Brazzil - Year 8 - Number 134 - February 1997 by Brazzil Magazine

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FROM OUR COMMUNITY TO OUR COMMUNITY! Participate In The Registration Of New Companies In The Publication Of "OUR GUIDE" (Nosso Guia) 1997-98. IT IS SIMPLE! Just send us a list, Including name, address, telephone number (with area code), and fax number of Local, National and International Companies that belong to our Portuguese-Speaking Community, and which were not listed on OUR GUIDE 1996-97 (all information submited will be checked). We will send you a FREE GIFT for your help, in addition to a copy of the Yellow Pages "Our Guide" . Please, fill-in the following information to receive a FREE GIFT at your work or home. Please retume the additional registrations by mail to: Ill N.E. 1st Street, 9th Floor, Miami, FL 33132 - Or By Fax: 1(800) 300-1178. Name' Address: Telephone, Fax and E-mail: BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

, --Even if to the casual visitor Brazil seems to be engulfed by the omnipresent Yankee culture for the masses — some radio stations, for example, seem to ignore what language Brazilians speak and more than 60% of movies being shown at the beginning of January, in Rio, where Hollywood imports — Brazilian culture is thriving. There is a new crop of films dealing with historical and socially relevant themes. While still modest, the Brazilian book industry is grow-

ing fast. More than 50,000 new tifics were published last year. Compare thlis to the 17,500 book titles released in 1991. Some of our most importait painters like Tarsila do Amaral and Di Cavalcanti are finally getting sore respect from international art collectors and they have been successfully auctioned.at Christie's of New York and London. Theater is still a pastime for an elite, but some good playwrights like Dias Gomes and Mauro Rasi have become household names and they are leading very comfortable lives exclusively thanks to their writings. And in another promising trend, official and private Brazil is learning to take care of Brazil's historical legacy. Right

http://www.brazzil.com now, close to 300 historical buildings and sites — many of them baroque monuments — are being restored to their original glory. By and large, it's a pretty sight. Together with pretty songs like the ones Paulinho da Viola has just released. We have a special article on him and his unadulterated samba. And to match the spirit of the season, we travel North, far away from Rio, to see how is Carnaval in the streets of Recife. Enjoy the folia. R.M.

CONTENTS

Cover

Short story

Our culture is alive and well

Clarice Lispector's Os Desastres de Sofia

Communications

Travel

State is giving up telephone monopoly

Cover by Aylan Mello

DEPARTMENTS

20 Impressions

Getting to know a Pelourinho painter

22 Soccer

Ronaldinho, just the world's best

6 Rapidinhas 16 Letters 45 Short Takes 46 The Cultural Pulse 47 Por al 49 Classifieds 50 U.S.A. Calendar 52 That's Brazilian

Rio de Janeiro for beginners (Part V and last)

40 Music

Paulinho da Viola's samba is back

54 Special

An unforgettable Carnaval in Recife TIME TO RENEW?

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Publisher and Editor: Rodney Mello / Entertainment Editors: Sam & Harriet Robbins / Book Review: Bondo Wyszpolski / Music Editor: Bruce Gilman / Representatives: MIAMI : Nosso Guia (305) 374-0096 - Valeria Mendes (Calendar) / WASHINGTON, DC: Wilson Velloso (Correspondent) (301) 585-6549 / BRAZIL: Celso Sawaia (011) 885-9288 E- mail: csaw4ia@br. homeshopping.com.br 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 (surface mail) in all other countries. No back issues sold. Allow 5 to 7 weeks to receive you 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. POST MASTER : Please, send address changes to: BRAZZIL - P.O. Bqx 42536 - Los Angeles, CA - 90050-0536 BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

00011111qUnr 1\111 11111111111 A Daiwa do Bumbum Sinho Revoluc5o Gilmar do Samba

Cheguei, heim! Estou no paraiso! Que abundancia, meu irmao! Conheci uma menina que veio do Sul Pra dancar o tchan E a danca do tchu tchu Deu em cima, deu em baixo, Na danca do tchaco E na garrafinha deu uma raladinha Agora o Gera Samba mostra pra voces a danca do bumbum que pegou de uma vez Bota a mao no joelho E dá uma baixadinha Vai mexendo gostoso, Balancando a bundinha Agora mexe, mexe, mexe mainha Agora mexe, mexe mexe lourinha Agora mexe, mexe mexe neguinha Agora mexe, balancando a poupancinha Mexe, mexe prum lado Mexe, mexe pro outro Vai mexendo em baixo Vai mexendo gostoso Vai no sapatinho, vai Remexendo gostosinho, vai Ah, que beleza, que maravilha Isso é magnifico, mae!

Incurable

Will this year be better than the last one? The Gallup Institute once again asked this question of people around the world in 46 different countries. Guess who won the optimism trophy? Brazilians -- that's who. Sixtysix percent of them believed that 1997 would be rosier, happier, and more prosperous than 1996. Only 14% said thing would be worse and 20% thought things would be the same. Brazil's optimistic outlook was followed by Romania (61 percent), Georgia (60%), England

The Butt Dance

Entertainment

Showing Her Tchan A conspicuous and striking derriere has made singer-dancer Carla Perez, 19, the sexual dream of Brazil, a land in which the female buttocks reign as the ultimate object of male desire. A pictorial layout of Carla in the Brazilian Playboy provoked an stampede to the newsstands and convinced the magazine editors to unveil her again in this month's issue. She became famous dancing for the baiano (from Bahia) pagode group o Tchan, one of a handful of bands that became successful by joining lively tunes to risque lyrics. In the most famous of these songs, "A Daiwa do Bumbum" (The Butt Dance), Perez sways her best asset all through the music. The band also has the -little cord dance" and the "statue dance", both inspired by children's rhymes spiced up with suggestive lyrics. "F. o Tchan", the first hit for the group that used to be called Gera Samba, sold 800,000 copies. Carla has made national headlines again recently. She was slated to lead Escola de Samba Salgueiro as the Bateria (drum section) Queen, but Mestre Louro, the chief of the Bateria, was incensed at the idea and forbade her participation, despite the fact that she had been invited by the president of Salgueiro himself. "Only those who know about samba get in my bateria," he fumed. In the end, everything was arranged and Carla will parade with Salgueiro, but will display her stuff on a float. What will she be exposing? Her trademark asset, naturally. To those who expected more, she left it clear: "I will be showing my tchan, but not both tchans, only my tchan from behind." The other tchan will be discreetly covered with a cachesexe. Salgueiro's theme this year is "Of Poet, Carnavalesco, and Fool — Everybody Has a Little" and the samba school will be celebrating painters Van Gogh andSalvador Dali with different floats. Pressed to choose one of the artists, Carla decided in favor of Dali, explaining: "This one I know. I am already using the Dali perfume."

I came in! I'm in paradise! What abundance, my brother (play with bunda = butt)! I met a girl who came from the South To dance the tchan And the choo-choo dance Made it up, made it down, In the tchaco dance And on the little bottle, she gave a little rub Now the Gera Samba will show you The butt dance that caught on at once Place a hand on your knee Just lower a little Go shaking it good, Swinging your little butt Now shake, shake, shake little girl Now shake, shake, shake little blonde girl Now shake, shake, shake little black girl Now shake, swinging your little fanny Shake, shake to one side Shake, shake to the other Keep shaking down there Keep shaking good •

Go to the little shoe, go Swaying good, go

"Ah, what a beauty, what a marvel This is grand, mom!"

(5301 and United States (51%). Japan, Holland, and Austria were at the bottom of the barrel. That shows that Brazil has one or two things to teach the First World. Bye-bye, Ape Tiao, 34, was a Carioca celebrity, and his death in December left Rio and Brazil grieving. Rio's mayor Cesar Maia, in one of his last acts before leaving the post to his successor, decreed an eight-day official mourning period, a distinction given only to important figures. The French

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

aim= newspaper, Le Monde, made fun of the gesture, however, on its front page. Maybe because Tido lived in the zoo, maybe because he was a monkey. But Tido was a very special one. He was the main attraction at Rio's Jardim ZoolOgico. He was so popular that in 1988, voters gave him 400,000 votes in the city's mayoral election. The monkey had diabetes, and in the end, a team of three veterinarians and three biologists tried in vain to save him. Ironically, Tiao was — or at least he was made famous as — a politicianhater. He threw trash at both Governor Marcello Alencar and Mayor Maia when they paid him a visit, forcing Alencar to change his shirt after the attack.

