porta da choupana e cuidar do de-comer dos dois. 0 cao era boa companhia no ermo. Que seria de mim sem o meu Peludinho?, pensou a velha enquanto arrastava os pés ladeira acima. Uma vez, antes de ter Peludinho, havia descido a ladeira para colher taiobas, ou apanhar cascas de cedro, pedacos de cipi5, trevos e manjericao, para urn banho-de-cheiro (já nao lembrava mais se uma, se outra coisa) que the haviam encomendado. Teve a infelicidade de ser enganadapela caapora, que vadiava pelos matos sob a forma de urn menino arruivado, corn os pes para tras (calcanhar no lugar dos dedos), todo peludo e sem penduricalho no lugar do sexo. Perdido o caminho, a velha se descobriu em lugar estranho. Nunca que houvesse passado por au. Aquelas arvores, aquele mato, aquele silencio pesado que de to silencioso doia no ouvido, ela no os conhecia. Sentou-se numa raiz e balbuciou uma reza. Desgracadamente no levara pedabo de fumo pra oferecer ao genio travesso dos ermos e das gerais, suplicando-lhe em troca que desfizesse o encanto e lhe mostrasse o caminho certo. A noite desceu, cobras desenroscaram-se e se puseram a deslizar no rumo do brejo, procura de sapos, guaxinins e outros bichos noturnos acenderam olhos amarelados nas trevas. 0 boitata piscou na parte mais baixa do brejo. Cruz-credo. Mas o boitata era genio born, protegia os matos e os campos contra incendios. A velha tinha receio major de viventes desconhecidos, pegajosos, traicoeiros, que se arrastam sem fazer ruido e picam, ou entao saltam e cravam unhas recurvas na came dos mortals. A velha Joana cansou-se de esperar urn milagre e adormeceu. Acordou quando a noite já ia alta, ja se enchia do palor da madrugada, e viu no ceu urn desfile de astros, estrelas de grande luminosidade, uma luz forte de cegar a vista, cometas de longa e esfiapada cabeleira. No dia seguinte apareceu mais velha e mais encarquilhada. 0 vestido de chita varria o chao, o rosto enrugava-se como papel bem amassado ou couro ressequido, as maos nao paravam de tremer, o corpo magro dobrado em dois na cintura, a bengala que tinha mais olhos do que a dona—bengala sabia que evitava os acidentes do caminho, os tocos e buracos perigosos. E narrou sua aventura, corn especial destaque para a luminosidade no ceu noturno, astros, estrelas e cometas em procissao de gala, abrindo clareiras imensas no breu da noite. Distribuia bencaos a meninos e homens feitos. A velhice secular conferia-lhe o privilegio da autoridade. Morando em choupana coberta de palmas de catule, em terreno cedido pelo senhor Pedro, nao era vivente de ficar em casa trancada corn o seu cachorro, criando bolor. Mal o dia se inaugurava, a velha Joana, que acordava cedo, ate mesmo antes das ayes se sacudirem no poleiro e esvoacar para o chao, BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
lightly slapping t e sides until it suddenly stilled. Groaning slightly, because s e was old and full of aches, she took her cane from the stump wh re it was leaning and began to go up the slope. Peludinho let hi self fall behind as if he'd decided to let his mistress get a head start, certain that he would overtake and pass her shrunken sh e and then wait on the doorsill until she appeared at last i the yard and lowered the can of water onto the doorpost to, o ly then, open the shack's door and take care of supper for the both. The dog was g od company in the wilderness. Where would I be without Pelud'nho?, the old woman thought as she dragged her feet up the hill. Once, before she had Peludinho, she had gone down the hill to c t taiobas or else gather cedar bark, pieces of vine, clover and basil for a herb bath that someone had recommended (she didn't remember any more if it was the one thing or the other). She had had the bad luck to be tricked by the caapora, who w dered around in the woods in the form of a red-haired boy w th backwards feet (his heels where his toes should be), all ha ry and without anything where his sex organ should be. Losin her way, the old woman found herself in an unfamiliar place. ever before had she been there. Those trees, those woods, tha heavy silence, so silent it hurt her ears—she didn't recognize hem at all. She sat down on a root and stammered a prayer. nfortunately she hadn't brought a piece of rolled tobacco to ffer the naughty demon of the wilderness and the trackless fore t, begging him in return to undo the enchantment and show h r the way home. Night fell; snakes untwined themselves and s ipped along towards the marsh, hunting for frogs; raccoons d other nocturnal animals lit yellowish eyes in the darkness. he boitata winked in the lowest part of the marsh. Cruz-cre o. But the boitata was a good demon; he protected the woods and fields against fires. The old woman was more afraid ofu own living things, sticky, treacherous, which creep noiselessl and sting, or else jump and dig their curved claws into the fl sh of mortals. Old Joanna got worn out waiting for a miracle, nd fell asleep. She woke up quite late at night; the pallor of earl morning was already spreading; and she saw in the sky a parade of heavenly bodies, stars of great brilliance, a blindingly strong light, comets with long raveled hair. The next day she appeared older and more wrinkled. Her calico dress swept the ground her face wrinkled like crumpled paper or dried leather, her hand trembled continuously, her thin body bent in two at the waist, her cane had sharper eyes than its owner— wise cane, which avoided accidents along the way, stumps and dangerous holes. And she retold her adventure, with special emphasis on the luminosity of the nocturnal sky, heavenly bodies, stars and comets in gala procession, opening huge clearings in the pitch of the night. She gave out blessings to all—from boys to grown men. Secular old age gave her the privilege of aut ority. Living in a shack thatched with catuM palms, on land ranted her by Senhor Pedro, she hadn't lived this long just to tay at home cooped up with her dog, moldering. Hardly had he day dawned before Joanna—who woke up early, even bef, e the birds stirred themselves on the roost and ii
29
engolia o quebra-jejum, descia a ladeira da pastagem, introduzia o corpo esguio entre o vao da porteira--e la se iapela valeta da estrada de rodagem, onde os automOveis nao podiam pega-la desprevenida por causa da meia surdez. 0 cao, depois que ela passou a ter o cao, trotava rente aos calcanhares, raras vezes adiantando-se em incursoes solitarias. Ela era a major faladeira das redondezas. Voltava na boca da noite, dos lados do Ribeirao dos Cachorros, da fazenda dos herdeiros, da Baixa-Grande, da Sapucaia, de outros lugares e propriedades que os vales sucessivos ocultavam. Trazia alem da mochila de carne-seca, acUcar, farinha, feijao e querosene, muitas novidades, noticias frescas e saborosas que repassava naponta da lingua. Pagava as esmolas com noticiarios minuciosos da vida alheia. Antes de subir para a choupana, demorava-se na casa-grande do Senhor Pedro, no meio da pastagem de grama rala, sentada no alpendre, a passar os fuxicos para a comadre Maria, que raramente saia dos seus afazeres domesticos para uma visita a parentes e amigos. Conversavam horas esquecidas. Noite fechada, a velha Joana erguia-se corn uma praga, porque sentia uma dor fina no quadril. Chamava Peludinho e subia o resto da ladeira. 0 fifo tremia-lhe na mao, parecia fogo-fatuo. Pedia, nesses momentos, a protecao divina (valha-me o senhor sao Bento!), porque tinha medo de cobras, principalmente da chamada espia-caminho ou da outra que costumava se enrodilhar na beira das veredas para soltar o bote sobre os candeeiros, por isso chamada apaga-candeia. A velha Joana entra no terreiro varrido, encosta o bordao na porta, atira os feixes de taiobas ao chao e desce a lata. Depois de retirar a rodilha de pano encardido, coca o alto da cabeca para reativar a circulacao. 0 sangue volta a banhar o que lhe parecia a superficie do couro cabeludo, deixando uma sensacao gostosa de formigamento. Lembra-se entao que seu homem, o finado Joao Gomes, corn quem vivera amigada muitos anos, sem filhos, tinha o habit° de cocarlhe a cabeca, de fingir que procuravapiolhos e lendeas e que os esmagava corn a unha grossa do dedo polegar. Joao Gomes, morto a facadas num forrobodo, num sabado de Aleluia, dizem que numa cena de chime. Vai ver tudo isso foi mentira. Joao Gomes era homem born, festeiro porem de tino, o julzo sempre bem assentado. Por onde andaria o espirito de Joao Gomes corn o seu jeito ora de indio dissimulado, ora de caboclo esperto? Para a velha Joana, ele, que nunca fizera mat a ninguem (pelo menos, mal de caso pensado, de prevencao), estava na Terra Sem Maldade, a terra de Mairata. No seu pensamento eta via aquela terra como uma planicie vasta no ceu, alem das nuvens, uma planicie coberta de fibres. Na aldeia toda de casas como a sua, feitas de varais e barro e cobertas de palmas de catule, os que partiram deste mundo vivem muitos felizes. Quando ficam velhos demais eles remocam, se transformam em meninos. Endo é preciso trabalhar corn a foice, corn a enxada, corn o machado pra lavrar a terra e da terra tirar sustento, 30
flew down to the ground—swallowed her breakfast, went down the other side of the hill, slipped her slim body through the opening of the gate, and went along there in the ditch of the highway, where the cars couldn't catch her unawares (because of her halfdeafness). The dog, after she came to have a dog, trotted close at her heels, only rarely going off on his own errands. She was the biggest gossip around. She came back at nightfall from the banks of Dog Stream, from the inherited plantation, from Baixa-Grande, from Sapucaia, from the other places and properties which the successive valleys hid. She brought—besides her knapsack of dried meat, sugar, flour, beans and kerosene—much news, fresh and juicy stories, which set tongues to wagging. She repaid their charity with a detailed news service about others' lives. Before going up to the shack she loitered for a while at Senhor Pedro's big house, in the middle of a field of sparse grass, sitting on the porch, telling all the gossip to Comadre Maria, who rarely left her domestic chores to visit friends or relatives. They talked for endless hours. After dark, Old Joanna rose with a curse, because of a pain in her hip, called Peludinho and went the rest of the way up the hill. The small lantern trembled in her hand like foxfire. At times like that she asked for divine protection (Bless me, Lord Saint Benedictine) because she was afraid of snakes, mainly the kind called path-finder, or the other kind which coiled itself at the edge of the footpath to strike toward the lamp, and therefore was called lantern-dimmer. Old Joanna entered the swept yard, leaned her cane against the door, threw the bunch of taiobas on the ground and lowered the water-can. After taking off the coil of soiled cloth, she rubbed the top of her head to revive the circulation. The blood started to flow again below what felt to her like a surface of hairy leather, bringing a nice antlike sensation. She remembered then that her man, the late Joao Gomes, with whom she had shacked up for many years without children, had had the habit of rubbing her head, pretending to look for lice and nits which he crushed with his thick thumbnail. Joao Gomes: stabbed to death at a wild party one Holy Saturday, out of jealousy, they said. Maybe it was all a lie. Joao Gomes was a good man, a party lover but with good judgment; his common sense always foremost. He who sometimes acted like a furtive Indian, sometimes like a clever halfbreed—where might his spirit be wandering now? For Old Joanna, he, who never did anyone wrong (or at least, not on purpose), was in the Land Without Evil, the land of Mairata. In her mind she saw that land like a vast plateau in the sky, above the clouds— a flower-covered plateau. In the village, all the houses were like hers, made of sticks and mud, and roofed with catule palms; those who depart from this world live really happily. When they get too old they revert to youth, turn back into children. And you don't have to toil with scythes, with hoes, with axes to work the land and pull your living from the land, because in the Land Without Evil plants grow naturally, harvests are always plentiful, no one ("goes hungry. Old Joanna unbolted the door of her shack, filled the clay pitcher in the kitchen and waited for night to fall. Sitting in the yard, on the rounded stone, which served as her front step by the door, she set herself to pondering. The next day, after the rainstorm (since she was sure it was going to rain cats and dogs; she only didn't know the exact time when St. Peter would tear open the belly of the clouds), she intended to go around the neighborBRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
porque na Terra Sem Maldade as plantas crescem naturalmente, as colheitas sao sempre fartas, ninguem passa fome. A velha Joana destranca a porta da choupana, enche o pote de barro na cozinha e espera que anoiteca de vez. Sentada no terreiro, na pedra rolica que serve de degrau junto a porta, ela se prie a matutar. No dia seguinte, depois do aguaceiro (porque tern certeza que vai chover grosso, so nao sabendo a hora exata em que Sao Pedro deve rasgar o bojo das nuvens), tenciona sair, pegar na vizinhanca a sua cuia de farinha, o seu pedaco de jaba, o seu meio litro de querosene, a sua coite de arroz. Ate o fim da semana tem muito o que fazer. Urn homem que se sentia fraco do peito pediu a bencao, ao se encontrarem num caminho deserto, e uma infusao de folhas de embauba, para verse curava a tisica. A senhora Madalena, mulher fina da cidade que passava uma temporada nos matos, na epoca da colheita do cacau, queria (e a velha Joana soltou sua risada curta e grossa) que ela lhe levasse urn copo de garapa azedada no sereno, que era pra se livrar de urn incomodo. Teria, ademais, de benzer urn menino, no Ribeirao dos Cachorros, corn urn raminho de arruda ou alecrim. Se nao achasse estas plantas, alfazema tambem prestava. Em seu pensamento, sentada napedra, corn a saia de chita a cobrirlhe os pes, a velha Joana regaos versos contra quebranto e dá, na imaginacao, os passes corn o ramo de alecrim cheiroso: Em nome da Virgem Quebranto, mau-olhado, Sal-te daqui, Que este menino Nilo é para Ah, tambem precisa de manaca para moer bem e ensinar Joao Preto a tomar o banho-de-cheiro. Ele se queixa da falta de sorte, os peixes nao mordem o anzol nos ribeirOes, em tardes de sabado e de domingo, e a mao erra o tiro nas cacadas as perdizes, nhambus, teiiis e outros bichos de penas e de escamas, da terra e das aguas e dos ares. Urn bando de anunsnegro-azulados passa por sobre o terreiro, por cima da choupana, e desaparece no rumo da pastagem. A velha Joana estremece. Cruz-credo. Arreda, demonio. Vai-te pras profundas do inferno, Belzebu. Nao venhas atentar urn cristao que vive no seu canto sem causar mal a ninguem. Os olhos da velha turvam-se. Sem saber bem porque, o bolo na garganta rompe-se. As lagrimas deslizam diretas pelo rosto. Ficam suspensas entre as rugas, de modo que a velha tern as faces escuras ornadas de gotas de orvalho. De seus olhos feios, apertados e foscos, manam gotas cristalinas. Nesses momentos de emocao é melhor fazer alguma coisa, ocupar o corpo pra distrair o espirito. Pensa em varrer a choupana corn a vassoura de ervas agora já meio secas, mas se lembra que isso dá azar, a sorte poder ser varrida porta a fora, abandonar a casa pra sempre. E ela precisa ter cuidado para, ao passar da sala para a cozinha, nao desmanchar a teia de aranha. Levanta-se dapedra sentindo as pernas pesadas e dores no espinhaco. Vai apanhar aguae resolve dar de beber as flores. Cuida das fibres do seu pequeno jardim corn muito desvelo: os chapeus-de-couro, as onze-horas que trepavam nas paredes envaradas e, ao abrirem-se, mostram-lhe estar perto o meio-dia, os bogaris, os cravos, as alias e margaridas recebem sua raga° de agua quase todos os dias, ao amanhecer e ao anoitecer. Cultiva tambem pes de fedegoso, de mastruz e de BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