Bordello No More In a campaign reminiscent of Big Brother in George Orwell's 1984, Embratur (Empresa Brasileira de Turismo) the Brazilian Tourism Agency, is spreading a new message in billboards, ads, plane tickets and even do-notdisturb signs in hotels: "Be Careful. Brazil Is Watching." In oneshort TV film, a tourist is shown being taken from the airport to prison. The idea is to let tourists know that Brazil will not tolerate those looking for sex mainly with under-age girls, a trade that has become rampant in countries like Singapore and Thailand. Curiously enough, this is the same Embratur that until recently has repeatedly used pictures of scantily clad young girls to promote Brazil overseas. Airline companies, travel agencies, hotels, taxi drivers, and the population in general are being recruited for the current campaign. In one ad for domestic use, the copy says: "Inform on the exploitation of sexual tourism. Your country is not the world's brothel."

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

The Thinker and the Trash Man Rio's justice department has issued a warrant for the arrest of French Philosopher Gerard Lebrun, 66, who is The philosopher

accused of viol* indecent assault against Brazilian mi-

nors. The document was sent to France through the Foreign Ministry, since Lebrun lives in Paris. Lebrun is an expert in German philosopher Immanuel Kant (17241804) and taught philosophy at USP (Univer ity of Sao Paulo) where he was a colleague of president Fernando Hen rique Cardoso. The renowned philosopher,, a self-confe sed homosexual, has been accused by Argenil Pereira 42, a Brazilian garbage man, of ordering pictures showi g children having sex with Pereira. In December, Pereira as caught by police with 20 pictures in which he had si ulated sex with little girls. At his home, the police found letter from Lebrun, including what could be interpreted as solicitation for those lewd pictures. Handwritten in Portuguese, the letter say in part: "I agree 100% with the idea of non exposition: th t would be dumb. By the way, notice that this wasn't m request... So, you maintain the suspense of what this merchandise might be! We will think about an end-of-century version for Little Red Riding Hood, this time in a hurry to serve the wolf and letting the beast examine the menu." "Lebrun loved for me to take him to Copacabana's nightclubs. He was my voyeur," said Pereira. "1 would make it with the women and he would masturbate himself. He used to say that hu-

man beings have the right to be whatever they want to be." The trash man has also declared that he had been offered $1,000 to produce the photos. The philosopher admitted knowing Argenil and even praised the man's intelligence, but denied any wrongdoing, saying that he was not a pedophile and has no interest in girls. ow he is no longer talking. After the Brazilian warrant w s issued, he decided to hire a lawyer.

ElOoLORA00 DO TURISMO SEXUAL mum

King Betrayed Minister of Sports Edson Arantes do Nascimento, better known as Pelle, believes that he has been betrayed. Normally upbeat in public, he has been losing sleep and has even cried before the TV , cameras. "I never imagined I would go through

such an experience," said the minister, after his ministry was accused of corruption by Congressman Augusto Carvalho. Pele's integrity itself was never doubted, but the people accused were personally appointed by the minister ,and he trusted them entirely. Carvalho accuses the Indesp (Institut° Nacional de Desenvolvimento do Desporto or the National Institute for the Development of Sport), the branch of the Sports Ministry responsible for the budget, of several irregularities. Pelle has asked immediately for an audit and promised to fire everybody involved, if necessary. And he also promised to do his job till the bitter end: "I gave my word to the president that I would stay until the end of his administration. Not even I if were invited to manage the New York Metro Stars for $30 million would I go back on my word."

Instructive Bite President Fernando Henrique Cardoso has declared 1997 the Year of Education. The Revenue Service, however, seems to have its own agenda. The Brazilian IRS, in its effort to increase income, has drastically curtailed the expenses for education that can be deducted from personal income tax. While allowing a tuition deduction up to $1,700 per

person (the limit was $1,500 the previous year), the new rules eliminate a series of deductions that existed in 1995, including the acquisition of school books, uniforms, school

mum CUIDADO. 0 BRASIL ETTA DE 01.110. 7

=1113i High-tech Folklore

transportation, and English and computer courses.

Buying Spree Grove Hill is a recentlybuilt luxury condominium in Miami that is actively seeking Brazilians to buy the apartments there. The building administrators have hired Brazilian realestate agents and have prepared brochures and video tapes in Portuguese. And there are many other building projects doing the same. Rich folks from Brazil have been buying Florida real estate since 1990, but the market has increased now with the entry of upper-middleclass Brazilians who also want to join in the fun. Another project known as Ocean Club intends to sell at least 300 of its 832 beachfront apartments to Brazilians. The units cost from $300,000 to $2 million. For the well-to-do Brazilians, that is a bargain even before they are told that interest is around 8% a year and that 80% of the purchase can be financed over 30 years [— an arrangement that is unheard of in Brazil).

Shameful Exit Carlos Luiz Coutinho Perez, Brazilian ambassador to Peru, was in the first group of 38 hostages released by the Peruvian Tapac Amaru guerrillas after their takeover of the Japanese ambassador's residence in Lima. One reason for his quick release was the belief that he would serve as a conduit between the government and the rebels. Two days after being freed, however, Perez was disembarking in Rio after being "called by President Fernando Henrique Cardoso", as the ambassador explained. Palacio do PlanaIto soon distanced itself from the fiasco, declaring that the president

Not even the literatura de cordel, inexpensivelooking booklets published by Northeast folk poets and improvisers, has escaped the computer's lure. Joao Jose da Silva, 74, Brazil's oldest publisher of cordel has just released 25 of his poems, all printed on computer, in a total run of 2,500 copies. Renowned writer Ariano Suassuna, Pernambuco's culture secretary, was jubilant: "This represents a landmark in the history of cordel literature." These booklets, placed on strings (hence the name cordel) for sale, have been experiencing a slow death since the 1960s. Silva bought the computer and two printers with a $10,000 prize he won. The poet continues to write by hand and he is now working on his latest book, A Peleja do Poeta Popular corn o Computador (The Popular Poet's Struggle With the Computer). The recently published booklets cost $1 each. Joao Jose da Silva can be reached by mail at Rua Ana Otilia de Farias, 74, Mustardinha„ Recife, PE. 50751-230 Brazil.

Excerpt: As Bravuras de Everaldo na Casa do Fazendeiro Joao Jose da Silva Os cabras fizeram fogo quase todos de uma vez, Everaldo desviouse corn a maior rapidez e num tombinho que deu dos bandidos matou seis.

Everaldo's Derring-dos at the Farmer's Home The fellows opened fire almost all of them at once, Everaldo escaped with the greatest haste and in taking a little tumble he killed six bandits.

Em cada dos seus revolveres ficou somente uma bala, ele abateu mais dois deles corn a mais perfeita escala (...)

In each of his guns there was only one bullet, he downed two more of them with the most perfect aim(...)

Corn duas horas de luta seis achavam-se estendidos dois deles inda viviam corn todos orgaos feridos (...)

After two hours of fighting Getulio Vargas six were lying prone two were still alive with all organs wounded (—)

had not asked for Perez to return. Peruvian economist Alejandro Toledo, who suggested the names and was also on the list of the first hostages liberated, commented: "It was lamentable, a disappointment." Before leaving for Brussels to spend Christmas with his family, the ambassador declared: 'Our main objective now is to sleep." The weekly newsmagazine 1st° E wrote: "The bones of Baron do Rio Branco must be turning in his grave." The publication was referring to the Brazilian ambassador who is the patron of Brazil's diplomatic service. Rio Branco, whose name was Jose Maria da Silva Paranhos Jr. (18451912), was Brazil's foreign minister from 1902 until he died 10 years later.

Like Father, Like Son Gaacho (from Rio Grande do Sul) farmer Manoel "Maneco” Antonio Sarmanho Vargas, 79, was found dead with a bullet in the heart and a gun at his side on January 15. He apparently committed suicide. On August 24, 1954, his father, then president of Brazil, did exactly the same thing by killing himself with a shot through the heart. He was Getfilio Dornelles Vargas (b.1883), the man who was Brazil's president from 1930 to 1945 and then again from 1951 to his death. Maneco Vargas was on his honeymoon at the presidential palace in Rio, then the nation's capital, when his father shot himself. The president was distressed after being accused of ordering the assassination of opposition journalist Carlos Lacerda. Lacerda escaped with a wounded foot, but his bodyguard was killed. According to friends and

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

relatives, Maneco was not sick or depressed and did not have any serious financial problems. He also did not give any hint that he was thinking about ending his life. A family member suggested that "he was tired of living with hypocrisy." The last surviving son of Getulio Vargas left a note saying: "I don't intend to enter history, but simply let it move on." In his testament/letter 42 years earlier, his father wrote: "Serenely I take the first step on the way to eterni and I leave life to enter history."

Botched in Brazil , In a ranking of product quality from 19 countries, Brazil came in last place, just behind Mexico. "Made in Brazil," according to recent research by the American advertising agency BJK&E and the Gallup Institute, is a synonym for bad quality. Close to 20,000 consumers in 19 countries were interviewed and 40% said they did not know one product from Brazil. Another 26% considered Brazilian products to be of passable quality, and 7% classified them as bad. A mere 1% said the Brazilian goods were excellent. The overall approval rate for Brazilian products was 4.4% (the percentage of people who considered them very good or excellent). Japan, Germany, and the United States won the first three places as manufacturers of quality products. Why the poor Brazilian image? "It might be that people don't know they are buying something made in Brazil," said Francisco Borgoff, president of Borgoff,, one of the

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

research promoters. Brazil is still seen mainly as an exporter of commodities even though the country exported $47.7 billion in manufactured products in 1996.