hood And get her gourd of flour, her piece of dried meal her half-liter of kerosene, her porringer of rice. Before the weekend she had lots to do. A man who as feeling weak in the chest had asked for herb essing, when they'd met on a deserted path, and r a drink ofembariba leaves, to see if it would help is consumption. Lady Magdalena, a gentlewo an from the city who was spending some time in th country at cocoa harvest time, wanted (and here Old Joanna let out her short thick burst of laug ter) to be brought a glas- of sour garapa in the en air, which was to help her get rid of a small indi position. Besides this, Old Joanna had to bless a litt e boy over by Dog Stream with a switch of rue or r semary. If she couldn't find those plants, lavend r would do just as well. In her mind, seated on the tone, with her calico skirt covering her feet, Old oanna recited the verses of prote cti on against the vi! Eye and, in her imagination, slowly waved the witch of fragrant rosemary: n the name of the Virgin, vii Eye, bewitcher, egone from here; or this little boy s not for you. Oh, she also needed some manacato crush well an teach Joao Preto to make a herb bath. He was co plaining of bad luck: the fish didn't bite his ho ik in the streams on Saturday and Sunday afterno ins, and he missed his aim while hunting partri• ges, nhambus, lizards and other legged, feather,. and scaled animals of the earth and the waters an the air. A flock of blue-black anuns passed above the ya d, over the shack, and disappeared towards the pa ture. Old Joanna started. Cruz-credo. Begone, de il! Back to the depths of hell, Beelzebub. Don't co e around trying a Christian who lives in her o n corner without causing harm to anyone. The old woman's eyes grew cloudy. Without ite knowing why, she felt a lump rise in her th oat. The tears didn't slip right down her face. ey stayed hung between the creases, so that the ol woman's dark cheeks were adorned with dewps. From her ugly, narrow, lusterless eyes oozed stalline drops. At times of emotion like this it's better to do mething, occupy the body to distract the spirit. e thought about sweeping the shack with the oom of half-dry herbs, but she remembered that at was bad luck; good fortune might be swept out e door, might leave the house forever. And she d to be careful, going from the front room to the k tchen, not to tear the spider web. She got up from t e stone, her feet feeling heavy, pains in her spine. e went to get water, and decided to give some ti the flowers to drink. She cared for the flowers her little garden with much diligence: the thistles, t e sunflowers which climbed the woven twig 31
vassourinhas para suas aplicacoes medicinais. 0 alecrim, born prabenzer feridas que nao fecham ou pra espantar o mau-olhado, tinha morrido e ela precisa trazer outra muda. Molha as plantas corn maos tremulas, !nabs que custam a segurar os objetos— lembranca de dias frios, ela coberta de trapos a tiritar sobre uma cama dura de varas. Agora, felizmente, tern Peludinho. Riem-se dela pelas costas. Dizem que o cachorro dorme na sua cania, agasalhado entre os peitos murchos, duas pelaricas que batem na barriga tambem engelhada. Dizem que ela se priva de comida pra alimentar o cao a todo instante. As vezes carregao nos bracos que 6 pra Peludinho nao se cansar nao ferir as patas nos pedregulhos. Conversam a noite, a beira do fogo, quando o sono tarda, quando Acutipuru nab pee nas palpebras aquele peso anunciador de uma travessia ate o despontar de outra aurora. E nesses instantes ela chama Peludinho de seu filho e se refere a si mesma como a mamae velha. A noite cai como desce uma mortalha: leve, tenue e no entanto definitiva. A velha Joana entra, passa a taramela na porta e acende o candeeiro. Sua casa é um mindsculo ponto de luz na treva do mundo. Peludinho deita-se no char) de terra batida, o focinho descansando entre as patas que ele lambe de vez em quando corn alguns ganidos. A velha ajeita achas entre tres pedras rolicas que sustentam a frigideira, a cacaro la ou a panela de barro, derrama querosene sobre alguns gravetos e ateia o fogo. Sopra pra avivar o fogo. A chama passa a lenha corn facilidade. Frita came, requenta o feijao e prepara primeiro o prato fundo de Peludinho. Tern o cuidado de desfiar a carne-seca e misturar bem a farinha feijao. 0 co espera a comida de pe, junto a saia da velha, a ganir. Eta p6e o prato no chao. Coma, meu filho. Esta gostoso. De tanto olhar o cao a corner, esquece-se que tambem tern fome e que o feijao e a carne esfriarn. Uma ave grita em cima da choupana. Parece pousada na cumeeira, la onde as folhas da palmeira juntavam-se pelos tabs. Arreda, rasgamortalha, resmunga a velha metendo a colher no prato e formando urn bolo, corn ajuda da polpa do polegar, que leva a boca e babuja porque os dentes rap passam de cacos enegrecidos. 0 vento entra agora na casa pelas frinchas das portas e janelas, pelos buracos nas paredes. A velha Joana sente muito frio. Lava os dois pratos, deixa em cima do foga() e resolve transportar o fogo para o meio da cozinha. Primeiro, separa os ticOes fumegantes, depois carrega as tres pedras envolvidas num pano sujo. Enfia os ticOes corn cuidado entre as pedras, aproxima as pontas, sopra—e o fogo pega- logo. A lenha se poe a crepitar, soltando fagulhas. Lenha boa, lenha seca, vinhatico. Fagulhas sobem ao encontro do teto de colmo, apagam-se entre as laminas ressequidas do catule. Quando eu morrer, diz a velha ao cachorro atento, nao sei o que sera de voce. Eu sinto muito, Peludinho, mas urn dia dessas bato mesmo a cacoleta e me levam estirada numa rede pro cemiterio de Ferradas. Nao gostam de voce, pensam que nao sei, pensam que nao vejo, que nao escuto? Dizem que voce era murk), mas comigo pegoutodas as minhas manias, virou cachorro bravo. Late pra todo mundo, mesmo pra gente conhecida e de respeito, nao aceita festas, alisamentos ou bater de dedos. Murcha logo as orelhas, a cauda se encolhe enrtre 32
walls of her shack and opened to show when it was nearly noontime, the bugaris, the carnations, the dahlias and daisies— all received their ration of water almost every day, morning and evening. She also grew foul-smelling heliotrope, mastruz and broomweed plants, for her medicinal purposes. The rosemary, good for blessing wounds which wouldn't heal and for scaring away the Evil Eye, had died and she'd have to get another seedling. She wet the plants with trembling hands, hands which were hardly able to hold things; a reminder of cold days, her body covered with rags, shivering on a hard bed of branches. Now, fortunately, she had Peludinho. They laughed at her behind her back. They said the dog slept in her bed, ' snuggled up between her shriveled breasts—two loose folds of skin which flapped against her just-as-withered belly. They said she went hungry in order to feed the dog without fail. Sometimes she carried Peludinho in her arms so he wouldn't get too tired or hurt his feet on the stones. They talked at night, beside the fire, when sleep wouldn't come, while Acutipuru hadn't yet weighed down their eyelids with that heaviness, sign of the airy voyage until the break of another dawn. And at such times she called Peludinho her son and referred to herself as his old mommy. Night fell like a descending shroud: light and thin, but all the same definitive. Old Joanna went in, latched the door and lit the lantern. Her house was a miniscule point of light in the darkness of the world. Peludinho lay down on the floor of beaten earth, his nose resting between his paws, which he licked now and again. The old woman set some sticks ofwood between three rounded stones which supported her skillet, saucepan or clay pot, poured kerosene on some wood chips, and lit the fire. She blew to get it started. The flame easily passed to the wood. She fried meat, heated up some beans and prepared Peludinho' s deep dish first. With care she tore the dried meat into bits and mixed the flour and beans well. The dog stood waiting for his food, whining. She put the dish on the floor. Eat, my son. It's good. Watching the dog eating, she forgets she was hungry, too, and the beans and meat were getting cold. A bird screamed above the shack. It sounded like it was roosting on the ridgepole;where the palm leaves came together, stalk to stalk. Begone, shroudtearer, muttered the old woman, putting her spoon in the dish and making a ball with the aid of her thumb, which she raised to her mouth and sucked, since her teeth were just blackened chips. The wind now entered the house through the cracks in the doors and windows, through the holes in the walls. Old Joanna felt very cold. She washed the two dishes, left them on top of the stove (a platform of baked clay supported on four props) and decided to move the fire to the middle of the kitchen. First she separated the smoking embers, then carried the three stones, wrapped in an old cloth. She wove the embers carefully among the stones, placing them end to end; she blew and the fire soon caught. The wood began to crackle, shooting out sparks. Good wood, dry wood, vinhatico. Sparks rose to meet the thatched roof, died among the dried palm leaves. When I die, the old woman said to the dog, I don't know what will become of you. Sorry, Peludinho, but one of these days I'll kick the bucket and they'll carry me stretched out on a hammock to Ferradas cemetery. They don't like you, they think I don't know it; do they think I don't see or hear? They say you used to be good-tempered, but here with me you picked up all my ways and turned wild. You bark at everyone, even people we know; you won't stand for partying, sweet words or petting. Your ears soon droop, your tail shrinks between your legs, your hair all stands on end BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
i I like a porcupine' s And your bark, your fine long bark, my son, gets on the nerves of certain people who then want to throw rocks at you and other such bad things. With me, with your old mommy, you're 4 little lamb; I'd like to see another doggie so sweet and dear. Yes, Peludinho, you're going to suffer without your old lady. The vinhciticoI I:urned, snapping. Sparks rose toward the low roof; the thatchin was already twisting. Her head sunk on her chest, Old Joanna fell into a doze. A wide smile showed the stubs of teeth in her withered gums. Now she was walking slowly on a very wide, very green prairie, a flat prairie. A man was coming towards her IlVith bare, bold chest, his black hair cropped halfway down hiS neck and above his eyes, a loincloth of colored feathers around his narrow hips. The firm steps of his muscular legs made the ground shake. The man gripped a sacrificial club, and his face was stern. He came near the old woman and bent over. Blessing, sia Joanna. Our Lord be your guide, Mairata. For it wa really Mairata, the ancestral giant. Near them, lighting the sceqe, was the boilata who protected the fields against fire. The boitata shot forth flames from time to time, first winking like a light in the darkness of the night, then exhaling fire into the win like the dragon St. George tamed with his sword. But the rairie continued green, green and long and endless, and Ma rata laughed, and Mairata took Old Joanna's cane and threw it far away like a useless thing, and Old Joanna now walked easier, lighter, as if she were stepping on clouds, on puffs of cotton in space, and Mairata followed at her side, both of them enveloped by the huge boitata, by the boitatci's blaze in the verdant prairie. Two birds crossed the dark sky in low flight. From the middle ofthe yard, lighted by the flames, Peludinho saw the birds pass q ickly, their wings beating. They pulled Tupa's canoe, which b ought thunder resounding behind itself and made lightning arve pale fissures in the sky. Tupa sailed from east to west to eet his lover Nandecy, for whom he was burning with desire. The storm c me crashing down. Peludinho s ught shelter in the woods. 1
as pernas, o pelo se erica todo como o de urn ourico-cacheiro. E o latido, o seu latido fino e prolongado, meu filho, mexe corn os nervos de certas pessoas que tern vontade entao de atirar pedra em voce, de praticarmaldade. Comigo, corn a sua velha mamae, voce é um cordeirinho, tao meigo e atencioso eu estou pra ver outro. E, Peludinho, voce vai sofrer sem a sua velha, é penoso viver. 0 vinhatico queima estalando. Faiscas sobem para o teto baixo, a palha já se retorce. Cabeca tombada no peito, a velha Joana cai na modorra. Urn sorriso largo mostra os cacos dos dentes nas gengivas murchas. Agora ela anda devagar por uma campina plana. Urn homem avanca na sua direcao corn o peito nu e arrojado, o cabelo negro tosado no meio do pescoco e acima dos olhos, uma tanga de penas coloridas nos quadris estreitos. As passadas firmas das pernas musculosas fazem o chao estrondar. 0 homem empunha um tacape e tern o rosto severo. Chega perto da velha e se curva. A back', sinha Joana. Nosso Senhor seja o teu guia, Mairata. Porque é mesmo Mairata, o gigante ancestral. Perto deles, iluminando a cena, o boitata que protege a campina contra incendios. 0 boitata solta labaredas a intervalos, primeiro piscando como uma luj na escuridao da noite, depois deitando fogo pelas yentas como o dragao que Sao Jorge subjuga corn a espada. Mas a campina continua verde, verde e longa e sem fim, e Mairata ri agora, e Mairata toma o bordao da velha Joana e atira-o longe como coisa sem prestimo, e a velha Joana anda agora mais ligeira, mais leve, como se pisasse em nuvem, em floco de algodao no espaco, e Mairata segue ao seu lado, os dois envolvidos pelo boitata imenso, pela fogueira do boitata na campina verdejante. Duas ayes cruzam o ceu negro em voo baixo. No meio do terreiro iluminado pelas chamas, Peludinho, ve as ayes passarem rapidas, a golpes de asas. Puxam a canoa de Tupa, que atras de si faz o trovao ribombar e o relampago cavar no ceu fissuras esbranquicadas. Tupa navega do Leste para Oeste, ao encontro de sua amada Nandecy, por quern arde de desejo. A tempestade desaba. Peludinho busca refftgio na mata. Hello Polvora is a well-known Brazilian writer who lives in Bahia. He is the author of Os Galos da Aurora, 0 Grito da Perdiz and 0 Rei dos Suru bins, among other books. He can be reached at hpolvora@uol.com.br and powder@e-net.com.br
Glossary:
Taiobeira: bushy tropical herb with pointed leaves. Peludinho: "hairy little thing". Cruz-credo: exclamation of horror and aversion. Sici: title of respect originally given by slaves to their mistress. Taiobas: leaves of the taiobeiras. Caapora: man of the woods in Indian legend, backwoods spirit. Boitata: fire-throwing spirit in the shape of a huge bull with reddish eyes. Comadre: name by which the mother and godmother of a person call each ot er. Mairata: head of the pantheon in Tupi Indian theology, often equated with C rist. Garapa: a drink made from sugarcane juice. Manaca: a medicinal shrub. Nhambu: a tailless tropical bird. Anum or anu: a tropical bird with a long dropping tail and 4-toed feet, two es pointing forwards and two backwards. Mastruz: a plant of the nasturtium family with medicinal properties. Acutipuru: Indian spirit of sleep; also a kind of arboreal forest rodent with a airy tail. Shroud-tearer: common name for the owl. Vinhatico: a kind of tree with excellent yellow wood. Tupi Indian designation for thunder, used by early Jesuit missionaries o signify God. BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