The Black is Back Health

Blue Book Onde Mora o Perigo (Where Danger Lives) is the name of a booklet prepared by the Brazilian Health Ministry addressing the perils of unprotected sex and AIDS. Using a comic book format, the work does not spare profanities and shows graphic scenes of anal and oral sex. The racy method of dealing with the subject seems understandable since the booklet's intended target public was inmates and prostitutes. However, of the 50,000 pamphlets, 1,000 ended up in an NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) for women and from there were sent to the Golda Meir high school in Rio. Nobody at the school bothered to leaf through the salacious comic book until some students and their parents took offense at the explicit nature of the contents. "This is disgusting," said Ana Fernandes, one of the students. "There was probably a honest mistake," said a spokesperson for the ministry. Not everybody returned the booklet and the "pornographic" piece has become a collector's item. e alno

End of an Era "I would prefer that they would have jus closed it. Now I won't even walk close by," comme ted Rio's Jornal do Brasil columnist Zozimo Barrozo o Amaral when he heard that the famed restaurant Ant nio's had become a Mexican joint decorated with sombreros and cactus with a new moniker: Salza. Opened in 1967 in Leblon, on the south side of Rio, Antonio's became the favorite meeting spot for the so-called festive left and the Carioca intelligentsia all through the 1970s. omposers Tom Jobim, poet Vinicius de Moraes, wri ers Paulo Mendes Campos, Otto Lara Resende, Rubem Braga, all of them deceased, spent many insomniac n' hts there discussing the fate of a Brazil taken by the ilitary. Writer Antonio Callado found there the inspiration for his 1971 novel, Bar Don Juan. Legend has it that on December 13, 1968, the day general Arthur a Costa e Silva dissolved Congress and issued Institutio al Act no. 5 (the infamous AI-5) establishing media c nsorship, Lara Resende issued a bitter invective atop a table at Antonio's. At the end, addressing his words t a possible government informant infiltra.ted among th m he said bravely: "I am not afraid of telling my name. y name is Jose Aparecido de Oliveira." (Oliveira was politician linked to the military).

"The black market is for bandits and doesn't mean a thing anymore," says the Brazilian Banco Central. But after years of decline, the parallel market for the dollar is showing new strength. In December, the dollar was being sold on the black market for $7.75% more than on the commercial currency market. August 1993 was the last time the difference in favor of "the black" was so large.

Four More Years Fernando Henrique Cardoso is one step closer to his dream of being reelected president of Brazil. In January, a Brazilian congressional committee approved by 19 to 11 votes an amendment that would allow a president to be reelected, something currently forbidden by the federal constitution. This was only the first hurdle, however, in what promises to be a long obstacle course. To become law, the amendment has to be approved twice by the full house of representatives and another three times by the senate. Even though Getillio Vargas served as president for a total of 18 years, with exceptional powers, Brazil has never had a president who was reelected. The next presidential elections are scheduled for October 1998.

Guittipe bacck

In movies, plays, music, art, and literature, the Brazilian culture continues more alive than ever. Brazilians have never bought as many books as in recent years and there are a number of movies being made and released right now which deal with Brazilian historical facts and cultural values. New playwrights have been able to fill up theaters all over the country and new poets are finding out their own voice and a public to listen to them. RODOLFO ESPINOZA 10

ny English-speaking individual a little more distracted taken unaware to a Brazilian big city might never notice he left home. Several radio stations seem to ignore any other music but American hits and other less than successful tunes. On cable, people are served the diet Americans are used to, including CNN, HBO and MTV. In movie theaters more than 60 percent of films being shown are from Hollywood. (In the first week of January, for example, of 29 movies being shown in Rio, 18 were American â&#x20AC;&#x201D; including Space Jam, Daylight and 101 Dalmatians â&#x20AC;&#x201D; 3 from England, 3 from France, 2 from Spain, 2 from Italy, 1 from Iran, 0 from Brazil.) They have been translated into Portuguese, but among the 10 bestsellers list are books by Ken Follet, Sam Shepard, Morris West, Scott Adams, and James Redfield. Not to mention the McDonald's, Jacks in the Box and shops naming themselves with cute little Englishsounding names and the Walt Disney characters spread all over. Is the Yankee leviathan going to devour what is left of Brazilian culture? Is America cannibalizing the world and Brazil in the process? The majority of the Brazilian intelligentsia seems to say yes. They accuse the for-the-masses cultural offerings of the US of being shallow, caricatured and unfair in its juggernaut power of marketing their gringo culture. In the 1920s, Brazilian writer Oswald de Andrade (1890-1954) created a movement called Antropofagia (Anthropophagy). His proposal was the deglutition of all foreign influences in order to create a true national art. Back then it was the European cultural dominance that Brazilian intellectuals feared most. This anthropophagic action has never stopped in the musical area for example. But today many intellectuals would prefer seeing Brazil loving itself more and borrowing less from the outside. "Culture in Brazil is a luxury item, " said playwright Alcione Arailjo in an interview with the Jornal do Brasil in December. "The middle class with its pared-down salary has to pay for school, health plan and taxes. Who is going to consume the cultural product? The revolutionary vision for the 21" century is to understand that the only way out during these globalization times is through education BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

and culture." Ara* is one of those who are betting that 1997 will be a watermark year, bringing Brazil back to its own cultural roots. The recent samba boom is just one sign that interest in Brazilian culture among Brazilians is picking up anew. Paulinho da Viola with Bebadosamba (Drunksamba) and Aldir'dianc with 50 Anos (50 Years), two big names of MPB (Musica Popular Brasileira â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Brazilian Pop Music) who had been silent for years, have just released their contribution to the samba comeback. Pagode, samba's very close relative, is also a big hit again and Zeca Pagodinho is back on the charts. Sambista Martinho da Vila is selling more than ever and rocker emeritus Lula Santos is coming out soon with his own samba album. New bands like Aquarela Carioca and N6 em Pingo D'agua are giving chorinho a new lease on life. Brazilian music does not need any presentation, but it has recently received anyway some accolades from music bible Billboard The US magazine has included three Brazilian albums in its list of best of 1996. They are Daniela Mercury's Feirao corn Arroz, Sergio Mendes's Oceano and the sound track for the movie Tieta do Agreste. In an interview with Jornal do Brasil, playwright and director Aderbal Freire Filho talked about his hope that Brazil will soon yearn for art. "Up to the 70s and 80s there was this notion of art as necessary, committed, which mirrored the social utopias. Then, came the idea that no art is necessary. Now, I believe that we will have a phase in which every art is necessary, even art for art's sake, something that's negated by the engage artists. Art will be engage just for the fact of being art, in a utilitarian, inhuman, cruel and anti-artistic society." Writer Silviano Santiago analyzed the literary moment in a conversation with Rio's daily 0 Globo: "In the 70s, everybody wanted to participate in a movement, to launch a campaign, to gather a group around an aesthetic concept. It was that which drew people like (singer-composer) Caetano Velloso, (theater director) Ze Celso, (movie director) Glauber Rocha and (painter) Hello Oiticica. Today, there is no common idea, there is no aesthetic movement, but there is a big interest from the market." Books Brazilians have never read so much. The stabilization of the economy with the introduction of the new currency, the Real, in mid 1994, and lower inflation have created a new legion of readers. In 1994, for the first time the book industry was able to break the barrier of $1 billion in books sold. Commenting about the improvement, Culture minister Francisco Weffort said, "We already have the size of the Spanish market. All we need now is to improve the quality of the books." While 290 million books were sold in 1994, this number had risen to 374 million in 1995, and 420 million in 1996. In terms of earnings this represented $1,261 million in 1994, 1,857 million in 1995, and more than 2 million in 1996. The number of titles published increased from 17,500 in 1991 to more than 50,000 last year. But there is still a lot to grow. With a population of 160 million people, Brazil has only 1,200 bookstores. Five-timessmaller Argentina has 850. The Camara Brasileira do Livro (Brazilian Chamber of Book) is hopeful that the recent interBRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