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the city. The sky can be beauNk ful and floodlights illuminate the big buildings like the municipal theatre and national library. Ballooning The most popular flight is the one between the Aut6dromo de Jacarepagua and Barra da Tijuca. The flights, in balloons which can hold four people, last about 30 minutes and climb between 150 to 1500 meters. Children must be over five. For details call (221-8441). Cycling Cycling is popular with Cariocas. There is a bike path around Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas, one in Barra da Tijuca, and one on the oceanfront from Ipanema to Leme. The ciclovia (bike path) is currently being extended into the city to Praca 15. If you have a bit of road sense and don't mind mixing it with the traffic, a bike is a fun Ilha do Paqueta way to get around the zona sul. On This island in the Baia Tuesday nights Riobikers take to the de Guanabara was once a streets. Riobikers started out as a group 'Urn, dois, fres, jar Four bounding very popular tourist spot of cyclists who enjoyed riding in a and is now frequented steps and we were flying. It's not the group. The idea caught on and now mostly by families from every Tuesday night, thousands of bikthe zona norte. There are free-fall sinking feeling you get from ers take to the road from Leblon to the no cars on the island, so Museu de Arte Moderna in Aterro do elevators, but a perfect calm. The only transport is by foot, biFlamengo. The streets are closed to cycle (there are literally movement, a soft wind caressing my other traffic after 9 pm and the bikers hundreds for rent) and move off at around 9.30 pm from horse-drawn carts. face. It seemed I was suspended Leblon. There's a certain dirty Clube Kraft Point (205-6155), between earth and sky. decadent charm to the organizes groups who want to do some colonial buildings, unasnight riding during the week. On weeksuming beaches and busiends they organize group trail-riding in nesses catering to local the Tijuca forest. As long as you have a tourism. Sadly, the bay is too polluted to safely swim in bike, you can join in. and the place gets very crowded. Golf Go to Paqueta for the boat ride through the bay and to Rio has two 18-hole golf courses close to the city: see Cariocas at play—especially during the Festa de Sao Roque, which is celebrated over five days in August. Gavea Golf Club (322-4141) at Estrada da Gavea 800, and Itanhanga Golf Club (429-2507) at Estrada da Barra Boats leave from near the Praca 15 de Novembro in 2005. The clubs welcome visitors from 7 am to sunset, but Centro. The regular ferry takes one hour and costs $0.50. The hydrofoil is worth taking, at least one way. It gets to the Gavea Golf Club only accepts visitors from the major the island in 25 minutes and costs $7. The ferry service hotels like the InterContinental (which is next door) and the Rio Sheraton. (231-0396) goes from 5.30 am to 10.30 pm, leaving every Green fees are about $70 a round, plus club hire of two to three hours. The hydrofoil leaves every hour on the $15. On weekends, you need to be invited by a member. hour from Rio (8 am to 5 pm) and returns every hour from A cheaper option is Golden Green (433-3950), which Paqueta (8 am to 5.30 pm). has six tricky par-three holes. It's open daily from 7 am Joquei Clube There are lots to see at the racetrack. The stadium, to 6 pm. Cost is $18 for six holes and $28 for 12 holes. which seats 35,000, is on the Gavea side of the Lagoa Club and cart rental are an extra $ 10. It's near Barra beach at Posto 7. Rodrigo de Freitas at Praca Santos Dumont 31 (take any Helicopter Flights of the buses that go to Jardim Botanico). It's a beautiful Joy flights over the city can be arranged by Helisight horseracing track with a great view of the mountains and Corcovado, and it costs only a few cents to enter. It's (511-2141; 259-6995 on weekends). They have three rarely crowded and the fans are great to watch—it's a helipads at strategic, scenic locations: Mirante Dona Marta, just below Cristo Redentor, at Lagoa Rodrigo de different slice of Rio life. Racing usually takes place every Saturday and Sunday afternoon, and Monday and Freitas and from Morro da Urca, the first cable-car stop as you go up to the Sugarloaf Helisight has 10 different Thursday night. flights to choose from. Five-minute flights cost $30 and City Sunset a 30-minute flight costs $500 for four people. These Sunset is a nice time to be around the central plaza in flights are a definite 'video opportunity'. 34
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
c
Surfing In Rio city, surfing is very popular, with the locals ripping the fast, hollow beach breaks. When the surf is good, it gets crowded. Arpoador, between Copacabana and Ipanema, is where most surfers congregate, though there are some fun beach breaks further out in Barra, Grumari, Joa and Prainha. Boards can be rented in Rio, but they're so cheap that you'd be crazy not to buy one, especially if you've planned a surfing expedition down the coast. A brand-new board is a steal at $150 to $200, and we saw some decent second-hand ones for as little as $50, Galeria River (pronounced `heever'), at Rua Francisco Otaviano 67 in Arpoador, is an arcade full of surf shops. Loja three of Ocean has a reasonable selection. Sailing Out in Barra, you can get into sailing Hobie Cat 16s. Bix Sportsmix (439-4552) at Avenida Sernambetiba 3500, Bloco B, Apt 302, rents these catamarans for $40 for two hours, not including preparation time. It does include pick-up and drop-off at your hotel. A 10-hour course is $175. The instructors are highly experienced, and speak several languages, like English, Dutch, German and French. Hang-Gliding, Para-Gliding and Ultra-Leve If you weigh less than 80 kg (about 180 lb) and have $80 you can do the fantastic—hang-glide off the 510 meter Pedra Bonita on to Pepino beach in Sao Conrado. This is one of the giant granite slabs that towers above Rio. No experience is necessary. To arrange a double flight (voo duplo) go out to Pepino and the pilots will be waiting on the beach. We're told that the winds are very safe here and the pilots know what they are doing. Guest riders get their bodies put in a kind of pouch that is secured to the kite. Flight Information Most tandem pilots can mount a camera with flash, wide-angle lens, motor drive and a long cable release on a wing tip to take pictures of you in flight. If you want to take pictures yourself you must realize that take-off and landing pictures are impossible since you can't be encumbered with equipment. Your camera must fit into the Velcro pouch in the front of your flight suit. It's a good idea to have the camera strapped around your neck and a lens cover strapped to the lens or you will risk losing the equipment and beaning a Carioca on the head. Flights are usually extremely smooth so it's possible to take stable shots. Hang gliders themselves are dramatic shots, especially when taken from above. Know your exact weight in kg in advance. Ideally your pilot should be heavier than you. If you're heavier than the pilot, he or she will have to use a weight belt and switch to a larger glider. If you're over 80 kg you're out of luck. You don't need any experience or special training—anyone from seven to 70 years can do it. Cautious flights depend on atmospheric conditions. You can usually fly on all but three or four days per month, and conditions during winter are even better. For the experience of a lifetime, it's not that expensive: $80 for anywhere from 10 to 25 minutes of extreme pleasure. The price includes being picked up and dropped off at your hotel. If you fly early in the day, you have more flexibility with delays. The best way to arrange a flight is to go right to the far end of Pepino beach on Avenida Prefeito Mendes de Morais, where the fly-boys hang out at the V6o Livre club. One of the recommended flyers is Alonso Cunha, who can be reached on his beeper (266-4545, code 8LB). Ruy Marra is another excellent tandem-glider pilot and widely regarded as one of the best pilots in Rio. He runs Super
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
Fly Agency (322-2286) in Lagoa at Avenida EpitacN Pessoa 3624, room 201. (Ruy is also the person to see if you're interested in para-gliding.) Also recommended is Rejane Reis (322-6872). For more information call the Associacao Brasileira de Voo Livre (322-0266), which also offers classes. Ultra-leve (ultralight) flights, are more comfortable than hang-gliders, but you have to listen to the motor. The trips last around 30 minutes and leave from the Aeroclube do Jacarepagua. The Clube Esportivo de Ultra-leve (3428025) has some ling-range ultralights that can stay up for over two hours. flights cost around $20. Hiking & Climbing Excellent hiking is possible surprisingly close to the city. There are tbree national parks with trail systems in Rio state: Parque Nacional da Tijuca, Parque Nacional da Serra dos Orgaos and Parque Nacional do Itatiaia. Clubs For anyone interested in climbing and hiking, Rio's clubs are the best source of information as well as the best meeting place fbr like-minded people. The clubs meet regularly and welcome visitors. All of the following clubs are well organized and have bulletin boards listing excursions on the weekends: Centro Excui-sionista Brasileiro Avenida Almirante Barroso 2-8 Andar, Centro, Rio de Janeiro, RJ CEP 20031. CEB has a membership of 900, meets on Wednesday and Friday evenings and is geared toward trekking and day hikes. CEB also runs a small restaurant, which is open from 6 pm, Monday to Friday, where people meet informally to plan excursions. Centro Excursionista Rio de Janeiro Avenida Rio Branco 277/805, Centro, Rio de Janeiro, RJ CEP 20040. CERJ, with an active membership of 50, meets on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. CERJ offers the greatest diversity of activities ranging from hikes to technical climbing. Clube Excu sionista Carioca Rua Hilario de Gouveia 71/206, Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, RJ CEP 22040 (Marcelo Ramos (021) 227-8398). Meeting on We nesday and Friday evenings at 10.30 pm, this club speci lizes in difficult technical climbing. Tijuca The Parque Nacional da Tijuca is a 120-sq-km park with an excelle t trail system. It is also home to different species of bird and animals including iguanas and monkeys. The Alt da Boa Vista section of Tijuca forest, which is part o the national park, has several good day hikes. Maps of he forest are obtained at the small artisan shop just insid the park entrance, which is open from 7 am to 9 pm daily. To get there take bus No 221 from Praca 15 in the center to Praca Afonso Viseu in Alto da Boa Vista. Pao de Acucar On Pao de Acucar (396 meters), Rio's Sugar Loaf, there are 32 established climbing routes. Climbers are often seen scaling the western face below the cable cars. One of the best hikes is up the backside of Pao de Acucar. Besides the breathtaking view of the ocean below, one is also compensated by not having to pay for the cable-car ride. The hike takes 11/2 hours and doesn't require equipment or a lot Of climbing experience, but does have two 10 to 15-meter exposed parts that require agility and common sens . The hike b gins on the left-hand side of Praca General TibUrcio (the same praca where the cable cars are boarded), wh re a paved jogging track runs for 1200 meters along he base of Morro de Tijuca and Pao de AcUcar. At the end of the track pick up the trail on the other side of the cement tank in the tall grass. Follow this 35
t
St
ail (always taking the uphill forks) for 100 meters. At outcrop on the northern side, descend two more turns in the old foundations, some 30 meters above the water, the the road. At the second turn there is a cement railing, trail ascends steeply for 60 meters until leveling off on a behind which is a poorly maintained trail. narrow ridge. From the ridge, the broad eastern flank of Follow this trail as it hugs the base of the rock for 200 Pao de Act:war is seen. meters around to the eastern The trail to follow is face of the mountain. Don't get up the far left-hand discouraged by the tall grass Hang-Gliding over Rio side ridge. which obstructs the trail; just At the base of the The climb up to the take-off point was awesome. Pedra keep to the base of the rock. On Bonita looms over Sao Conrado's Pepino beach. The road rock the trail deviates the eastern face the start of the winds up through the lush green Tijuca forest. We were slightly to the right for climb is at the 20-meter crack waved on through the private entrance to the hang-gliding the next 40 meters in the whitened rock. From area and the engine whined as we climbed the extremely until coming to two there the climb is clearly steep hill. iron bolts on the When we reached the top, our pilot assembled the marked with well-placed bolts glider, untangled the cables, tightened the wing nuts and smooth exposed rock. to the top, just underneath the slipped elastic bands over the wing struts. Up close the This is the first exstatue of Christ. glider looked flimsy. We put on our flight suits and pracposed area, which, Tai Chi Chuan ticed a few take-off sprints near the platform, literally a while crossed easily Enthusiasts might like to five-meter-long runway of wooden boards inclined 15' without ropes requires downhill. We were 550 meters above sea level and a few km join in one of the daily sessions inland from the beach. If I were a rock and Rio were a agility and alertness. held at Praca Nossa Senhora da vacuum, it would take me over 10 seconds to kiss the dirt. There is nothing to Paz in Ipanema. There are sesI wore old sneakers for traction and two good-luck break a fall except the sions at sunrise and at 5 pm. charms to amuse the ambulance crew that I anticipated rocks in the ocean, 120 Tennis would be piecing through the tangled ball of crumpled meters below. metal, torn nylon and mangled flesh down below. The climate's not ideal for From the second With the glider resting at the top of the runway, we tennis, but if you fancy a game, clipped ourselves onto it and checked the balance of the bolt stay next to the you can book a court at the craft as we hung side by side. The pilot adjusted his weight rock slab for the folInterContinental (322-2200) or belt, all the straps, the Velcro leg cuffs and helmet and gave lowing six meters. In Sheraton (274-1122). Courts me very brief instructions: hold on to the cuff of his shorts, the gap between the are available to non-guests. Lob keep my hands to myself, resist the temptation to hold the first rock slab and the control bar or cables (this can throw the glider, so don't Tenis (205-9997) at Rua Stefan touch), and when he gave the count 'urn, dois, fres, jci!' , go next slab it is safer to Zweig 290 in Laranjeiras, rents very fast. step up on to the seccourts for $25 an hour and We checked the windsocks on either side of the platond rock slab rather opens until midnight. In Barra, form, the surface of the sea and the rippling of the leaves to than continuing along there are many tennis centers, ascertain the direction, speed and flow of the wind. A the exposed face. Ansmooth ,wind coming inland from a flat sea is best. 'Urn, including Akxe Sportside Club dois, tres, jar Four bounding steps and we were flying. It's other 20 meters higher (325-3232) at Avenida Profesnot the free-fall sinking feeling you get from elevators, but up there is a third iron sor Dulcidio Cardoso 100, a perfect calm. I closed my eyes and felt as it I was still—the bolt, which is a good Clube Canaveral (399-2192) at only movement, a soft wind caressing my face. Miracuplace to take in the Avenida das Americas 487 and lously, it seemed I was suspended between earth and sky. To view before tackling Rio Sport Center (325-6644) at our left was Rocinha, the most famous of the zona sul's favelas, to the right Pedra Bonita, and below us the fabulous the crux of the Avenida Ayrton Senna 2541. homes of Rio's rich and famous. We floated over skyscrapclimb—above the Walking & Jogging ers and Pepino beach, made a few lazy circles over the water clearly defined path. There are some good walkand before I knew it, it was time for the descent. Upon At the fourth bolt, the ing and jogging paths in the landing we stood upright, pointed the nose up, the glider hike becomes a climb zona sul. If you're staying in stalled and we touched down on the sand gentle as a feather. for the next 10 meters. In an emergency, like a sudden change in weather, a the Flamengo-Catete area, hang-glider pilot can fly down to the beach in less than 90 This section is best Flamengo Park has plenty of seconds. Pilots also carry a parachute, which is designed to climbed by finding the space and lots of workout stasupport the weight of two passengers and the glider itself, holds behind the rock tions. Around Lagoa Rodrigo which is supposed to fall first and cushion the blow. slabs and pulling de Freitas is 9.5 km of cycling, yourself up. After the Andrew Draffen jogging and walking track. At sixth and final bolt, the the Parque do Cantagalo there, climbing is over. Folyou can rent bicycles, tricycles low the well-defined path up 200 meters to the small or quadricycles. Along the seaside, from Leme to Barra children's park at the top. da Tijuca, there's a bike and footpath. On Sunday the Corcovado road itself is closed to traffic and is full of cyclists, Corcovado (710 meters) offers technically difficult joggers, rollerbladers and prams. climbs with fantastic views of Pao de Acficar and Lagoa Rodrigo de Freitas. Private guides and the clubs are the Excerpts from Brazil - A Travel Survival Kit best means for unraveling its many diverse routes. Well3rd edition, by Andrew Draffen, Chris McAsey, equipped and experienced climbers can easily climb its Leonardo Pinheiro,and Robyn Jones. eastern face on the route K-2 (rated 5.9). For more information The climb begins 200 meters below the summit. To call Lonely Planet: (800) 275-8555. get to the base of the climb, take the train to the top and Copyright 1996 Lonely Planet Publications. instead of ascending the stairs to the left, follow the road Used by permission. \ut of the parking lot for 15 minutes. After the first rocky 36