est in books ill become a trend and will place more books n peoples' homes. The number of readers in Br zil has been so insignificant that a first printing sf3,000 copies is considered a good number. Smaller editions mean also that book prices are cqji.j4era sly higher in Brazil than in the US. 1Ot 5e1 ttle late, compared to what has happened in Eur pe and the US, Brazilian booksellers are also goi g for the-bigger-the-better philosophy. Big Sas Paulo chain bookstores like Atica, Nobel and S raiva are all building and opening megastores i which people have close to 100,000 book titles to choose from and can also buy stationery, CDs an videos. Atica, for example, is spending $20 milli in in its Atica Shopping Cultural to be open in May Saraiva has already opened two of these huge b okstores. In one of them, with 70,000 books, in the birapuera shopping mall, people are able to crui e the Internet in the bookstore's Cybercafe. Despite r cognizing that there has been a recent retraction i the market for books, Culture Ministry's se retary of Exchange Eric Nepomuceno talked about his "cautious optimism" about the prospects for Brazilian culture this year. He seems encouraged â&#x20AC;˘y what he sees as a new attitude by business peo s le who are starting to be aware that financing a ultural work like a play can bring dividends to company. "People do not wait anymore for t e State's sacrosanct role," says Nepomucen s, "neither do they delude themselves with this ne liberal foolishness that the market solves every ing by itself." Presiden i Fernando Henrique Cardoso has started an a arently more adequate way for the federal gove nment to help the arts and culture in the country. aw 8,313, better known as the Rouanet law, has bee improved in a way that businesses now can dis unt up to 5 percent (the limit was 3 percent) of heir federal taxes due to culture. Movies are t e ones that are benefiting the most from the ne law. In 1996, the Culture Ministry budget was i creased to more than $200 million, doubling the $103 million applied in 1995. The Fundo Naci nal de Cultura (National Fund for Culture) wh ch finances public or private nonprofit projec is had its budget tripled to $32 million in '96, too I ttle, however, since the demand for funds last ye r was close to $350 million. The Big Screen In recent y released movies, Brazilian themes have been tr ated with critical acclaim albeit with little popula enthusiasm. Quern Matou Pixote? (Who policeKilled corru Pixote?), from director Jose Joffily, for example, discusses the theme of poverty and tion and brutality. Another kind of violence fr the Brazilian past, the cangago (backlands anditry), has also made it to the big screen thro gh Corisco e Dada by Rosemberg Cariry and aile Perfumado (Fragrant Ball) by Lfrio Ferreir and Paulo Caldas. Several movies to be released 'n 1997 also deal with nationalistic themes. Am ng them, Bruno Barreto's 0 Que E Isso, Compa heiro? (What's the Matter, Partner?) based on Fe nando Gabeira's book of same name that deals wi ih guerrillas and the student movement during the m litary dictatorship in the 60s and 70s. Director. Walter Salles Jr., will be bringing Central do rashl (a reference to Federal railroad company Estrada de Ferro Central do Brasil), a 11

While in fiction; the big• have not changed in a decade** so, there is new blood in poetry. Young poet Pedro Amaral, 4 is being presented by some critieS'as thebest poet , Brazil has produced in many years. Amaral releasedbis first book, Vivido (Vivid), at the endnfl995.)je confesses to have been' influenced by Portuguese Fernando Pessoa (18881935) andl3razilian poets Joan Cabral de Melo Neto (b. 1020) and Carlos „rummoncide Andrade (1902-1987). Jorge ,ViVeiro de Castro, Sette ',etas publishing house's 4004 and 'e person ,,who:discovered'Amaral, says, "1 Wasthe rare case of a writer who didn't look for me. On the trary, it rs Iwho ran after him. He is very meticulous, changing the rhythm of a poem with a semicolonOn3proving even more what alreadywas ver good. `.' The poet loves synthesis an rarely goes 'Over one page when he writes. "i atrf always cutting get to that minimum 'necessary tos what I want, As for women, my rel .tionshipwidttliern is one 4enchan ment and that why therare alwa my poems. I fall in love very ea

Airrecinello 0 biquini convida A brincar de esconder Ele chama, ele instiga A gente a percorrer, No rasto da malicia, A ligeira clivisa, Entre o 'Casto e a delfcia, Entre ver flan vet, londico, nlucida AO menino queo ye Desde onde a vida Desde onde orqufr 12

The bikin invite lay it incites tread, In the, iffalice's path, The tenuous • divide, Between chaste and

Ludie, elucidates To the boy who sees it From where life From where and W..

Another young and respected poet is Antedtio Cicero, who is first a philosopher with a published essay (0 Mundo Desde o Pim — The World Since the End), and who is better known asthe author of many hit songs' lyrics in partnership withiMatina Lima, his singer and composer sister. His first poetry book,,Cruardar (To Keep) was published at the end of 1996 by Record. The poet, who likes to read classic Latin and Greek poets in the original, is a rigorous philosopher and a very sophisticated poet. Talking about the poetic avant-garde in Brazil hi a intrvitw with the daily 0 Estado de Sao Paulo he declared: "I have a deep personal admiration for Augusto and Haroldo de Campos. I am even afraid of saying some things so I won't hurt them, but I have to say. I think that this Poundian hierarchy that places-inventors ott one side and diluters on the other is entirely wrong.,Potryanzot be thought of like that. It's not the novelty, but tpQnUeraDier that counts in poetry. Goethe, for example, ham:, en the first Faust, but he has written the best." He sees music as a place for some poets to write ivithatitteing, ridiculed by the literati: "Composer Chico Buarque deHoltda is a great poet who likes to write traditional verses with rhythe practiced this kind of poetry in a book he would be called reactionary, conservative. But in music he does it and no one can say a thing. Without this outlet, poetic talents like Chico Bu que and Caetan Veloso wouldn't have a way to express thnk and, nlaYhe would even keep quiet."

A sample -:„ uardar uma coisa no é esconde= ou trancd-la. Em cofre nao se guarda coisa alguma. Em cofre perde-se a coisa a vista Guardar uma coisa é olhd-la, fitdla, por admird-la, isto 6, ilumind-la ou ser por ela ilum inado. Guardar uma coisa é vigia-la, isto 6, fazer vigIlia por ela, isto é, velar -aor ela, 'to ri 6, estar acordado por ela, isto estar por ela ou ser por ela. Por isso melhor se guarda o veto de urn passaro do que urn passaro sem v8os. Por isso se escreve, por isso se diz, por isso se publica, por isso se declara e declama urn poema: Para guardd-lo: Para que ele por su guarde o que guarda: Guarde o que quer que guarda um poema: Por isso o lance do poema: Por guardar-se o que se quer guardar

ething is not tnhide it or lock it up. r we don't keep anything. lose sight of something. is to look at to t aze at it, di', tt ja or to be by i illuminated is to watch that ti that is, lie wait for r% that is; be for it. we better keep flight of a bird out flight e, that's w we. s y we pu tiy/we d reap aric To keep ' ct'that it, in turn, what it keept• I keep whatever., a poem keeps: a poem's spirit: For keeping t to keep.

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

Brazilian-flavored road movie. Sergio Rezende's Canudos will retell the 20-year saga of Antonio Vicente Mac iel, the Antonio Conselheiro (Antonio, the Adviser), a holy man who at the end of the last century lead a revolution of thousands against the federal government in the Bahia backlands. Canudos, which had as many as 20,000 residents, was the autonomous town founded by Conselheiro in 1893, four years after Brazil deposed emperor Dom Pedro II and became a republic. Another film of the current crop is Paulp Thiago's Policarpo Quaresma based on Afonso Henriques de Lima Barreto's (1881-1922) book Triste Fim de Policarpo Quaresma (Policarpo Quaresma's Sad End) which is a portrait of Rio at the end of last century. Despite all the enthusiasm of the movie industry and the new releases, for the films it will be an upstream struggle since 1996 was' a very bad year for movies in Brazil. The country counts only 800 screens (compare this to the 29,000 movie screens in the US). In 1996 there was a 30 percent fall in attendance conipared to the previous year. In the 70s, when ticket prices were much lower, theaters made an average of $250 million a year in tickets. This amount has fallen to a meager $90 million with ticket prices between $5 and $8 dollars,. comparable to those in the United States. However, some people in the movie industry are not deterred by this decrease. "The notion that the national film has lost public seems incorrect to me," says Jose Carlos Avellar, veteran film critic and RioFilmes president. "We had 20 Brazilian films distributed commercially in 1996 and I have the impression that there is still a repressed demand from people unsatisfied with the American production's total hegemony." • Bruno Wainer, a young distributor, defends the idea that "the public doesn't care if the movie is French, Brazilian or American. All they want is a good movie, he says. Producer Luis Carlos Barreto, the chief of a clan that is an integral part of the motion picture industry in Brazil, also disagrees' that there is no public for Brazilian films: "We were able in the past to corner 55 percent of the film market. What happened? We stayed six years off the market, and the foreign movies, mainly American, took over the screens. Now we are recouping the time. lam sure that at the end of 1997 Brazilian movies will have conquered from 35 percent to 40 percent of the market." Barreto criticizes those who make movies only to please the critics. "We need to start making popular, narrative movies. The critics are making a big mistake. They label as a soap opera every film that doesn't present an exhibitionism in language." Since February 1995 when Fabio Barreto's 0 Quatrilho — the film won a nomination for an Oscar as the best foreign movie, the first time this BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

happened to a irazilian film — started a new era in Brazilian movies through the use of the new federal audiovisual law, more than 30 films have been shot and released.1 Between 1975 and 1979, the most productive time for Embrafilme, the federal organ that was closed by President Fernando Collor de Mello, only $75 million a year was being invested by the govern4ient in movies. In the last two years, the industry hs raised around $50 million through private financ g. Behind m ch of this revival there is Italian Bruno Stroppiana, 49, a superproducer. He was the man who ma 1e possible the shooting of Caca Diegues's Tiea do Agreste last year and he is involved in at last four other megaprojects: Estorvo (Impediment) based in Chico Buarque de Hollanda's book. to be directed by Ruy Guerra, For All with direction of Luiz Carlos Lacerda and Buza Ferraz and $8.5-million superproduction 0 Xango de Baker Street based on Jo Soares book of same name, to be directed by Miguel Faria Jr. Stroppiana has put all of his money into making movies. "When the Brazilian motion picture industry fell part in 1990," he revealed, "I bluffed. I continued to work under the name of Sky Light, distributing only foreign movies, since there were no national films." The most populous and powerful state ofthe Union, Ski Paulo, which is the industrial center of the country, is also trying to assert its cultural leadership, a position it always disputes with former federal capital Rio de Janeiro. Filmmakers were enthusiastic when Bovespa (Bolsa de Valores de sao Paulo— SAD Paulo's Stock Market) started to trade certificates of aud visual investment last December. Governor M rio Covas announced a $4 million program to b distributed to 11 films selected by PIC (Programa de Integra* Cinema e TV -Program of Cinema and TV Integration). While this kind of money might seem negligible by Hollywood standards, it can mean a lot in Brazil where a feature-length film can be made for less than a million doll s. In 1949, on average, a movie already cost rhore than one million to be produced in Hollywoo , nowadays the price has risen to an average of $ 0 million. One mon after the announcement of the program, five mvies had already benefited from it: Walter HuGo Khouri's Paixao Perdida (Lost Passion), Ricardo Dias's Fe (Faith), Aurelio Michiles's 0 Cineasta da Selva (The Jungle's Filmmaker), Ugo Giorgettf's Boleiros (Scoundrels), and Hector Babenco's Vihte Anos Depois (Twenty Years Later). Khouri's movie is budgeted at a mere $1 million and shootingi should start in March. According to Ivan Negro, PIC's coordinator, the program is to create a movie pole in Sao Paulo and establish co-production with TV stations the same way this is done in France, Italy and the US. Filmmaker rlos Reichenbach has hailed the initiative. In an nterview with the daily Folha de Sao Paulo he de ared, "This program is exemplary to 13

prove that TV can a be a partner since it is already a consumer of films. This is very important because I believe that quality is the result of quantity." He has applied for the program's money with his script Dois Corregos (Two Brooks). World-renowned Berlin's International Festival of Cinema which takes place this February between the 13 and 24 is presenting a special section with the recent crop of Brazilian movies. They include close to a dozen movies like Jose Arafijo's SellaÂ° de Memorias (Backlands of Memories), Bia Lessa's Crede-Mi (Believe Me), Murillo Salles's Como Nascem os Anjos (How Angels Are Born). Compare this to the Brazilian participation in the Festival in 1995. Then, from the three socalled Brazilian movies none had been shot in the country or was spoken in Portuguese. The Arts Documenta, the German art show held every five years in the town of Kassel, is the world's largest and most important contemporary art exhibit. When it opens its doors next June 21, at least three Brazilians will be sharing space with the best the art world has to offer. They are world-renowned Helio Oiticica, Lygia Clark, both dead in the 80s and Carioca (from Rio) Antonio Jose de Barros Carvalho e Mello Mourao, better known as Tunga, 45, a performancing artist who will be presenting among other works his Crime da Mala (Suitcase Crime). Already shown in New York, the live art consists of seven young and blond men dressed in black and carrying a black suitcase. Every time they open the suitcases broken pieces of sculpture representing people fall on the floor. In another performance, a group of seven naked young girls will get inside a room and then walk up to little mounds of argyle against which they will press their vagina to leave there their sex imprint. Tunga is also a sculptor who uses copper, plumb or iron to make jars, calices, and his obsessive theme: tresses. He studied architecture, but he never finished the course. Brazil has never produced a great name in the arts as it has in music, literature or architecture. But, recent art auctions in London and New York have shown that Brazilian artists are starting to get some respect in the world. Last November, Christie's of New York auctioned 26 paintings and drawings by Di Cavalcanti (18971976), Candido Portinari (1903-1962) and ItalianBrazilian Alfredo Volpi (1896-1988) , three of Brazil's best modern painters, getting $2.1 million for them, double of what was anticipated by the event organizers. Di Cavalcanti's Mulheres corn Frutas (Women With Fruit) brought $650,000. The painter had never sold any work before for more than $500,000. The painting was bought by 14

Argentinean art collector Eduardo Constantini who in 1995 had acquired Tarsila do Amaral's (18861973)Abaporu for $1.43 million, a record price for a Brazilian painting. There is still a long way before the Brazilian art becomes accepted. The best Colombian and Mexican painters are sold for $3 million and more. In a recent article about sao Paulo's Bienal, the British magazine The Economist classified Brazilian painting as "mediocre". The Stage For the good theater professional there does not seem to be any lack of work. Despite all the criticism against TV Globo network, which feeds Brazil with a daily diet of several prime-time soap operas, nobody denies its merit in making Rio a flourishing place for theater. There are all of those actors and actresses in between novelas raring to work on the stage. Veteran actress Fernanda Montenegro, 67, 47 of them on stage, for example, has her agenda taken up until 1998. She is shooting right now Walter Salles Jr.'s movie Central do Brasil. In March she starts taping her participation in a Globo network novela (soap opera). She stars in the Anton Pavlovich Chekov's play The Seagull, June in Salvador (state of Bahia). In the ensuing months she will also be Molly in the Irish Brian Friel play of same name and Coco Chanel in a play written by Paulista (from Sao Paulo) playwright Maria Adelaide Amaral. "There was a time in which the actor belonged only to the theater," says Montenegro. "Afterwards came movies and the theater, and radio, but the theater continued to be the base. Then came TV, ravenous. And today the beast called an actor is available as long as he wants it. There is a myriad of possibilities, even from the point of view of economic survival." Going to the international front, off-Broadway could be soon showing a work by one of Brazil's most prominent playwrights. Alfredo Dias Gomes has recently traveled to New York to negotiate the rights for Roque Santeiro (Roque, the Saint Maker), a play that has been having full houses in Rio. It was Leon Lydey, the translator of the play into English in the 1970s, who suggested that the work be brought to New York. It would not be anything extraordinary, however. Roque Santeiro had its world premiere in 1976 in the US, when the text was still known as 0 Berco do Heroi (The Hero's Cradle). Ironically, the play was sponsored by the Brazilian embassy in Washington at the same time that the Brazilian military regime had forbidden the play to be shown in Brazil. Gomes had two other plays shown on New York's offoff-Broadway: 0 Pagador de Promessas (Keeper of Promises) and 0 Santo Inquerito (The Holy Inquisition). Dias Gomes has become better known these days by his socially-aware TV novelas (soap operas). The Underground The alternative press, which was an important BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

At times it seems as if the theater in Brazil these days is being double-handedly saved by Mauro Rasi, and Miguel Falabella, both comic playwrights. Together they have half dozen plays 'being put on all over the country, all very successful. They started together in a loose theatrical movement called besteirol (bunch of silliness) and have become very prosperous writers, directors and producers. Rasi, 46, considered the best comedy writer in Brazil right now, and a master in creating unforgettable characters, had three works playing simultaneously in Rio and So Paulo at the beginfling of the year: Perola (Pearl — the daily routine of a country L, family in the 50s), A Dama do Cerrado (The Savannah's Lady what happens when a woman after a 20-year affair with a politician decides to tell the story to her hairdresser), and As Tias do Mauro Rasi (Mauro Rasi's Aunts —based on the authors' own 4 four aunts). In all his plays, the author talks about his family. In Perola, - his most successful work, with 400,000 tickets sold in two years, the main character is based on Rasi's own mother who died in 1993. Even though going to the theater — despite all the campaigns to popularize it -- is still limited to the elite, Rasi is getting rich writing and directing plays. According to the weekly newsmagazine Veja, the playwright is getting a $120,000 monthly , check for the copyrights and ticket sales from his plays. These three plays alone have already brought to the theater 800,000 people. Today he , brings more people to the theaters than Marcos Caruso whose Trair e Co car E So Come car (To Betray and to Scratch All You Have to Do Is to Start) is being presented for 11 years and has already sold 1.6 million tickets. Curiously, Rasi lived from his father's allowance until he was 37. At age 18 he moved to Paris and from there to New York, with the excuse that he was learning piano. In Paris he decided he wanted to be the Jean Paul Sartre of Brazil and in .the Big Apple he found out that his family could be a source of inspiration for a career as a playwright. At 20 he was back in Brazil. Success did not come immediately though. Ladies da Madrugada (Ladies of Dawn), his first play which mixed Carmen Miranda and Evita Peron, was a flop. His first hit would come in 1987 with A Cerimeinia do Adeus (The Farewell Ceremony). Falabella Miguel Falabella, 38, son of intellectual parents, who got a degree in English literature, has as many friends as foes and he is often disparagingly called "mean blonde". Falabella has become famous for his memorable and effective phrases and well-concocted plots. Three of his plays were being shown in Rio in January. Loiro, Alto, Solteiro, Procura (Blond, Tall, Single, Searches), Como Encher urn Biquini Selvagem (How to Fill Up a Wild Bikini) and Todo Mundo Sabe que Todo Mundo Sabe (Everybody Knows That Everybody Knows) three comedies dealing with loneliness and the stresses of the big city. The author seems to be all over these days, as playwright, newspaper columnist, soap opera writer, actor, director and producer, TV star. And he is full of new projects for 1997, including taking to the big screen his play Querido Mundo (Dear World), writing a new play based on his family and love-affair memories already baptized as Motivos Florais (Floral Motives) and opening the Teatro Miguel Falabella at the NorteShopping in Rio. He is also in negotiations to bring A Partilha (The Partition) -' to Broadway. BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