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
0 Estado de Minas
Relax! You already know Brazilian Maybe back home in the U.S. the big boss was rude, the office boy broke the Xerox machine, your check-up was a bust, or the babvsitter quit. But you're on vacation now, so it's time to release that stress. BENJAMIN GOOGINS
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
So you want to visit Brazil but you don't speak Portuguese. No worries, my friend. Your existing vocabulary will serve you well and ensure that all of your needs are met. Once you've arrived in Brazil you'll certainly be looking for something to eat. Your most convenient option would be to stop at a McDonald's and order a Big Mac and a milkshake followed by a sundae. But did you travel all this way to eat Mickey D's? If you're really craving fast food try Bob's, Habib's or call fo delivery from China in Box. On the street you'll find plen of vendors cooking up hotdogs and xburgers. (Why th x? In Portuguese the letter x is pronounced "sheesh." Cheeze Sheesh ... get it?) There are plenty of selfservice restaurant but if you're looking for something a little more diet maybe ou' d better stick to cream crackers and Coca light. While you're n Brazil you'll definitely want to do some shopping and th re's no better place than the Shopping. You've plenty to c oose from: Shopping Ibirapuera, Shopping Morumbi, Shopp. g Rio Off-Price, Barra Shopping, and the list goes on. Rest ssured that you'll be looked upon as very fashion once you uy your tennis at Puppy, baby look T-shirt at Tubby, and yo r jeans at Scrap. Those of you who prefer a look more clubbe be sure to check out Hot Buttered. You'll leave looking sex without a doubt. If it's electron s you need, check out a showroom. Finding a new mouse for our computer, a walkman to drown out the voice of your ers nal trainer, or a video (cassette recorder) to watch your favori e movies will be a cinch; just remember to purchase a rack t keep it all organized. Head downtown and you'll find lots o items for your kitchen. You may even be surprised with the design of furnishings for your living room. There is always a sale on sofas. Brazilians trea their businesses with respect as can be seen by the formality w th which they name them. Take for example Mr. Forno, Mr. Gato, and Mr. Informatica. Oh no, it's not pizza, it's Mr. Pizza to you, buddy! You'll find many shops while visiting Brazil as well. The most prolific are the sexshops but you'll also discover a petshop or two. While at the bookshop pick up the latest bestseller. It will probably be about some Oscar winning actor who turns out to be a serial killer and ends up dying from an overdose. What a pity. Here in Brazil, as in the rest of the world, there has been a boom in technology. Don't worry that you'll feel left out of the conversation. Si ply bring up your favorite site and you'll have plenty to tall about. Any type of new software you can download from ttie Internet is always a welcome topic. If you're a workahnlic please leave your laptop at home. If, however, you have the know-how to be a hacker, be sure to delete any incrim ating evidence from all of your e-mails. If you decide t bring the kids on your trip to Brazil they'll get along just fine swell. Brazil is in the highest world ranking for watersports. aybe your son or daughter will be the next to break a surf re ord. If they're into skate boarding they'll make plenty of ne friends. I've noticed that most of these kids not only break da ce well but are also covered with tattoos and piercings. Now th :t I think about it, maybe it would be better to just bring your hild's videogame along for company. Maybe back h me in the U.S. the big boss was rude, the office boy broke t e Xerox machine, your check-up was a bust, or the babysitter q it. But you're on vacation now, so it's time 37
to release that stress. The best way to do this is to enjoy the night or even take in a show. Before you do this though you'd better take a shower in the box and remove that excess hair with your Gillette. To shampoo your hair you should try Pom-pom but I wouldn't use Skin Pop to soap up with if I were you. I've never tried it but just the name gives me the creeps. Now that you're ready to go out you can take a van, hop in your pick-up, or ifyou're aplavboy you'llride in your limousine, wearing your smoking (tuxedo) of course. Heterosexual men will want to enjoy happy hour by having a cocktail at one of the many American Bars located throughout Brazil. (Just don't drink too much and blackout.) If you're lucky you'll meet a top model who won't mind if you're interested in more than her book. Homosexuals needn't fear. Say gay and you'll be directed to a club complete with a darkroom, stripper, and plenty of drag queens with whom you can share a drink. Your choice of bars is extensive. Check out Le Boy and Loch Ness if you want to party hard but if you're looking to relax you'll much prefer Blue Angel. Whether your taste in music runs towards Techno, Dance, Pop, or Rock I feel confident that you'll enjoy the sounds of U Can Dance, P.O. Box, and Fat Family. Their remixes are super. If you meet a lovely Brazilian and feel that an amorous relationship may result you'll be happy to know that there are many motels such as Lovers, Stop Time, and Vanity just a short distance away. One of the most interesting has to be
Sinless Hotel. Their motto: "Love is not a sin." If you prefer love on the go you can park in a Drive In. It will be cheaper than a hotel but don't expect a double-feature (unless you're feeling up to it of course.) You may even discover, as I have, that your name has another meaning. Benjamin in Brazil is what we Americans would call a three-prong plug adapter. Not so glamorous I know but luckily Brazilians often confuse my name with "beija mim" or "kiss me." Much more sheik. So friend, as I've mentioned, your existing vocabulary will enable you to acquire all of the necessities: food, clothing, transportation, entertainment, and even passionate shelter. You may need to get a move on though to utilize your new-found knowledge of the Brazilian language. On August 14th Jornal Nacional, one of the leading news programs here, announced that there is a puritanical movement to abolish the use of foreign words in signs and announcements. One governmental agency has already passed this initiative and set a possible fine at $2,200 for those businesses which don't comply. So, my friend, what are you waiting for? Come to Brazil and practice your English. Benjamin Googins is a 26-year-old American who is broadening his horizons in Rio de Janeiro. Please feel free to contact him at bengooginsAhotmail.com.
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Listenin to the Heart of the Jungle There would be the occasion scream from one of the girls wh saw a spider crawling up th outside of her mosquito screen the cursing of a guy who was trying to kill a mosquito that got inside his screen. Yes it was fun sleeping out in the middle of the Amazon jungle. PHIL SHIEL
My first sight of Brazil was of t Amazon jungle and its mighty river fro the cockpit of a Canadian Airlines Boei 767 flying at 33,000 feet. My brother law Stan was the pilot who had given an airline pass to use for the flight to S Paulo. This was my first trip to Sou America. I wondered why it had taken so long to eventually travel to this part the world. The trip would include six n countries that I would be traveling making a total of 48 that I would ha now visited. I had just returned fr India, Nepal and Laos only eight mon earlier. I thought I was ready for this tr I had studied Spanish for a couple months only to realize four weeks bef my trip that they spoke Portuguese Brazil. It could not be that much differ from Spanish, at least that was wh thought. Was I mistaken. My friend Carol had introduced m Isabel, a Brazilian from So Paulo was a student at her travel school in Diego where I lived. When she s BRA7_21- OCTOBER 2000
39
talking Portuguese I was completely lost. We arranged to meet again a few more times so I could learn some Portuguese. My next mistake was buying a Portuguese phrase book from Portugal instead of a Brazilian phrase book. She helped me change some of the words and phrases in the book because of the slight difference in the language. Since I would be arriving in Isabel's home city she was kind enough to give me the phone numbers of her friends in SAo Paulo. That definitely helped me once I got there. I was invited to sit up in the cockpit as we flew over the Amazon. The first thing I noticed was the smoke that we were flying through at such a high altitude. The jungle below was on fire. It was disheartening to see such a vast area of beautiful jungle being burned for mineral exploration, cattle grazing and agriculture. The controversy about the destruction of the Amazon was a concern in the United States where I lived and many other countries around the world but it was a problem that only Brazil would be able to resolve. Once I landed in Sao Paulo my trip was about to start. My eventual destination would be the Amazon, which I had now flown over but wanted to explore by boat and on foot. I planned on staying with Stan at the Paulista Wallstreet Hotel in the city, before moving to the Sampa hostel off Paulista Avenue. His flight crew stayed at the hotel for a few days on each trip before returning to Toronto. Since the crew was able to get off the plane first and clear customs they would wait for me at the crew bus. Unfortunately the airline lost my luggage so I was late getting to the crew bus. I apologized for being late and was about to tell them their lousy airline had lost my luggage then decided I was outnumbered by Canadian Airline employees and kept quiet. Luckily my luggage showed up a day later. I had been told of the fantastic hospitality the Brazilians give to guests of their country and found out how true this was after calling a few of Isabel's friends. Her friend Sandra picked me up at the hotel a couple of days later and drove me to the hostel where I would stay till I left for the northern part of Brazil. She spoke very good English and showed me around the city and introduced me to her many friends. Isabel flew down a week later and I also met her family. Once you meet one Brazilian you become a friend to everyone else's friends and family. They treated me like a king. I have never eaten such great food before in such large quantities. If you like meat and seafood Brazil is the place to go. I only planned on staying a few days in Sao Paulo but every time I tried to leave someone was inviting me to a party, barbeque or their beach house. The only problem that I encountered in Brazil was being pick pocketed the second day in Sao Paulo while walking along Paulista Avenue. Luckily the thief did not get anything but I saw three other robberies while in the city. Like most big cities around the world you have to be careful. Brazil is famous for its beaches and I planned to visit as many as I could. I ended up traveling along the coast visiting the beaches at Florianopolis, Santos, Guaruja, Rio de Janeiro. Salvador and Fortaleza. Brazil has by far the most beautiful girls in the world and most of them can be seen on the beaches. I still had to get to the Amazon and Manaus, a city of over 1,000,000 people in the middle of the Amazon jungle. I would have to take two long bus rides from Sao Paulo to Salvador then on to Fortaleza and two airplane flights to Brasilia then to Manaus. There are very few options available to reach Manaus. You ao
can travel up river by boat from Belem, which can take as long as eight days or you can fly, but most flights have to go through Brasilia to get there. From Fortaleza I had to fly south to Brasilia then back up north again to Manaus. Roads into the Amazon are few and many are impassable because of rain washing out the roadway at different times of the year. I was amazed to hear that few Brazilians have ever been to the
Amazon but considering how far and inaccessible it is to get to I can see why. Manaus overlooks the Negro and Solimoes rivers, which are part of the mighty Amazon River. Hundreds of tributaries branch off from the river and wind their way into the Amazon jungle. The river is almost 8 kilometers wide at this point and is a busy port with ocean going ships traveling 1600 kilometers up river from the Atlantic Ocean to get here. From the waterfront you can take hundreds of smaller vessels to many parts of the Amazon jungle. Like many tourists that come here I wanted to explore the jungle. It did not take long once I had landed at the airport that I was approached by a couple of safari tour operators. After sitting through the usual sales pitch I escaped to a quiet place in the airport and read their brochures. Since I had arrived late at night I decided to sleep at the airport until the morning when the local bus arrived to take me into the city. This was only one of the many airports I have slept in throughout the world. Being a budget traveler I often do this to save money rather than taking an expensive taxi ride into town late at night or staying
at an expensive hotel near the airport. Once I got into the city and found a cheap hostel to stay in, I began looking for the tour companies that operated trips into the jungle. Like other safaris and tours I had taken in Africa, Asia and India there were many to choose from at different prices and all BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
say they were the best. I have found out that it is not always the companies that are the most expensive that are the best. Talking to other travelers who have gone on the tours is probably the best way to find out which ones to take. Travelers on a budget will definitely tell you if they had a bad experience with a tour company. Never pay the price you are quoted in the brochure. When you tell them the price is too expensive and you start to walk out of the office the price all of a sudden is reduced. There are many companies wanting your business and they will not let you leave their office until you sign up with them. They will tell you not to tell other people on the tour the price they gave you. Later you will discover that everyone on the tour paid a different price for the same tour. Manaus is a mixture of old colonial architecture, Indian culture and modern European lifestyles. It was the rubber boom of the 19th century that started the growth of this city, but once the boom was over the city declined until the tourist craze and minerals, timber and its many byproducts created new industries. I was fortunate to visit the opera house one night when the Manaus symphony was playing. This beautiful building seems out of place in a city situated in the middle of the Amazon jungle. After three days of visiting the arts, crafts and fish markets I was ready to go into the jungle.