way of spreading ideas and publishing poem during the 70s, is having a revival with a t ist. While these publications were many tines artisan copies made by mimeograph, m ch of so-called underground press nowada s has nothing of underground. Some lik Inimigo Rumor (Enemy Rumor) and Iten have slick covers and daring graphic pr jects. They deal with arts (Item), theater (0 Percevejo), literature (Inimigo Rumor, Caderno de Literatura Brasileira) and culture in general (0 Carioca, Remate de Males, Revista da USP). With 150 pages and sold for $15 in libraries, Inimigo Rumor started publication in January. The magazine published by Sette Letras bookstore intends to divulge poetry from unknown and renowned poets. A similar formula has been used with succe s by 0 Carioca, a literary magazine crated in Rio in January that has already be ome a cultural institution of the city. Ec tor Chacal explains: "0 Carioca intends to ecord the culture that is made in Rio. It's an affirmation of the young culture, but we not afraid to pay homage. Our first issue ebrated the Carnaval blocos like Suvaco Cristo (Christ's Armpit)." Another way Brazilians are preserving ir culture is by taking care of their historic monuments. At the end of 1996 there were more than 250 historic buildings being restored across the country. Thanks to private effort and government grants neoclassical structures, baroque churches and a number of other landmarks are being brought back to their past glory. While five years ago, projects dealing with historic monuments represented 1 percent of all the money applied by private companies in the cultural field, today this amount has jumped to more than 40 percent. From $87 million allotted to the Culture Ministry as a supplement for the 96-97 period, $60 millibn were allotted to the restoration of histcric buildings. Ouro Preto in Minas Gerais, a historic city, with 32 churches from the XVII centdry, has become a shining example of what preservation can do to a place and to the pride of its inhabitants. Its San Francisco de ssis church, for example, the masterpiece of Ant6nio Francisco Lisboa, the Aleijadinho (Crippled One) the most important sculptor Brazil has ever produced, has reg ined all of its original splendor. Many other churches and buildings with t e help of government and private compan es have also been restored. Tourism has p'cked up in the city. Rio has renovated its iblioteca Nacional and Salvador (Bahia) recuperated a whole neighborhood known as Pelourinho, in 1993 at a cost of $30 Million. Thanks in part to this work Salvador has seen an increase of 100,000 tourists a year. Even the New York Times praised the effort. s 15

Brazzil sh ouIdot be deterred byharassment from those who would have the world believe that Brazil is a wonderful paradise, the kind which the tourist sees on postcards. To be sure, it has wonderful weather, fantastic music, an unbelievable culture dating back to forever, beautiful scenery, some of the most handsome people in the world, etc., etc., etc. Surely a paradise. But, it also has the quirks which make it so marvelous. The article on bureaucracy highlighted some of the truly Brazilian aspects which make the country delightful. f love Brazil and the unique things which make it what it is. I love everything which removes me from the humdrum nature of many other places in the world. Keep up the good work with articles which are not only delightful, but also realistic. Frank A. Harris Washington, DC

SPARE THE INNOCENT In reference to your article -A la Lorena", reporting on a series of Brazilian men who had their sexual organs mutilated by their partners, we would to like to mention the pain of the victim. The media is revictimizmg these men and missed an excellent opportunity to be ethical. Omitting the name of the victim would not change a thing for the understanding ofthe facts. In these cases, the damage should be minimized. If the fact is news, the media should be careful so the iictiin of a crime won't be punished with a publicity stunt that's so indelible as the original crime. The Vit6ria's shopkeeper had his penis reimplanted, but he will have a hard time getting over the secondary crime committed by the media.

Sergio Gusintio InstitutÂ° Gutemb erg Silo Paulo, Brazil

HARD TO SWALLOW I have read -Broken Promises by Saulo Petean about the Kayapo Indians and The Body Shop (Brazzil December '96) and having spent time with the Kayapo, Pykati-re, Paiakan and Saulo Petean in Pucanu, Aukre, Kobenkocre and a couple of other villages, I find it virtually impossible to reconcile what I saw with my own eyes and much of what Saulo was claiming in his article. Just for the record, I am with the Body Shop in Canada.

Quig Tingley Toronto, Canada

judicial proceeding is ready to be taken to trial since 1993 when the judge indicted the murderer couple. The Brazilian legislation allows defen-, dants to apply for a hundred of extra appeals in order to indefinitely postpone the trial. In Brazil, it is common that murderers are put on trial seven, 10 years after the crime was committed. It's no accident that criminality has reached this point in Brazil: the total impunity feeds it.

GlOria Perez Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

APPROVED IN BRAZIL I am renewing my subscription to your excellent magazine at a price no one who loves Brazil and cares for things Brazilian will be in a right mind to refuse. I have enjoyed reading your articles both English and Portuguese. They keep me abreast with the modern Brazil and the ever lively Brazilian life that I have known and loved. This is my best way de matar saudades and, believe it or not, I send your magazine to my friends in Brazil and they have written me back and given their approval as well as great surprise to find your articles a lot more objective, serious, and entertaining than what they read in the local press. More power to you and keep sending me this great magazine. Maybe, by the time my subscription expires, I'll be back in Brazil with my beloved Brazilians.

Pe. Miguel B. Alciintara St. Matthias Church Chicago, Illinois

BRAZIL FAN I I am a journalist with the Voice of America in Washington, D.C.. I am very interested in getting to know more on Brazil, its culture, people, society and history. I am also learning Portuguese for personal and professional growth. Please send me some information on Brazil and Brazilian cultural societies here in the United States.

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SKIP THE TRANSLATION It was such a joy to find out a little slice of Brazil here in the United States. I know there are other publications about Brazil, ' but with Brazzil my husband, who is American, will be able to know it all without needing a translator. myself.'

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THANKS & THANKS Thank you for your excellent magazine. Please renew my subscription for two years. This way, I do not have to worry about missing any issue for the next two years. If you need someone to proofread the magazine or to help in any other way from San Francisco, please feel free to contact me. Your magazine under whatever name, continues to improve. Thanks for such a wonderful publication. I look forward to receiving the next issue. *.

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TOO LATE? It's a pity that you chose to call your magazine Brazzil. I think 'Brasil' or 'Os Brasileiros' would have been more adequate and, besides, more descriptive. But, unfortunately, maybe it's too late. From a devout reader.

Raymond W. Goodenough West Palm Beach, Florida

BRAZIL FAN II This is a wonderful magazine! I discovered it on line and I cannot wait to receive the first issue. I love Brazil and its culture. I am sending my check immediately.

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SOUL MATES Thanks to Brazfil I got in contact with a

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guy who lives six months in the state of Washington and six months in Brazil. I was very happy to hear from him and we still write to each other. He is another person whose soul is Brasileira just like mine. Please let those people interested in promotiiw Brazilian culture and music to write me. Iciu will be surprised by the potential we have here in the Northwest, but we need support to make it happen.

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Hangin On t Sta In Brazil you own a phone like you own your car. And while used car prices fall, used phone prices only rise. To buy a phone is a great investment. You cant get a telephone in Rio or Sao Paulo very quickly. With $3,000 you can get yourself a cellular in no time at all and, depending on the line location, $3,000$6,000 will buy a conventional telephone line. The alternative is to pay more than $1,000 in monthly installments in the so-called selffinancing plans. But then you will have to wait years for an actual line. All of this should change soon. EMERSON LI.J1S Brazil ranks tenth in Latin America in the number of telephones per capita, with 10 telephones for every 100 people. In Sao Paulo, South America's largest city, the situation is only slightly better with 15 lines per 100 inhabitants. As a result, there are 10 million hopeful people on waiting lists to get a conventional telephone line in Brazil and seven million more hoping to put their hands on a cellular telephone. After paying hundreds of dollars, their wait could last up to three years. And these are the lucky ones, since there are millions more who were not even able to secure a place in line. In Brasilia, the nation's capital, there are 400,000 residents who have paid for mobile phones and now are waiting to receive them. In the greater Sao Paulo area there are another 460,000 people in the same situation. Since November 1994, in Sao Paulo itself, people cannot even apply for a telephone line. When Telesp, the Sao Paulo state phone company, begins selling lines once more, up to three million people are expected to apply for them. To begin solving this chronic lack of telephones, the government would need to invest at least $8 billion a year, but it has not committed more than an average of $3.5 billion for the last few years. For some time now, privatization of the telecommunications industry has been presented by the government itself as the only solution to this predicament. But the process has been slow and much depends on the political will of Congress, which has the last word on the matter. Telebras, the federal agency that monopolizes communications in Brazil, has been a national and inexhaustible pork barrel for politicians seeking to reward their protégés. There is much hope, however, that 1997 — the eve of the 21" century — will witness the start of a process that will usher the telephone service in Brazil into the 20 th century. The Camara dos Deputados (House of Representatives) has approved a law that allows the participation of private capital in the telecommunications business since May 1996, but nothing will change for some time. The lengthy process of opening the market is starting with the sale of only the B-Band part of the spectrum for cellular telephones. (The A-Band will continue to be operated by the state for now.) These concessions from the government will be granted for 15 years, and if everything works as planned by the Communications Ministry — and few people believe it will the first concession contracts should be signed by June and the first BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

private cellular telephone companies should be operating at the end of this year. The overly optimistic minister of communications, Sergio Motta, believes that private telecommunications companies will invest at least $8 billion by the end of 1997 and that, by December, 5.5 million Brazilians will have their cellular telephones, a number double that of cellular phones now available. Motta is working with these unrealistic deadlines in an apparent attempt to pressure Congress to approve additional laws that will facilitate a broader privatization of the communications sector. He wants, for example, the Lei Geral (General Law) which would establish the ground rules for privatization, to be ready by April. No one believes this to be even a remote possibility. One of the skeptics, Boavista bank director Graca Paiva, declared to the daily newspaper 0 Estado de Sao Paulo: "In 1996, we wasted time with endless postponements. This year has to be one of definitions. The investor who wants to apply in the sector will not be waiting until Brazil decides for privatization. To not make a decision fast is to miss the appreciation jump." Responding to the critics, the Communications Ministry's executive secretary, Renato Guerreiro, declared: "Brazil is getting into the train of history as a locomotive and not as a wagon." Minister Motta also would like to start privatization of the communications sector before the end of the year, "and by the end of 1998, complete the privatization of the system, or at least make it irreversible," as he declares in a document called "The Changes in the Communications Sector. Communications in Brazil are currently centralized at Telebras, which serves more than 90 percent of the national telecommunications network (some state and municipal companies do the rest). It is also the holding company for 27 state subsidiaries and Embratel, the long-distance and international carrier also in charge of the Internet service in the country. The privatization will begin with Embratel and Sao Paulo's Telesp, the largest Telebras' subsidiary, which represents more than 30 percent of Brazil's 15 million telephone lines. The sheer size of the industry's potential is causing the world to salivate over the Brazilian telephone market. The biggest names in telecommunications from the United States, Europe, and Asia are lining up in the hope that Brazil will have close to 60 million telephones by the year 2003. According to American Pyramid Research, Brazil will spend $79 billion in the next three years on telecommunication services and equipment. The Communications Ministry has forecast $100 billion in government and private investment in the sector over the next seven years. The government alone expects to receive $15 billion from the sale of the state telephone monopolies and licenses for cellular services. The ten concessions to be sold nationally for cellular networks will bring from $2 to $3 billion to the government coffers. It is estimated that there will be 350 million cellular phones in the world by the year 2000. Ten million of them will be in Brazil. "Brazil is the BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

biggest mar et for the cellular phone in Latin America," sa s Mark Shultz, AT&T's vice-president for inte national development and operations. According to him, Brazil is the number one priority at the American giant. AT&T, together with its Brazilian partners, Globo and Bradesco, intends to invest $400 million of a total of $1 lillion if it wins its bidding for a cellular con ession. Five An*ican telecommunications companies have already joined forces with Brazilian firms in order to get at least apiece of the action. They are, in addition to AT&T, Air Touch (together with Empresa Folha da Manila, Stelar Telecom, and Unibanco), BellSouth (with 0 Estado de Sao Paulo, Rede Brasil Sul, and Safra bank), Southwestern Bell (with AG Telecom, General Electric, Mannesmann, and Monteiro Aranha) and GTE (with Sistema Brasileiro de Televisao and Mitsui). Also joining in the contest are Bell Canada, Telia from Sweden, DDI from Japan, Stet from Italy, Millicon from Luxembourg, Hutchinson from Hong Kong, and Korea Telecom and Korea Mobile Telecom, both from South Korea. The removal from the state's hands of the long-distance and international services now monopolized by Embratel will also generate immense interest. This is a very lucrative sector and Embratel has seen its monopoly eroded by US telephone companies that offer much cheaper service through the so-called "call back." Brazilians call 4 special number in the US, let the phone ring once, then hang up. The American service returns the call, thus completing the connection as if it were being done in the States. "Our priority is to get more involved with Brazil," said American MCI's senior vice-president for international affairs, Lawrence Codacovi. With offices in Brazil since 1992, Sprint, another US firm, has joined forces with German Deutsche Telekom and French France Telecom to create the Global One company. While Embratel does not share the benefits, Global One is investing $10 million in Internet service. "If there was a long-distance license open for competition in Brazil, we would be investing in it right now," said Francisco Loureiro, president of Global One. It will take some years before the monopoly of the 27 subsidiaries of Telebras is broken and the companies are reconfigured into several groups across the country. Industry observers are already calling the future entities "babybras," since the Brazilian privatization plan is being modeled on the breakup of the AT&T monopoly in the US that produced the seven "Baby Bells." It is not clear, however, how such a division would be made. If a geographic criterion is chosen, it is probable that the companies with the choicest markets â&#x20AC;&#x201D; like those from Telesp in Sao Paulo and Telerj in Rio â&#x20AC;&#x201D; will also have to accept less developed regions, so the whole country can be served without regard for market size. â&#x20AC;˘ 19

You could almost call it an art traffic jam, of the colonizers attempts to crush these beliefs, Brazilian-style. From the Portuguese, Salvador the orixas and their veneration prevailed, and got splendid rococo churches with still clamor for the Brazilian gold tabernacles, silver candlesticks, soul. and wooden Christs covered with In one of the paintings, blood drops made from rubies. From "Danca do Sol" (Dance of the Africa came the congo drums and a Sun), black figures celebrate love for rhythm that springs from the so joyously that a white light fingers of a musician sitting in the radiates from their bodies. In shadow of a shop and plucking the another painting, Ogum the string of a berimbau. warrior raises his shield with a Hard to believe the Pelourinho, painted face of brown, blue and the old section of Salvador, once yellow slashes. From another hosted the colonial spectacle of pubcanvas bursts Xango, god of lic floggings; the word "pelourinho" thunder, with fire leaping from means whipping post. No more. his head. As I admired the Nowadays, the tourists have conpaintings, a young man in quered it, and many of the Pelo's dreadlocks and a dashiki tunic artistic wares bear a gentle reminder stepped into the restaurant folthat us mortals must respect the recklowed by a cluster of small I arrived at the Pelourinho on lessness of fate. To ward off the evil boys. The boys ran into the Sunday night. The square eye, one can purchase a figa, a good back room, playing, and the exploded with the sound of luck charm in the shape of a clenched young man introduced himself Olodum drums and dancing hand with the thumb stuck between as Jorge de Olinda, the orixa bodies, couples making out, and portrait painter. the pointer and middle finger. The little boys groping for brash carrancas — carved wood Olinda joined me at my wristwatches. My hunger led me table. His face, with vibrant heads of jagged-teeth half-dragonhalf-man that once protected boats to a narrow doorway, and into a dark skin and high cheekbones, against water demons — will guard had that Brazilian openness, small café decorated with reed homes or shops from marauding bad rattan and woody-colored batiks. and his smile showed somekarma. But for the serious artist, inmissing teeth. The frolicking Reggae music pouring from a spiration emerges not from the tourkids ran back into the restauspeaker in the corner of the ist shops, but from frustration and rant and one of them, his son, room, drowned out the drums chaos. came over and sat on my lap. outside. I sat down for a beer. I arrived at the Pelourinho on The food arrived including dinSuddenly I realized I was Sunday night, and ran into the weekly ner for the small one. Olinda surrounded by the watchful eyes fed him spoonfuls of rice and Olodum concert. A flatbed truck, a loudspeaker and a few amazing of the orixas. beans while he talked about drummers was all it took. The square his art. I referred to his portrait KATHLEEN DE AZEVEDO exploded with the sound of Olodum that dominated the others, drums and dancing bodies, couples "Exu 0 Mensageiro" (Exu the making out, and little boys groping Messenger). Exu, with his brilfor wristwatches. Most of the liant red lips and a red shirt, restauranteurs seemed to have closed holds a bottle and a pitchfork up shop and joined the party, but while contemplating a salmonupon arriving in Salvador after a colored sky. Isn't Exu equated long bus ride from Ilheus, I had to with devil? I asked. Olinda eat. My hunger led me to a narrow turned sharply to the painting, doorway, and into a small café decohis dreads brushing his shoulrated with reed rattan and woodyders, and passionately corcolored batiks. Reggae music pourrected me. Not quite, he said. ing from a speaker in the corner of In Africa, Exu was a messenthe room, drowned out the drums ger to the gods. A sacrifice outside. made to a particular orixa was The kitchen was closed here too, first made to Exu who in turn but the proprietor offered to cook carried the prayers onward. In some rice, beans, and meat. Good Brazil, Exu's qualities became deal. I sat down for a beer. Suddenly more sinister once the slave I realized I was surrounded by the trade came into the picture. watchful eyes of the orixds. The The slaves used Exu's other paintings that hung on the café walls, attributes — his wiliness and paid homage to this pantheon of gods love of witchcraft — to resist from the African-Brazilian religion. their white masters. African slaves, shackled together in Later that night, after we the holds of Portuguese ships, brought the orixas finished talking about paintings and the diffiwith them to roam free in the new land. In spite culty of Brazilians getting travel visas, I left the