I decided on using Green Planet Tours to spend five days of jungle adventure and wasn't disappointed. I was not interested in luxury tours and always pick safaris and tours that are basic and inexpensive. The next day I was picked up at the hostel I was staying at and driven down to the waterfront with a girl from Denmark and a guy from Germany. We would be meeting a group of five other travelers who were already at the floating lodge on one of the tributaries of the Amazon. We crossed the river in a small motor boat then took a local bus to another tributary where we boarded a long narrow canoe which had a small engine attached to a propeller with an eight foot drive shaft. This was typical of the type of motorized craft found along the Amazon River and its 'tributaries. The local natives used dugout canoes to travel and fish on the water. We ended up traveling about 50 miles to get to our first stop on the river. We would be spending the first two nights on a floating barge with a small building still under construction as our sleeping and eating quarters. Our beds were hammocks covered with mosquito netting attached to the ceiling Of the building. The toilet was a hole in the floor of the barge at the corner of the outside deck. If you did not like fish or rice you would probably starve to death before the five days were over. MWML-OCTOBERNM
The river w s abundant with piranha and we could catch them from the c oe or from fishing over the side of the barge. We ate a lot o piranha on this trip, When we stopped at different places along the river and our guide told us we could jump off the c oe and swim in the river. Since most of us had seen piranha ea ing all the flesh of large animals that swam in the Amazon riv r on television shows like the Discover channel we thought e wasn't serious but when he jumped into the water and after wimming returned to the canoe alive and still in one piece e decided it was safe to swim among the ferocious little fish. We were told that they rarely attack humans or cattl swimming or bathing in the water and are attracted to bloo or pieces of meat instead. It was easy to catch the fish using o ly a pole with about 10 feet of line and a hook baited with piec s of fish or chicken. You had to watch taking the piranha off the hook because their teeth are extremely sharp. One unf rtunate traveler got a nasty cut on his finger when a fish bit i as he was trying to get the fish off the hook. Every day ound 3 o'clock the rain came and lasted for about an hour. ne day we got stuck in a rainstorm while still out on the river. e engine got wet and wouldn't start and the canoe started to fill with rainwater. We used our hands and a small bucket to ail the water out of the canoe so as not to sink. On another day we spotted something swimming across the river. When we ot close to it we saw that it was a sloth. Our guide told us th t this was the first time he had ever seen one in the water. It w s a very strange looking creature with a small round head, lo arms and legs and extremely long claws which it used to ang on to the tree branches that it spent most of its life in. We ifted it out of the water and put it back on the shore in the clos St tree. Considering the number of alligators we saw along th river the sloth would have probably been a meal to one oft em before it could cross the river. Each day we ould walk into the jungle hoping to see many animals but due g the day it is so hot that they are usually asleep. It is nigh ime that many of them come out along with millions of mos uitoes. By 8 o'clock each of us was lying in our hammocks c vered by our mosquito screens, listening to the sounds of e jungle in the dark. There would be the occasional scre from one of the girls who saw a spider crawling up the utside of her mosquito screen or the cursing of a guy who wa trying to kill a mosquito that got inside his screen. Yes it wa fun sleeping out in the middle of the Amazon jungle. On our last d y we trekked into part of the jungle that had different kind of ees used for many of the world's medicines and saw the tree that we get latex rubber from. We also saw the large tarantul spiders. We would poke a long thin leaf into the holes at the b se of trees where they lived and pull them out of their homes. S me of them were huge. Luckily they would quickly go back i to their holes when they saw us. Many parts of the Amazon ar yet to be explored and hopefully civilization will leave this b autiful jungle alone. Brazil is such a large country that I pl on visiting it again and hopefully! will have learned some Po guese by the time I return. Phil Shie ds lives in San Diego. He spends three to five months each yea traveling the world. So far he has been to 48 countries and Inns on going to Brazil again this year along with Vietnam nd Cambodia. He has bicycled, sailed, backpacked and dr yen his way around many of these countries. e can be reached at B5A1967@hotmail.com. 41
Prelude Op. 28, No. 6 Frederic Chcpim
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Tl- e violence that, for centuries, the owner perpetrated against the slave was demo:ratised by decades of military dictatorship and has been sanctioned by the democratic regime CARLOS PALOMBINI In early April, lecturers, workers and students in the Music Department ofthe Federal University of Pernambuco at Recife were invited for a recital by the London based Brazilian pianist Arnaldo Cohen and requested to RSVP. The invitation was issued by Banco Sudameris, which is affiliated to Banque Sudameris of Paris and controlled by Grupo Banca Commerciale Italiana of Milan. Sudameris is opening its campus branch in the recently inaugurated facilities of the University Convention Centre, where the recital would take place. What would become, through a history of rebellions and treasons, the Pernambuco state, originated from one of the first administrative successes of the young Portuguese colony. 42
Rich in brazil wood, the region was fought over by Dutchmen, Frenchmen, Spaniards and English pirates. The city of Recife grew under the view of Olinda—a UNESCO-declared historic site----as a merchants pendant to the aristocratic old town, gradually taking over the economic lead and rising to the position of metropolis of the Brazilian Northeast. In these shores Brazil was discovered by Pinzon and not by Cabral as the history books teach and the ferocious Caete Indians devoured the aptly named Bishop Sardinha (Sardine), anticipating urban anthropophagi. Nowadays, latter-day saints from North-American missions stroll around, alluring with sanitized blondness mamelucos, cafusos, mulattos and mestizos. Pernambuco boasts the oldest aristocracy in the country. Mrs Mayrink Veiga, formerly a top ten best-dressed lady of Rio society and a beauty, now earns her livelihood here, telling the lower strata the dos and don'ts of upper class etiquette in the pages of the local equivalent to the London Sun (devoured as her fortune has been by extortive interest rates charged on former employees' social security monies, which she used to borrow from the Brazilian state): "In those days," she says, "men used to wear tails.., now they complain about wearing a jacket!" This was my coming out evening and I wished neither to overdo nor understate it: light brown suede shoes, white sockets (suburban in London but comme ilfaut in Recife), beige trousers, best white shirt (with mother of pearl buttons), bespoken terracotta linen jacket and a silver coated chain hanging from my trousers pocket. For sleazy looks, a bit of that exquisite Schwarzkopf gel wax that I brought from Dublin and, to round it off, the woody undertones of Ever, by Applewoods. "Carlos... how beautiful you are!" my neighbour uttered in wonder as I left. Those who earn over three hundred Pounds Sterling (450 dollars) a month are not supposed to take busses in this country. However, I remain convinced that one should not always go native in the tropical regions. A seat on the left afforded the view of a beautiful pair of thighs on the right, and with no further ado I took it. Lost in contemplation, I was awoken by the noises of hit and broken glass, female shrieks and myriad glass fragments landing onto my face. Ladies crawled, robbery and rape stamped on their faces. No more discomfited than the first Baron von Palombini in Saxony in the aftermath of the Napoleonic debacle, I gazed around assessing the likelihood of another bullet and I pondered the wisdom of surrendering one's course to the ubiquity of fleshly gifts. A stone thrown at the bus by one of the countless children who roam the streets of Recife had crossed a window pane on the right, just behind those thighs, at the corresponding point to where I was seating on the left, before it went out through a left window pane, two seats behind myself. I had been saved by the imponderable laws of relative movement. One queues for everything in this country. In sao Paulo, at the Consolacao branch of the Brazilian Airline, one queues to get information as to whether one should queue. In Recife, at the campus branch of the Brazilian Bank, one queues for one hour to pay a check. Those who earn over a hundred Pounds a month qualify as special clients and special clients queue in special queues. Those who earn over three hundred and fifty Pounds a month qualify as doubly special clients but doubly special clients queue in simply special queues. One hour before the concert, the Convention Center offered a double choice of queues. I took the shortest. It was the slowest. Wearing all the appearances of clients of a distinctively selective European bank, a stocky gentleman, his plump wife and their marriageable daughter arrived, in full swing. The gentleman shouted abuse at a pair of ladies who exchanged ideas with the ticket collector at too slow a pace. His wife attempted to grab my place. Having set the queue going with his yelling, the gentleman set about propelling it further with his belly. Thus, at the drop of a hat, I was rubbing shoulders and private parts with the upper echelons of financial society. Inside the concert hall, conversation ranged from basic Italian ('a scherzo?') to real estate ('my holiday homes'). At nine BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
o'clock sharp a pair of attendants approached two young ladies who, for half an hour, had been seating in the front row. The ladies were removed. Reservation labels were stuck to their seats. The Vice Chancellor was ushered in. Backs were slapped. He was offered those seats. A video screen unfolded. Sudameris had us know it was one and the same with the struggles of the Brazilian people. The local representative took the stage. He repeated it. Mr Cohen was sight for sore eyes. The dramatic contrasts and manifold transitions of Chopin's set of Ballades were brought to life with uncompromising technique and variegated hues. Halfway though the Third Ballade, a fortissimo passage sent me away from the hall and deep into the music. I resurfaced. Refreshments were served. Soft drinks circulated freely. Italian white was the preserve of the fittest. Guests were invited to return to their seats. Procrastinators were gently pushed in. The Vice Chancellor climbed the stage. Sudameris was thanked and "a public and high-quality university" was cheered. With a Debussy-like performance ofthe Second Nocturne Mr Cohen rose to the rarefied heights of Dinu Lipatti's historic Nocturne in D Flat interpretation. Fantaisie-impromptu, the Third Etude Op. 10, the First and Twelfth Etudes Op. 25, the First and Second Scherzi followed. Having made his way through terminal coughing, wristwatch beeps and mobile-phone calls "in the way of a man who accepts all things, and accepts them in the spirit of cool bravery", Mr Cohen was awarded a standing ovation. He retorted with a finely crafted, superbly phrased and unbelievably fresh Minute Waltz. At half past twelve, Scriabin' s Etude Pat hetique drew the evening to a close. "To synthesize and to stabilize a musical expression of popular base, as a means to conquer a language that reconciles the country in the horizontality of its territory and the verticality of its classes (raising the rustic culture to the universalised scope of bourgeois culture, and giving the bourgeois musical production a social base that it lacks)", thus Wisnik summarizes the programme of the modernist cycle of musical nation-
alism in Brazil (0 coro dos contrarios, 1977, cited by Behague in Heitor Villa-Lobos, 1994). The middle classes like Chopin. The violence that, for centuries, the owner perpetrated against the slave was democratised by decades of military dictatorship and has been sanctioned by the democratic regime (Page, The Brazilians, 1995). In Brazilian politics today, it is not the rustic landowner from Bahia that rises to the universalised scope of bourgeois culture, it is the cosmopolitan intellectual from So Paulo that sinks to the scope of nationalized bourgeois brutality. Like the famous fur coat with which the Finance Minister, Miss Cardoso de Mello, has sought to impress Their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales in a Rio gala evening, the fabric of Brazilian society is moth-eaten beyond repair. Slaughtered or ostracized, the Indians alone remain unsullied. They Oshrine the nationhood that might have been. Ena mokoce-ce-Mako (the boy is sleeping in the hammock). This article was originally published by
Carlos Palombini currently lives in Porto Alegre, Rio Grande do Sul, and holds a PhD in Music from the University of Durham, UK: His articles and reviews appear in scholarly journals as the Computer Music Journal (Cambridge: MIT Press), Music and Letters (Oxford: Oxford University Press), Organised Sound (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), the Electronic Musicological Review (Curitiba: Universidade Federal do Parana) and the Leonardo group of publications (Cambridge: MIT Press). He has written contributions to Masica y nuevas tecnologlas: pespectivas para el siglo XXI (Barcelona: L'Angelot, 1999) and The Twentieth Century Music AvantGarde: a Biocritical Sourcebook (New York: Greenwood, forthcoming). Visit his website at wvvw.palombini.freeserve.co.uk and e-mail him at Palombini@usa.net.
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Marisa Monte is one of those fortunate beings into whose lap the deities, who determine the destinies of artists, have poured all possible tokens of success. From her background of opera and popular music, Monte evolved a highly individualistic style, becoming the best-selling vocalist in Brazilian popular music (MPB) and one of the most striking musical figures to emerge from Rio de Janeiro in the past 15 years. Renowned not only for her singing, writing, and producing but also for her farsighted concept ofthe path Brazilian music must take, Monte is widely regarded as a central figure on the MPB scene. Promoting her new CD, Memorias, Cronicas e Declarac5es de Amor (Memories, Chronicles, and Declarations of Love), Marisa Monte opened her United States tour at Royce Hall on the campus of UCLA on September 22, 2000. And despite an encompassing on-stage sculpture, big screen projections, fabulous stage sets and lighting by Patrick Woodroffe (well known for his work for Tina Turner, the Rolling Stones, and Peter Gabriel); attention quickly gravitated to Monte's slight figure center stage. She is, by general agreement, lovely in a delicate, porcelain way, like a piece of cloisonné; but what is more remarkable is her air of repose. An attractive, dark-haired young woman with a sensuous voice, hands that float ethereally, and truculent eyes; Monte imbues a luminous intensity, like a painting beheld with both ears and eyes. The voice, a mezzo-soprano, warm in timbre and unbelievably flexible, has a wider sweep of coloration in all ranges than most voices in contemporary Brazilian pop. It is a voice that possesses extraordinary dexterity and whose production does not seem to require any effort. Her pitch, expressive phrasing, and legato skips are exceptional—
elements that are often forgotten within the ambit of popular music. She is dynamic and emotional, yet cool and under complete control; her audience appeal is irresistible. Born into a musical family, Monte attended rodas de samba (samba jam sessions) as a child—many taking place in her own home—and studied piano, percussion, and guitar before seriously pursuing a career in music. After operatic studies in Italy, she served the ultimate apprenticeship by filling theaters and clubs around Rio for close to two years without worrying about signing a recording contract. Her magnetic personal charisma and undeniable talents—musically and otherwise—assured that success was hers for the taking, and she had only to collect it. Meeting fame with her first recording twelve years ago supplied Monte with a security uncommon in the record industry. Unlike other major MPB (MUsica Popular Brasileira—Brazilian Popular Music) artists, Monte releases a new work every three to four years; her re-apparition is always an event. Furthermore, her latest agreement with EMI has brought about an unexpected change in the company's policy, especially noteworthy during these delicate times when CD pirating and Internet downloading has offset the power structure of the multinational record labels. Monte's renewed ten-year contract with EMI guarantees the continuous pressing of all her recordings, their distribution through Monte's own subsidiary label, Phonomotor, and complete artistic freedom with no interference from EMI concerning the content of any Phonomotor release. To premiere the Phonomotor label, Monte produced and made a cameo appearance on the recording Tudo Azul, by the legendary Velha Guarda (Old Guard) da Portela, a group of hallowed sambistas. Selling more than thirty thousand BRAZZIL -OCTOBER 2000
copies, the recording, which is lyrically inspired, harmonically truthful, and rhythmically authentic, has helped to open new markets for traditional samba. Marisa Monte may be a pop singer, but she has brought the variety, charm, and consummate musicianship of Brazil's finest sambistas as well as some of the richest strains of Brazilian culture to a wider audience. A musician who is not content with excelling in just one musical genre, Monte's flexible approach and unique vocal gifts have enabled her to embrace—more often than not with great success—bossa nova, samba, rock, reggae, R&B, and funk. Her recordings, all surveys of Brazilian styles, have earned a reputation for intelligence in the selection of repertoire not solely for their quality but also for their timely retrieval of traditional forms, every recording paying tribute to the greatest icons of Brazilian imagination. Curiously, response to her latest offering, Memorias, CrOnicas e Declqrac5es de Amor (Memories, Chronicles, and Declarations of Love), remains lukewarm in some quarters. Monte is, without a doubt, a remarkable singer with an outstanding cultural and musical foundation, but has delivered so much marvelous music in the past that her fans have come to expect a spiraling higher level of quality from each new release. Devotees of traditional samba and choro have reproached her for abandoning the high art of Brazilian composers like Cartola, Monsueto, Jatnelgo, and Pixinguinha for what seems to be pop commercialism. Detractors assert that Monte should enlist Rogerio Duprat or Gilson Peranzzetta to produce her work, and move beyond the offensive "world music" sonority of Arto Lindsay's productions, which sound predictably the same. Despite the pop appeal of the disc's arrangements and the production of the hits "Amor I Love You" and "Gentileza" (Kindness), Monte's latest work offers listeners a number of exquisite tunes, including the sambas "Para Ver as Meninas" (To See the Girls) and "Gotas de Luar" (Drops of Moonlight). Memorias, Cronicas e Declarac5es de Amor is principally pop music, and inside that pop universe, the work is stylistically successful. Before she left Brazil, we spoke about her background, the new CD, her connection with traditional samba, Phonomotor, and the U.S. tour. I was surprised that an artist of her status could be as open, frank, and friendly as she was. She struck me as extraordinarily personable, a quietly forceful person of integrity. Brazzil—Can you tell me about your experience with the classical repertoire and why you decided to stop studying? Marisa Monte—I started to study because I wanted to sing well and classical training was the only methodology available here in Brazil for developing good technique. So I started studying when I was fourteen, and for a long time I took classes every day. It was a kind of workout, something that you really could develop through practice, you know, like breathing, tuning, and extensions. At the same time, I was singing popular Brazilian music in a lot of shows with friends and listening to a lot of traditional samba. So I had a kind of mixed formation through technical study and by playing Brazilian music. When I was eighteen I went to Italy to study opera, which gave me the opportunity to study the repertoire and to live outside Brazil awhile. But after living in Italy for a year, I began to see Brazil with different eyes. For the first time, I could see hOw rich, original, and unique Brazilian music is in relation to the rest of the world. I saw myself a long way from home and realized how hard it was going to be to put aside all the cultural weight, the density of my background. Never before had I felt so Brazilian. To escape my background, to forget all the culture that had been implanted since birth, I would have had to live outside of Brazil for the rest of my life. I also knew that it was going to be very difficult for me to put aside modern production techniques. And since opera is something that is turned more toward the past, I could see clearly how, for me, BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
it was more impo ant to be in Brazil than to be singing opera in Italy. So came back when I was nineteen. I had been receiving in itations to record pop music in Brazil since I was sixtee , but studying in Europe was just a way of taking enough time to find my way, to decide what I really wanted. When I came ack, I started working on stage, and I worked on stage ere for two years, from the time I was nineteen until I as twenty-one. As you know, my first record was a cons quence of this work on stage. My career, it seems, even no is structured around the stage. When I tour, especially in Brazil, I do very big tours. But I've also been composing d producing more and more with other musicians from m generation, with people like Carlinhos Brown and Arna do Antunes, you know, people that I admire and that ar now working to further Brazilian music. Brazzil—Mar sa, you've co-written a number of tunes on the new CD, a d I'm wondering how you like composing with other ar ists. M.M.—I love is kind of dialogue. And! love to do this kind of work w people that I admire. Composing is completely magic You can bring something into the world where there was othing before. It's very abstract, only waves, only frequ ncies. You just organize these waves and something sudden y exists. It's magic. And it's very cool to make music with close friends. Since my instrument is a melodic one, my trength is in writing melodies. They are easier for me tow ite, but !also collaborate on lyrics and on grooves, like aco tic guitar grooves where the feeling of a tune often origin tes. I'm planning to write much more. You know, I'm ing to find the time because I would like a lot of people to eel my admiration, and I can show it by composing with t em, when the process is a partnership. Brazzil—One of your tunes on the new CD is dedicated to Profeta entileza. Who is Profeta Gentileza? M.M.—He w a homeless person here in Rio, who for thirty years walke the streets preaching kindness and love. He wasn't sorneo e who was asking for anything on the streets, he was gi ing. He would say, "People, don't use anger, use kindn ss. Kindness generates kindness. Violence generates vi lence." He was a very popular guy here. Everyone in Rio ew him because we always saw him on the streets. He us d to write his prophesies on the city's walls. They were essages of peace and love and kindness, so over time the eople christened him Profeta Gentileza. One day about tw years ago, I was walking by this place where there are m ny, many walls on which he used to write his messages. I o n walked there to see his writings and to read the different branches, the new ones that I had never seen before, looki g for new phrases, new expressions. But when I passed b that time, everything had been erased. Yeah, urban clean ng! Someone thought his work was dirty and ugly and had p inted over it. I wrote the song "Gentileza" because I though that that act was so symptomatic of our times and our wo ld and our indifference to others in the urban environme t. It was so anti-gentileza. The ONG (non-government I organization) here in Rio recently restored all his wo ks. Now they're preserved forever and people cannot era e them anymore. Brazzil—Is P ofeta Gentileza still around? h died two years ago. A very nice person passed through o world. Now if you come to Rio, you can see Gentileza's rks. It's a kind of urban book near the Rodoviaria, the b s terminal at the entrance of the city, and it's a very cool k nd of welcome mat. Very beautiful, not only the texts, the words he's written; but also the typography, the art, the gr phics, all very beautiful. You have to see it. Brazzil—Y ou mentioned producing, showing admiration, and furt ering Brazilian music, so I have to tell you how much I a mire your producing the Velha Guarda da Portela. Can ou tell me about the project? M.M.—Well, he Velha Guarda, as it is known today, _ was founded in 19 0 by Paulinho da Viola and is comprised
of twelve musicians—nine instrumentalists and three female vocalists—who are the most expressive musicians from the composer group of the samba school. But from the time of their formation until now, they had made only three recordings. The last one (Homenagem a Paulo da Portela) was in '88, so for twelve years they persevered without recording their own work. I learned through Paulinho da Viola that they had a huge repertoire that had never been recorded. So we researched extensively and discovered songs from the forties, from the fifties, and from the sixties that were present only in their minds, in their oral tradition, and then we recorded Tudo Azul. Most of the material had not been recorded before, even though some of the songs are from forty years ago. Tudo Azul was very well received here in Brazil. Brazzil—W asn' t your father a member of the escola? M.M.—Yes, yes, when I was very young. I was born in '67, and he was connected to Portela until '73. I remember these guys in my home when I was very young, when I was just starting to listen and learn. I am from Rio, and samba is the strongest musical expression from our city. So I really enjoyed having these artists playing in my home, and I always admired them. My father wasn't really involved after '74, but he continued to buy the records and bring home all this traditional samba. Then in '91, I invited the singers, the three female singers from the Velha Guarda da Portela, to sing with me. And then in '94 all of them came to record with me on Rose and Charcoal with Paulinho da Viola. Since then I've kept in contact with them, and we've been collaborating in shows together. Sometimes they invite me to sing with them, and I go. Sometimes I invite them, they come. Brazzil—Do you think the recent comparisons of the Velha Guarda da Portela to the Buena Vista Social Club are valid? M.M.—They're the same generation, but it's a different context. There are some similarities, but musically it's different. The comparisons didn't come from me or from them, but from a few journalists who were trying be clever. Brazzil—What do you feel it will take for the Velha Guarda to achieve similar worldwide acclaim? M.M.— Well, they're being released now in France, Spain, Portugal, and Africa on Lusafrica, the same label that releases Cesaria Evora, and there is a label interested in releasing them in the United States. Also, the record was a nominee for the Latin Grammy. You know, there is a new Latin Grammy, a samba category, and we were nominated. But the Velha Guarda musicians are very old, so it's difficult for them to tour, to travel. Some of the guys are eighty years old; some are like seventy-eight, still it's so moving to hear and see them live. Brazzil—I saw them at Peoples almost ten years ago, which was funny because at the time it was more of a bossa nova club. I don't even know if it's there any more. M.M.—Ah, you saw them with Cristina Buarque, right? Nice show. Yes, Peoples is still there, but it's much more of a dance club now. Brazzil—What else are you planning for the Phonomotor label? M.M.—Well, my new record and my old records will be issued and distributed worldwide through Phonomotor. But I don't plan on becoming the artistic director of a big record label or taking care of a lot of other artists. I just don't have the time for that. Phonomotor is something that I created only for my projects, like the Velha Guarda or for something that I decide to produce in the future. I envision it as a very restrictive independent label that allows me to produce whatever !want. And I don't really want to release new artists or look for new people or start listening to tons of tapes. People have already started sending me a lot of material, and I really can't do that work. Phonomotor is something very chained to my work. When you see Phonomotor, you'll see Marisa Monte. Brazzll—Marisa, some critics have said that your 46
latest CD lacks the courage of your previous works and that the CD as a whole is too romantic. Would you comment on this? M.M.—Well, most of the critics were very positive, and I can tell that many people have been moved by the record. I'm touring Brazil, and I can feel the energy at the shows. The record was released only three months ago, and no matter where we perform, everyone in the audience knows the songs. Yeah, singing and listening, I can feel that they're really happy because we're singing together. And the sales, like 700,000 in three months, are too much, much more than the other records I've made. Maybe I should explain that my relationship with the critics is very impersonal. I know that whoever writes and signs his name to a review, is stating a personal opinion, not mine, so I don't really get angry. I don't get involved with critics. They're a part of the business that I keep away from. My critic is my audience. Brazzi/—Nobody talks about Marisa Monte's personal life, and this kind of privacy is unusual in Brazil. How do you maintain your mysterious aura? M.M.—Well, I just put the music first, always. I really don't think I'm more important or more interesting than the music and the art and the creation. So all the space that the media gives me, which for me is very valuable, I use to talk about music. My responsibility is to form an audience for music, not to spread gossip, so I just don't contribute. Most of this personal gossip comes from artists who like to talk and think they have to, or think they need to, or something like that. For me, that kind of attention doesn't work. It's too restrictive. I'm really kind of shy with press like that. I don't have anything to hide, but I don't have anything to show. I'm a musician. I make music, and I don't think that because I'm a musician, I have to expose my intimacies. It doesn't make any sense. It's a profession for me. It's like being a teacher or a doctor. Why aren't teachers and doctors asked to explain their personal lives to the press? I'm a singer, for me it's the same. Brazzil—The media does get a little too crazy sometimes, like all that business we had here with Clinton. It's really none of anybody's business. M.M.—Ah, no, but Clinton is an elected guy. He's someone who has a civic career. It's different for someone who takes care of laws and peoples' money and their safety. Music is just music. It's something that doesn't really interfere. It's optional. If you don't want to, you don't need to listen. A musician and a president are different. I think they're different. Music is a profession for me. It's only work. The way people deal with media exposure is an individual matter. Everyone has their own style and reasons. And I'm already exposed a lot. I reveal myself a lot through my work because Pm very involved in all I do. If you just look at my work, it tells a lot about me. And I just want to tell about myself through that. I think it's more interesting. Brazzil—Y ou have such an ethereal stage persona; I'm wondering if your gestures are spontaneous or part of choreographed presentation. M.M.—No, they're the same kinds of gestures that I make when I'm talking. Really, I talk a lot with my hands. It's funny because in the new show, I play a little bit, so in some songs my hands are attached to the guitar, and I really miss moving them. It's like a suspension of my expression. Moviirg my arms and hands is something that really helps me to sing and to communicate a song's meaning. Brazzil—Cafi you tell me a little about the new show's visual effects? M.M.—Well, in Brazil I always have shows that are much more produced and much more structured than my shows outside the country. Occasionally we tour abroad with everything, but generally, we take only the band. This year, however, I'm bringing the whole show to the United States, the same one that we're now presenting in Brazil. Ernesto Neto, who is one of the most important visual artists BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
in Brazil and whose career has a huge projection outside of Brazil, created a fabric sculpture for the show with a lot of transparencies, with different planes and different perspectives, and it works as a catalyst, dramatically integrating the lighting and the scenery in the production. It's something that you have to see and which is hard to explain. Brazzil—As you know from last time you played Los Angeles, the entire Brazilian community will be there to see it. M.M.—That's funny because in big cities like Los Angeles, New York, and Miami there are so many Brazilians, even outside the United States, in Europe. When we go to Madrid, there are hordes of Brazilians. But when we go to small cities, like last time we came to the United States, or like we did in Europe when we played six cities in Spain and eight cities in Germany, then we start getting into places where there are no Brazilians, and that's interesting. The last time we performed in L.A., we played Palm Springs, which was so funny because there were maybe three Brazilians in the crowd. The audience, remarkably, was American, and it was really fun. Brazzii—Brazilian acts come to the United States every year, but your shows are usually the only ones to sell out months ahead of time. M.M.—Yeah, but this is a consequence of what we were talking about before, my career being on the stage. I've been working a lot lately as a composer and also producing more and more and working in the studio, but I prefer that direct connection with the audience. Brazzil—W ill you be bringing the same band with you that you brought in '98? M.M.—For this tour, I'm using a slightly different instrumentation. I have three percussionists, a cavaquinho, and a keyboard player, so the band formation is also a little different.' Toninho Ferragutti, I changed because I didn't want to have an accordion now that I have keyboards, but three guys are the same: Davi Moraes, guitars; Dadi, the bass player; and Peu on percussion. The group is a little bit different, but this is normal. It's always a matter of sonority. Brazzii—Marisa, is there anything special that you want to convey to your fans or anything important that I haven't asked you about? M.M.—Well, the only thing I'd like to mention is my web site. I think it's cool. It's a brand new one, completely renewed. And there, people can find all the information about the tours and about the recordings. They can get Tudo Azul and also listen to music that I've programmed there. So for people who are far away, I think it's the best channel to me. Brazzll—Marisa, it's been a pleasure speaking with you. M.M.—Thank you, Bruce. I hope to see you there. Brazzil—I'll be there. M.M.—Beijo (kiss). Cavaquinho player Mauro Diniz is the son and musical partner of the great Monarco (Hildemar Diniz)—singer, composer, director, and cavaquinho player of the Velha Guarda da Portela. Marisa Monte Official Web Site: http://www.uol.com.br/marisamonte/index-d.htm Bruce Gilman, music editor for Brazzil, received his Masters degree in music from California Institute of the Arts. He leads the Brazilian jazz ensemble Axe and plays cuica for escola de samba MILA. You can reach him through his email: cuicaginterworld.net
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
Gentileza arisa Monte)
Kindness
pagaram tudo Pintar tudo de cinza A p avra no muro Ficou ci berta de tinta
Everything was erased They painted everything gray The word on the wall Was covered with paint
pagaram tudo Pintaram tudo de cinza S6 icou no muro Triste e tinta fresca
Everything was erased They painted everything gray Only the wall was left Sadness and fresh paint
Nos que pass S apressados Pelas as da cidade Merecem S ler as letras E as palavr de gentileza
We who hurry through The streets of the city Are entitled to read the letters And the words of kindness
Por iss eu pergunto A vo es no mundo Seem is inteligente 0 livro u a sabedoria 0 mundo 6 uma escola A ida é o circo Amor pala ra que liberta Já izia o profeta
That's why I ask You in the world Which is more intelligent The book or the wisdom The world is a school Life is a canvas Love is a word that liberates The prophet said
Marisa Monte canta Roberta Carlos em show que une as miisicas de amor e guitarras pesadas
Cassiano ' Monarco Marisa Monte' Marisa Mon Various Ti Timbalada Carlinhos Brown Marisa Monte
ected Discograp Label World Pacific/ EMI-Odeon World Pacific/ EMI-Odeon edo ouTarde Columbia A Voz do Samba Kuarup Bo. e and Charcoal Metro Blue/EMI (Verde, Anil, Amarelo, Azhl, Cor-de-Rosa e Carvdo) A Great Noise Metro Blue/EMI (Barulhinho Born) Red Ifot+Rio Antilles/Verve Ackstico WEA Vamos Dar a Volta Polydor no Guetho anzlete Man Virgin/EMI Memorias, CrOnicas Phonomotor/EMI e Declaraceres de Amor Tua'o Azul Phonomotor/EMI
Velha Guarda da Portela Paulinho da Viola Side Dols MornemosWEA Vol JO
198 1 1991 1991 1994
2000
47
Para Ver as Meninas (Paulinho da Viola)
To See the Girls
Silencio por favor Enquanto esqueco urn pouco a dor no peito Nao diga nada sobre meus defeitos E nao me lembro mais quem me deixou assim
Silence please While I forget, a little, the pain in my breast Don't say anything about my flaws I don't remember any more who left me this way
Hoje eu quero apenas Uma pausa de mil compassos Para ver as meninas E nada mais nos bracos
Today I only want the pause of a thousand beats To see the girls And nothing else in my arms
S6 este amor assim descontraido Quem sabe de tudo nap fale Quem nAo sabe de nada se cale Se for preciso eu repito Porque hoje eu you fazer Ao meu jeito eu you fazer Urn samba sobre o infinito
Only love so relaxed Who knows everything, don't talk Who knows nothing, be quiet If it's necessary, I'll repeat Because today I'm doing things my way I'm going to write A samba about the infinite
Cinco Minutos Five Minutes (Jorge Benjor) Pedi voce Pra esperar cinco minutos sa Voce foi embora sem me atender Nao sabe o que perdeu Pois voce nao viu, voce nao viu. •• Como eu fiquei
I asked you To wait only five minutes You left without listening You don't know what you missed Since you didn't see, you didn't see How I was left
Pedi voce Pra esperar cinco minutos s6 Voce foi embora Sem me atender Pois voce nao viu Nao sabe o que perdeu Pois voce no viu, nao viu, nao viu Como eu fiquei
I asked you To wait only five minutes You left Without listening. . . Since you didn't see You don't know what you missed Since you didn't see, you didn't see, you didn't see How I was left
Dizem que foi chorando, sorrindo, cantando Os meus amigos, ate disseram Que foi amando, amando
They say I was crying, smiling, singing Even my friends said I was loving, loving
Pois voce nao sabe, voce nao sabe E nunca, e nunca, E nunca, e nunca, Vai saber porque Pois voce nao sabe quanto vale cinco minutos, cinco minutos
Since you don't know, you don't know And never, and never, And never, and never, Will you know How much five minutes is worth, Five minutes in life
Velha Guarda da Portela
48
Gotas de Luar Drops of Moonlight (Nelson Cavaquinho/ Guilherme de Brito) Se eu pudesse roubar as gotas de luau Que vi brilhar nos olhos teus Guardava aquele encanto Para enfeitar meu pranto Na hora do adeus
If I could steal the drops of moonlight That I saw shining in your eyes I would keep that wonder To grace my weeping At our goodbye
Sei que muito breve Tu iras me esquecer Eu sei que you sofrer Por culpa da minha paixao
I know that soon You will forget me I know that I'm going to suffer For my passion
Eu deviate deixar I should let you go Mas you continuar But I will continue Para castigar meu pobre coracao Punishing my poor heart BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
Ventriloquist—An amusing and critical take on modern society and the difficulty of being original. Internet, futurology, fashion, and drugs are some of the target of writer and director Gerald Thomas. Movie director Caca Diegues participates with his voice in off. Teatro Sao Pedro. Mais Perto (Closer)—Comedy. Four people getting together, falling in love, having sex, and betraying each other. Written by Patrick Marber, directed by Hector Babenco, with Renata Sorrah, Jose Mayer, Marco Ricca and Guta Stresser.
Davies Just-released American movies:
RIO Velorio a Brasileira (Wake Brazilian Style)—Comedy—After winning the big prize in the lottery three friends decide do enjoy their lives. Written by Aziz Bajur, directed by Golb Carvalho, with the Grupo Teatral Batraquios Imperials. Deu a Louca em Cinderela - Um Conto ao Avesso (Cinderella Went Crazy —A Short Story in the Wrong Side)—Comedy—An erotic satire to the famous fairy tale. Written by Zoraya Andrade, directed by Jorge Paes, with Luciana Sena and Diegotaputto. Amigo Oculto (Secret Friend)—Comedy. A family gathering to celebrate Christmas becomes a big mess. Written by Augusto Boal, directed by Marilia Pera, with Fafy Siqueira and Francoise Forton. Teatro do Sesi. Louca Turbulencia (Crazy Turbulence)— After being fired from the radio station she worked for, a radio hostess decides to air some dirty linen about the people she worked with. Teatro Dulcina
SAO PAULO Um Padre a ltaliana (A Priest, Italian Style)—Comedy—An ambitious young priest whose goal is to become pope gets involved in strange and threatening happenings while waiting for the bishop's visit. Written by Pedro Mario Herrero, directed by Camila Raffanti, with Guilherme Uzeda and Camila Raffanti, Tanto Faz (It Doesn't Matter)—Drama— Adapted from Reinaldo Moraes's book of same name. Ricardo gets a scholarship to study in Paris, but instead of studying he dedicates himself to drugs, women and loafing. Socorro, Mamae Foi Embora! (Help, Mom's Gone Away!)—Comedy. Typical Jewish mother abandons the house for one week and comes back announcing she wants to become an actress. Written by Benedito Ruy Barbosa, directed by Jose Wilker, with John Herbert, Marilene Barbosa, and Dalton Mello. Teatro Imprensa. BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
The Big Kahuna (A Chave do Sucesso), Road Trip (Caindo na Estrada), Coyote Ugly (Show Bar), Oxygen (24 Horas para Morrer), Gone in 60 Seconds (60 Segundos), Shangai Noon (Bater ou Correr), Dinossaur (Dinossauro), The Perfect Storm (Mar em Fi;ria), Just the Ticket (Meu Adorcivel Sonhador), The Road to El Dorado (0 Caminho para El Dorado), The Five Senses (Os Cinco Sentidos), Pokemon 2 - The Movie 2000 (Pokemon - 0 Filme 2000), Nutty Professor II: The Klumps (Professor Aloprado 2: A Familia Klump), Rules of Engagement (Regras do Jogo), What Lies Beneath (Revelagoo), South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut (South Park: Maior, Melhor & Sem Cortes), Up at the Villa (Uma Paixtio em Florenca), X-Men (X-Men) Quase Nada (Almost Nothing)—Brazil/ 2000—Drama. The stories of three cowl"try men who despite living without the amenities of modern life have to deal with similar existential problems as those faced by people who live in big cities. Directed by Sergio Rezende, with Jose Augusto Pompeu, Camilo Bevilacqua, Jurandir de Oliveira, Genezio de Barros. Amilia—Brazi 1/2000—Drams. Inspired by French actress Sarah Bernhardt's passage through Brazil in 1905. Directed by Ana Carolina, with Marilia Pera, Beatrice Agenin and Miriam Muniz. 0 Auto da Compadecida (The Compassionate Lady Play)—Brazi1/1 999—Comedy. Two men from the Brazilian Northeast, Joao Grillo and ChicO have a hard to survive and to through some hilarious situations. Directed by Guel Arraes, with Matheus Nachtergaele, Sefton Mello, Marco Nanini, Fernanda Montenegro, Mauricio Goncalves and Lima Duarte. Eu, Tu, Eles (I, You, They)—Brazil/ 2000—Drama. Based on the real story of Darlene, a northeastern woman who lives in the same house with her husband and two lovers. Directed by Andrucha Waddington, with Regina Case, Lima Duarte and Stenio Garcia. Estorvo (Hurdle)—Brazi1/1 999—Drama. Running away to nowhere a man meets threatening characters in an unknown world. Adapted from the book by Chico Buarque de Holanda. Directed by Ruy Guerra, with Jorge Perugorria, Bianca Byington, Leonor Arocha, Tonico Oliveira, Xando Graca and Susana Ribeiro.
Hest sellers FICTION 1 Os cem melhores contos do seculo, Org. italo Moriconi. Objetiva. R$ 49 2 Cesar, Allan Massie. Ediouro, R$ 26,90 3 Ofensas pessoais, Scott Turow. Record, R$ 30 4 Outros hibitos, Anna Franca. Garamond, R$ 16 5 0 conselheiro come, Joao Ubaldo Ribeiro. Nova Fronteira, R$ 19 6 Fim de caso, Graham Greene. Record, R$20 7 Portoes de fogo, Steven Pressfield. Objetiva, R$ 35,90 8 Pedra da luz, vol 2: A mulher sabia, Christian Jacq. Bertrand, R$ 38 9 Os vermes, Jose Roberto Torero. Objetiva, R$ 21,90 10 Conte-me seus sonhos, Sidney Sheldon. Record, R$ 28
NONFICTION 1 Morcegos negros, Lucas Figueiredo. Record, R$ 28 2 A arte da felicidade, Dalai Lama. Martins Fontes, R$ 32,50 3 Mar sem fim, Amyr Klink. Companhia das Letras, R$ 26,50 4 As 48 leis do poder, Greene/Elffers. Rocco, R$ 48 5 0 papa de Hitler, John Cornwell. Imago, R$ 40 6 Enquanto o amor nio vem, Iyanla Vanzant. Sextante, R$ 24 7 0 livro de ouro da mitologia, Thomaz Bulfinch. Ediouro, R$ 29 8 Uma &lea para o proximo milenio, Dalai Lama. Sextante, R$ 24 9 A aguia e a galinha, Leonardo Boff. Vozes, R$ 18 10 0 portugues que nos pariu, Angela Menezes. Relume. R$ 18
CHILDREN 1 Harry Potter e a camara secreta, J.K. Rowling. Rocco, R$ 22 2 Harry Potter e a pedra filosofal, J.K. Rowling. Rocco, R$ 22 3 Salim, o magic°. Malba Tahan. Record, R$ 40 4 0 pequeno principe, Saint-Exupery. Agir, R$ 13 5 0 tesouro das virtudes para criancas vol. 2, Ana Maria Machado. Nova Fronteira, R$ 23 6 A volta ao mundo em 53 histerias, Philip Neil. Companhia das Letrinhas, R$ 25,50 7 0 sitio no descobrimento, Luciana Sandroni. Globo, R$ 19,50 8 A pequena polegar. Eko, R$ 3,90 9 0 tesouro das virtudes para criancas, Ana Maria Machado. Nova Fronteira, R$ 23 10 0 homem que calculava, Malba Tahan. Record, R$ 19 According to Jornal do Brasil, http:// www.jb.com.br 49
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asses Conversational Brazilian Portuguese Method - "I tried several methods to learn BRAZILIAN PORTUGUESE, but when I started lessons with NILSON, I knew immediately that I'd found the best one. And in just a few months, I was able to communicate on a one-on-one basis." Individual, Total Immersion, Corporate Group and SemiPrivate. Phone (310) 379-0738 [178] Portuguese Courses in Salvador da Bahia, Dialog% http://www.brazilstudy.com, E-mail: dialogo@brazilstudy.com, fax: 0115571336-6329 [155]
OF a e BRAZIL - Wildlife Refuge - 130 acres Atlantic Forest, near Recife. Also tropical fruits. Excellent income from tourism. $100,000. (310) 832-4367 [156]
0 0110 "Need a Brazilian Magazine Editor/Coordinator In Houston TX?" Degreed, experienced, cornputer literate, multilingual, relocatable. For résumé e-mail laize06P,hotmail com [180]
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' ersnna u °man see s man Brasileira, atraente, procura americano 40-50. Foto para Luana, 140 Del Paso Ct, Fairfield, CA 94533 Tel.: (707) 429-0878 [178] Brazilian mulata lady—a knockout at 35—seeks young nice looking young boy 18+. Preference to dark skin. For good times. Letter and pict to: Cida, PO Box 894, Wildomar, CA 92595 [165]
' ersona 'an ee s Homan Frances-Americano, 45, delgado, atraente, olhos azuis, professor, falo frances, ingles, espanhol urn pouco de portugues, procuro brasileire delgada, 18-38 morando em Los Angeles. William (310) 305-2090 [177] African/American Male, 40, Engineer, handsome, affectionate, romantic, in Houston, desire to meet Brazilian lady 25-35, send letter with photo; Wilfred Edwards, PO Box 2025, Missouri City, TX 77459, USA E-mail: wilfred.edwards@ usa.net [166] Brasileiro-Americano, 36 anos, romantico e atraente, procurando relacionamento com brasileira ou americana. (818) 344-1881 [166] Seeking beautiful, professional, English-speaking Carioca woman for best friend and marriage. Write to: Jodaps, Box 1492, Morrobay, California 93443-1492, USA [163] Swedish gentleman, widower, 58, well educated, speaks Port., seeks independent, warmhearted,
educated lady with humor, and good professional status in Brazil, USA or anywhere. Write Bjorn Gunnarson PO Box 17242, Stockholm, 10462 Sweden - E-mail:bjom_s@dataphone.se [164] Americano, 38, atraente, romantico e sincero. Procura brasileira 18-45. Enviar foto para 244016th St, No. 179, San Francisco, CA 94103 [158] Seeking Bay Area single Brazilian women to meet nice, single, attractive American men in the Bay Area for friendship, romance, and marriage. No fee. Send color photo and profile to Love Connection - 964 Howard St, San Francisco, CA 94103 Suite 20 [160] Seeking ladies 18-45 years old to correspond with American men for friendship and companionship. FREE for all ladies. Write: TigerLilies, 2709 Lookout Dr., Suite 5206, Garland TX 75044 USA [160]
ersnna 'an see s man Brazilian bottom, 33 ylo, 55", 123Ibs, white skin, seeks black, young top man who wanna move to Brazil and share a whole life. Valdeck Phone 011 5571 981 1990, valdecka@ hotmail.com [163] Very handsome, professional, 40's WM seeks sincere, VGL/black/Brasil man. Truly love the music from Caetano to Nana to Gil and more! Maybe we can make music! I'm real thing! (323) 227-8935 [158]
en a Copacabana. Apartment for rent. Furnished, security, two blocks from beach, one bedroom, cozy. $65 per day. Call owner Maria (323) 6624667 [180]
runs a inn
erp.
Dialog° Translates from and to Brazilian Portuguese: http://www.brazilstudy.com [155]
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Es o secreto e mistico templcirio As almas, em silêncio, contemplando.'
• Cruz e Sous Mystic Secret Templar. A Transfiction JOHN HOWARD
In order to better visualize Joao Cruz e Sousa's unusual experience, which led to his important contribution to Brazilian literature, we might imagine a play on his life: in the late 19th century, a boatload of white Americans (or Brazilians) are kidnapped by the international slave trade, taken to the African Congo, and sold to work for powerful black natives. Two of these unfortunates, "luckier" than the others, are assigned to work in a royal mansion, where they are quartered together, in the cellar. Their child is born, much to the joy of the childless African queen, who decides she will not only give the infant her royal family name, but take a personal interest in educating him as a noble African black would be, "free" of the strange white Christian mythologies his superstitious parents would have him embrace. The boy would be initiated into traditional African cults, learn to beat the drum, dance, hear the legends and folktales of the Congo, speak Bantu or the local dialect. And he would be free. This blackman's soul in a white man's body.... Meanwhile, in the south of Brazil, in the provincial capital Nossa Senhora do Desterro, today Florian6potis, the islandcapital of Santa Catarina state, in the 1860's, the local population, who had limited access to world news and scandal, quite naturally and avidly sought after stories worth repeating in the sun-filled salons of the noble houses, in the exclusive restaurants of upper-class clubs, on the pristine beaches a short walk from downtown. For a few seasons, the talk of the town was Joao Cruz e Sousa, the "black poet." With the unique orientation Cruz e Sousa got in life, he could hardly have missed being something, somebody, quite unusual. His parents were shipped over from black Africa and bought in auction by an aristocrat to work, rather than in the fields, at the family mansion in what might be compared to pre-Civil War Atlanta, Georgia. They were, in that sense, "luckier." His father became a semi-skilled workman, a bricklayer; his mother washed clothes. They probably met at the stately home of the good Colonel and his genteel wife, who may have subtly encouraged them to multiply in their basement slave quarters. Or it may have been love at first sight, understandable under the circumstances. (Deserters of all good, under your royal clothes crocodile-like, you who flatter and squat, living in the light of privilege sensuously bought, as does the longneck turtle, in its beastly pose...) ("The Proslavers") (Oh! Transfugas do bem que sob o manto regio manhosos, agachados — bem como o crocodilo, viveis sensualmente a /uz dum privilegio na pose bestial dum cagado ("Escravocratas") When baby Joao came along, Mme Colonel, the Lady Clarinda Fagundes de Sousa just couldn't get over how cute he was, and right then and there decided he would have her name, she did, together with the name of the saint celebrated on his day of birth, San Juan de la Cruz, the Spanish mystic, poet, and revolutionary monk. Had she had a vision of love?
had her maternal instincts taken over? was she expiating the sins of her forefathers, who had built their fortunes on slave labor? Academic questions since, for good measure, the fine woman decided that her sometime adopted son, Joao Cruz e Sousa, would have the best education available in the entire province; he would be baptized; he would be raised a virtuous Christian. And yes, he would be a free man, even while being nursed, down in the basement. Free! of slavish matter to be free and real, rip off the shackles, cast away the pain and free, penetrate those Gifts which seal the soul, celestial lava and heavenly gain.... ("Freer) Livre! Ser livre da materia escrava, arrancar os grilhOes que nos flagelam e livre penetrar nos Dons que selam a alma e lhe emprestam toda a eterea lava.... ("Livre!") Yet early on, the tot was brought up to the sun-filled winter garden, amid the orchids and the tropical hanging ferns, or onto the spacious verandas, in sight of the huge jack-fruit and mango trees, in order to hear nursery rhymes and children's songs from the very mouth of the noble Lady of the House who, to the town's slave and poor-white population, lived the luxurious, leisurely life of royalty, of a queen. Portuguese rhythms and meter mingled freely with the Bantu and its archetypes, pushing deep tendrils into the fresh brain cells of the ancient African mind, now in a new world. Visions were being impressed on an intelligence whose quality was as yet unsuspected. He responded well, and the instruction, the indoctrination, continued. Madame de Sousa never recorded her deepest intent behind her conscious motive behind her actions. Did she smile her work to see? Meanwhile, back in the slave quarters, down in the cellar of the mansion, what were her parents whispering (no fear of hidden microphones), hot in their bed at night? Their only son, a favorite of the Queen! What would any black slaves whisper in each other's ears? What primitive spirit had descended into their home, into their bed? What fate was overtaking their family? Would little Johnny not be Ogum, the warrior? Could he not grow up to be wise, as Preto Velho? They would have to consult a Mae-de-Santa, a priestess of the transposed African cult-world. They would have to find an excuse to get out of the house, to go upstream to the priestess' hut, where she would throw the shells, or go into a trance, fall to the floor in a tremulous state of altered consciousness, her eyes rolled back in her head, be possessed of the spirit, receive a vision. They whispered, every night they whispered. Their son was reciting the white man's chants. He had the blessing, and the words, of the Queen as if, in England, Queen Victoria had adopted the son of her West Indian gardener, would send him to Oxford to study under Darwin. Others, too, were whispering. Wasn't there danger? He might somehow displease, and whites had the power over life and death, pain and pleasure, promotion or disgrace. What could happen now? The boy needed to know what the boss man's white skin meant; what the black man's place was. Caroline, John's illiterate mother,
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
would take her son aside, hold his arm, and speak low to him, her eyes wide, her voice tense. Had she been in Alabama, her words might have been "Yo be watchin' out dem white peoples! Dey kin make yo trubbles! I be see in dem whippin' on us peoples terrabul. Yo don' go say nothin' back on dem, yo hearin' yo maillny?!" From your soul in the tunnel's deep end, I sometimes-feel, as I sometimes descend, that as a fierce, hungry wolf in its pack, your vile hatred spies behind my back. ("Imprisoned by Hate") Da tu'al ma na funda galeria descendo as vezes, eu as vezes sinto que como o mais feroz lobo faminto teu odio baixo de alcateia espia. ("Presa do Odio") Neither his patroness nor his mother had as yet suspected that these and other counsels and messages, folk-tales, verse, spirits, dreams, inconsistencies and terror, were already gathering force in a prodigious intelligence, stimulating the creative energy deep in the mind of Joao, who was hearing everything, dressed in white shirts and velvet-collar jackets, wearing imported shoes, munching on pastries and chocolate5 from the town, being rewarded with a noblesseoblige pat on the head when he got the verse right which he usually did with unu ual speed. By age seven, when b ought into the presence of the g at man of the house, by then a Marechal, he could recite not • nly his lessons, but verses of his own composition. His foster-parents nodded at each other with pride and satisfact on; they would arrange for a public recital, before the cream f society. Here, then, w.. the talk of the town, on-stage for Nossa Senhora do Deste o's anniversary, on the patron saint's day, between acts at th • city's best theatre, speaking in verse to the Governor, the Gineral, the priests and the doctors. The Wealthy, the Po erful, the Owners. To some he was a phenomenon, too ers a curiosity, a simple entertainment, or merely a clown. e was the only black so promoted, so commented, so ho ored, for hundreds of miles, the only black child-prodigy poet on the Continent, perhaps in the world, the only Brazilian bla k destined to create a literary movement, an original style o symbolism. To some, of course, he was an uppity. They heard his name too much, and didn't like it. And they were jealous. black poet! When was the first slander? When the first int igue set into motion against the young genius? And the boy If self, named after a medieval Carmelite monk and a high s • iety family? When did he first see, on the way to the stage, en of his own color in chains? When did he first use his libe to sneak away from the mansion, go to town, and see, by ccident, a whipping at the pillory? What
Carnes virgens e tepidas do Oriente do Sonho e das Estrelas fabulosas, carnes acerbas e maravilhosas, tentadoras do sol intensamente...) ("DilaceracOes") which, together with his exclusive education and his white friends, distanced him from the local black population. His mother Caroline had thrown him out of the house years ago. Racist hatred, belatedly being denounced even now in Brazil, was at his back. Rescued from a delicate situation by an itinerant group of actors and entertainers, he went on the road for two years, reading his poetry. And organizing anti-slavery conferences. Upon returning to Santa Catarina, more famous and controversial than ever, he was introduced to the President of the province, a Dr. Gama Rosa, reportedly a sympathizer who later went so far as to nominate the 23-year old poet and activist for the post of District Attorney. What was the doctor thinking? At the time, there probably wasn't a black clerk, policeman, or high school teacher in the entire country; its slaves wouldn't be freed until years later. (Think about was Carolina, his mother, saying then to Guilherme„ her nominating a black with Cruz e Sousa's credentials for the husband, and to her son, when her child, her little boy, one. same position in Mississippi, 1930's.) It didn't go down at all generation out of Africa, was being applauded by white men, with the slaveholding political establishment; the nomination on the white man's ceremony day? To what god was she was rejected outright. The young man had already made offering? Was it the same as her husband's? Was the brick- enemies with the Brazilian version of the Klan; now it was layer dismayed, proud, fearful? He never got much into official. He left town shortly after. He had nothing. symbolism. The bricks remained always just bricks. Sad star, to reflect in mud and mire, Their son, the black poet, recognized, well-known, was ray of light, to scintillate in dusty space, awarded a scholarship to the best prep school in the province; you've sweetness of curves and rare fire, its large German population believed in education, and had the subtlety and fascination of grace.. brought in a visiting professor (a correspondent of Darwin), ("Heavenly Shelter") several local scholars including an orientalist-priest, a mathematician, and more, all in four languages, counting Latin and Estrela triste a refletir na lama, Greek. A classical education, an atmosphere of learning, raio de luz a cintilar na poeira, illiterate slaves at home, men in chains on the street, his alltern a graca sutil e feiticeira, white class, his black African blood, the legacy of abstract a doceira das curvas e da chama.... thought, Greek philosophy, and the horrors against his people: ("Abrigo Celeste") Joao Cruz e Souza. He had it all. He graduated at the top of his class, began working as a Caught between two cultures, well-received in neither, private teacher, published poetry in the papers at sixteen, helped found a literary journal, was reported to have his way harassed by his country's notoriously repressive elite establishment, barred from any employment worthy of his talents, with the town slave girls, Cruz e Sousa died in poverty at age thirty-six, in 1898. His best work went unpublished until after his death. Today the (Oh I have bloodily loved such flesh poet is recognized as the pioneer of the symbolist movement voluptuous, lethal, full of pain, in Brazil. Like Poe,' Rimbaud, and other masters of the genre, essence of heliotrope and rose, mesh his fundamental experience was that of a reality more mental of tropical essences, warm but profane... than material, more spiritual than physical, more Absolute than contingent; his metaphysic the relation of the former, Virgin, tepid flesh arising in the Orient elements of the Eternal, to the latter, elements of time; his of Dream and of fabulous Stars, poetics based on the presupposition that these ineffable intuibitter flesh, marvelous and opulent, tions can best be evoked indirectly and subtly; that is, symtemptresses of the sun, intensest avatars...) bolically. ("Dilacerations") (O canes que eu amei sangrentamente, 6 voliipias letais e dolorosas, essencias de heliotropos e de rosas de essencia morna, tropical, dolente...
Nothing there is can me overpower and win when silently awakened is my soul... It bursts into flower and will overflow as such immense emotion rushes in.
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
Defendant am I of celestial Sentence, by Love condemned, one who remembers that Love and in the Silence embroiders skies of his thoughts and sins with stars immense.... ("Ineffable!") Nada ha que me domine e que me venca quando a minh'alma mudamente acorda... Ela rebenta em for, ela transborda nos alvorocos da emocao imensa. Sou como urn Reu de celestial Sentenca, condenado do Amor, que se recorda do Amor e sempre no silencio borda d'estrelas todo e ceu em que erra e pensa.... ("Inefavel!") To propose a poem with the title "Ineffable" is to assume paradox at the outset, in attempting to write about that which is impressed but which, by definition, cannot be expressed. Indirectly, the poet is assuming mysticism as a way of knowing, whereby the knower becomes that which is known; the whole mystic tradition proclaims such knowledge can indeed only be experienced, and not demonstrated. Thus the need for symbolic language by the religious visionary, who writes of miracles, fantastic spiritualizations, visionary spectacles, paradoxes, reincarnations, epical confrontations. The historical value of these images is not at all the point, which is rather the lifting of the mind to other levels of reality. Evelyn Underhill, in Mysticism, makes a useful commentary on the technique: "Thanks to the special imagery inseparable from human thinking and human expression, no direct description of spiritual experience is or can be possible to man. It must always be symbolic, allusive, oblique, always suggest, but never tell, the truth... .The greater the suggestive quality ofthe symbol used, the more answering emotion it evokes in those to whom it is addressed, the more truth it will convey. A good symbolism, therefore, will be more than mere diagram or mere allegory: it will use to the utmost the resources of beauty and of passion, will bring with it hints of mystery and wonder, bewitch with dreamy periods the mind to which it is addressed. Its appeal will be not to the clever brain, but to the desirous heart, the intuitive sense, of man."' In Cruz e Sousa's case, the poetic difficulties were exacerbated by his impossible situation in society. Too much suffering can and has made many decide that there is no overall, coherent meaning to be found in merely real-time experience, and search for their meaning in the inner world of religion, philosophy, mysticism or other vehicles of the spiritual life. It's not difficult to suppose that a sensitive poet could fail to find much meaning in a slaveholding society and, in contemplation, find evidence for belief in an Absolute which might subsume even the evils surrounding him. The traditional key to this vision is Faith: See how Pain may transcendentalize your life! So nobly believe, through deep Pain and strife. Transfigure with the force of faith your being that all become divine, that beauty be seeing.... ("Believe!")
BRAZZIL - OCTOBER 2000
Ve como a Dor te transcendentaliza! Mas no fundo da dor ere nobremente. Transfigura o teu ser na forca crente que tudo torna belo e diviniza.... ("Cre!") Of course too Much belief in spiritual values, if made public by a book of poetry, will provoke repression from the materialistic side of the establishment and this in turn will mean more suffering and the need for stronger belief, and then, more repressi n.... As a matter of policy, those who have no ideals must atte pt to destroy any stubborn recrudescence of idealism which hows up. It makes them look bad. The values fou d in these fleeting glimpses of reality are impossible to dem nstrate directly; the difficulty is extensively analyzed by the poet's namesake, Saint John of the Cross: "...mystical heology... secret wisdom.., happens secretly and in darknT, so as to be hidden from the work of the understanding and of other faculties. ..the soul cannot speak of it and give it a name whereby it may be called.. .can find no suitable way or manner or similitude by which it may be able to describe such lof understanding and such delicate spiritual feeling."4 In common wit other works which use symbolism to express the artists' deepest beliefs, Cruz e Sousa's poetry contains almost no eferences to historical, physical persons or places, things or vents. Even a cursory look at his titles indicates his interes s were far from any verifiable circumstance. Consider a s lection of titles from his best work, Last Sonnets, which indi ate themes from the possible world of Absolutes, rather t an from the "real" world of material being: "Immortal ttitude," "Prison of Souls," "Supreme Verb," "God of Evil, "Indecisive Souls," "Celestial Refuge," "Buddhic Ecstasy." 'Prison of Souls" ("Carcere das Almas") re-interprets a basic etaphor for visualizing the good man's dilemma:
Thus in this life imprisoned, every soul sobs in the darkness. behind the bars watching, from down in the dungeon's hole, the outer vastnesses, seas, noons, stars. But all is dressed in celestial clothes when the soul in its chains, as cure, dreams of freedom, then will disclose immortalities in the sublime Space of the Pure. Oh speechless and incarcerated souls held in colossal abandoned cells, seas of Pain in deathly pitless gaols! Which guard from Heaven holds the keys in this lonely silence, without history, to open you the doors of Mystery?! Ah! Toda a alma num carcere anda presa, solucando nas trevas, entre as grades do catabolic() olhando imensidades, mares, estrelas, tardes, natureza. Tudo se veste de uma igual grandeza quando a alma entre grilhOes as liberdades sonha e, sonhando, as imortalidades rasga no etereo Espaco da Pureza.
O almas presas, mudas e fechadas nas prisOes colossais e abandonadas, da Dor no calabouco, atroz, funereo! Nesses silencios solitarios, graves, que chaveiro do Ceu possui as chaves para abrir-vos as portas do Misterio?! The image of the body as prison to the soul is traditional. How much stronger it would have been for a man like Cruz e Sousa, a noble mind wandering among unfeeling and corrupt institutions, a sensitive soul made the butt of an insensitive, power—and status—hungry ruling class. But the dream of freedom, if believed in with enough intensity, becomes a reality; belief in the Mystery of Creation, if firmly held to, becomes the very presence of that Mystery. Milton said it: "The mind is its own place, and in it self/Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n."5 Last Sonnets contains 96 poems, some eighty percent of which include the word soul. The highly personal language, the refined images and metaphors indirectly describe what is everyman's inexpressible interior reality; "From Soul to Soul- (-De Alma em Alma") is typical: You erringly wander from soul to soul; one such sanctuary. then another, choose A mystic secret templar, your role is to contemplate, alone, the souls you use. I know not what harps in you are vibrating, what sounds a Stradivarian pilgrim is creating, recalling sacristy-like veneration, voices murmuring celestial adoration.
But I do know, that from soul to soul, you are lost, seeking that beautiful world, as yet unglossed, of Silence, of Love, and Fascination, So go! Dreamer of noble veneration! The soul of Faith flowers such bright design, even from Death does resurrect and shine! Tu andas de alma em alma errando, errando, como de santuario em santuario. Es o secreto e mistico templario as alma& em silencio, contemplando. No sei que de harpas ha em ti vibrando, que sons de peregrino estradivario, que lembras reverencias de sacrario e de vozes celestes murmurando. Mas sei que de alma em alma andas perdido, atras de um belo mundo indefinido de Silencio, de Amor, de Maravilha. Vai! Sonhador das nobres reverencias! A alma da Fe tern dessas florescencias, mesmo da Morte ressuscita e brilha! Obviously, there is no objective way to demonstrate the real-time existence of any ofthe poet's images. Even the viol in is rare. The reader can only appeal to his own personal experience of ideal values. Whether or not the poet was a fullblown mystic will probably never be determined, but another clue to his inner life is his habitual speaking of his own soul or being in the third person, as if his deepest consciousness were looking at the life of Cruz e Sousa from afar. The practice of seeing one's existential self as not the "really real" or essential self is common advice in the literature from that school known as the mystical, references to which appear often enough in the poetry to hazard that the author was well acquainted with mystical science. "Mysticism" has been defined as a method of search, a science of the Absolute; meditation and contemplation are its basic tools. It is hard to imagine any poet who does not use meditation, though the complete mystic seems to be rarer than the complete poet. T.S.Eliot, for example, was obviously acquainted with much mystic literature, and obviously not a mystic. What he knew, Cruz e Sousa saw. '"De Alma em Alma"("From Soul to Soul"), see below. All quotations ofthe poetry are from Cruz e Sousa, Collected Works, ed. Andrade Muricy (Rio de Janeiro: Editora Jose Aguilar Ltda., 1961. 'Certain lines from the poet could easily be taken for Poe' s(and vice-versa), i.e. from the former: "...mouth of Ophelia dead on the lake,/within the vague dream's halo of light..." ("...boca de Ofelia morta sobre o lago,/dentre a aureola de luz do sonho vago....") "Boca." (New York: New American Library, 1974), p. 126. Dark Night of the Soul, tr. E. Allison Piers (New York: Image Books, 1959), p. 159. Paradise Lost, bk i, 1, 1.254. John Howard has published the translations of several Brazilian poets, and several poems of his own. He has an MA in literature from California State University. Several of his Sao Paulo graffitos can be seen on the Internet at "Art Crimes/The Writing on the Wall." You can reach him at jodeho5ghotmail.com
BRAZZIL • OCTOBER 2000
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