Under the Gods' Eyes

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

cafe, much the way I leave so many artists, with admiration but not enough money to buy their art. A week later, I met Olinda again in the Pelourinho, standing in front of the dazzling blue lgreja Nossa Senhora do Rosario dos Pretos, a church built by slaves for their people. His loose white clothes glowed under the streetlights and he held two large paintings. This time, he cast his eyes away from me, and looked over at people climbing the cobblestone hill up to the square. It's too discouraging, he shrugged, to work for many years, yet still be poor. To be successful, an artist either must go to Sao Paulo or Rio, or settle for painting tourist souvenirs. Many people, even friends, he said, like his paintings, even offer to buy them, but never do. He glanced at me with a knowing nod, a light but important brush stroke. Then he ambled over to the steps of the city museum and set his paintings down. The Pelourinho savored one of its quieter nights, and I could hear the groups of men sitting on the steps and talking in soft rolling voices, and the sizzle from the vendors toasting cheese slabs over coffee cans stoves. Olinda continued, I must be crazy to keep painting, but I need to paint what I want. I don't drink or smoke cannabis like my other friends, and I have to paint. But I have two kids, a wife. I sell my paintings for $350, because no one would buy them for $750. He told me of the many unnoticed artists here. He motioned to a man with a fine set of dreads carrying a gold cardboard tube slung around his back. He came over, uncapped his gold tube and pulled out several canvases, letting loose a splash

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of mystical faces painted in greens and dark blue surrounded by flowers and gold ankhs. Olinda then motioned to another man chatting to a group of fiends. The man saw Olinda, nodded, slipped into a doorway, and re-emerged with a painting. His canvas depicted workers, two women and one man all with bulky strong arms. The artist, who seemed a bit older and more matter-of fact, said he is impressed with hands and arms as they are the means of working in Bahia. I found myself comparing his figures to the broad-shouldered peasants of Diego Rivera, and the soft earth colors to early works of Picasso. I am an academic, he admitted, so I have sold a few paintings. But he ruefully admitted that people recognized his style from somewhere else and he became popular by default. I thought, did I not compare his paintings as well? But then again, artists need to blend the colors of humility with pride to survive. Olinda sat down bitterly between his two big paintings. It's no use, he said, artists are not respected in the world. He held his two paintings and showed them to the street. The street would approve of the paintings' honesty. One in particular, "Quem Matou Joao?" (Who Killed John), portrayed a merry Salvador cityscape with children playing among the ornate churches and red-tiled houses. But look closely. In the corner of the painting is a murder in progress. A group of figures surrounds the tiny tortured figure of Joao splattered in blood, and taking his last tumble in the air. It is said that all paintings are self-portraits, and this one is no exception.

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Ronaldinho Superstar Well-behaved, patient with the media and autograph seekers, Ronaldinho is not the spoiled rebel athlete that professional sports have become plagued with. He loves to play soccer and he shows it. In Spain, he is treated like a pop star wherever he goes. Legions of admirers follow him when he leaves Barcelona's training facility. Hysterical teenage girls swoon over his shaved head and boyish smile. Ronaldinho torments opponents with his ability to hold the ball and dribble through or past a swarm of defenders. He has been compared to legendary Pele, but the young player can be humble even when he says that all he wants is to be the world's best soccer player today.

Like all great players, he needs only one name. But unlike his style, his nickname is nothing fancy, nothing special. He is simply Ronaldinho, the 20-year-old man-child who emerged from the poverty-stricken suburbs of Rio de Janeiro to capture the heart of Brazil and turn the soccer world upside down with his dazzling moves, punishing strength, and spectacular talent. Voted 1996's best player in the world by the International Federation of Soccer (FIFA) in January, Ronaldo is also the best-paid player in the world, earning well over $5 million a year in salary and endorsements. His superhuman abilities, which are already drawing comparisons to the immortal Fele, are currently the property of the Spanish club Barcelona, which the Spanish press now calls "Ronaldo F.C. (Football Club)." It was only four years ago that Ronaldo Luiz Nazario de Lima first caught the eye of Zagallo, the coach of the Brazilian national team. At sixteen, Ronaldo was the best player in the Juvenile South American Championship in Colombia, where Brazil finished fourth despite the younL, star's eight goals. When he returned to Brazil. Ronaldo signed his first substantial contract, playing for the Belo Horizonte BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

professional club Cruzeiro. His scoring proficiency with Cru2eiro impressed Zagallo, who selected the young attacker to be a part of Brazil's 1994 World Cup Championship team. Though Ronaldo did not play during the competition, his more experienced teammates knew this baby-faced kid with the lightning-quick reflexes and powerful legs would have plenty of opportunities to lead Brazil to future Cup victories. It was during this time, among the good-natured jests of the older players who teased the adolescent about the braces he wore on his toothy grin, that "Ronaldinho" was born. After the World Cup, the European clubs came calling, bringing their fat checkbooks and the lure of international fame. â&#x20AC;˘ The Dutch team PSV Eindhoven paid $6 million for the rights to the Carioca scoring phenomenon, a record in Brazilian soccer at the time. Ronaldinho received nearly $1 million of this money himself. But this is just the tip of the financial iceberg. After two successful seasons playing in relative obscurity in Holland, his rights were sold to Spain's Barcelona for the unprecedented amount of $20 million dollars. After an incredible start with the club last year, Ronaldinho's agents wasted no time in renegotiating his contract for an unbelievable $50 million over the next ten years. Absurd? Not in the eyes of several other European teams, who are reportedly considering paying $32 million in penalties alone to break Ronaldinho's contract with Barcelona. And this is before any mention of a salary offer. Evidently, no price is too high for the prized possession of Ronaldinho's talents. Humble Beginnings The youngest of three children, Ronaldo came of age in the poor neighborhood of Bento Ribeiro, on the outskirts of Rio. His father worked for the state phone company Telerj and brought home a monthly income of around $400. Their house had a living room, kitchen, bathroom, and one bedroom. Ronaldo's brother and sister slept on the couch in the living room while he shared the only bedroom with his parents. His mother SOnia hoped he would continue in school and begged him not to spend all his time playing on the soccer fields with the neighborhood kids. She wanted him to be a doctor or an engineer, and like most mothers who want more for their children, she thought a good education was the only way to a better life. But Ronaldo was simply not cut out for academics, and after flunking three times, he dropped out of school at the seventh-grade level to play indoor soccer, or futsal as they call it in Brazil. Ronaldo was a mere 13 years old then, but he was already known for his ball-handling skills, and a local juvenile club offered him bus fare, snacks, and athletic shoes in exchange for his goal-scoring services. During one game, Ronaldo made 11 of his team's 12 goals. Ronaldo's biggest aspiration was to play for his favorite team, Flamengo, in the affluent Zona Sul BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

(South Zone) Of Rio. He tells the story of how one day in 1989 he spent two hours on two different buses to attend a tryout with 100 other kids that hoped to make the Flamengo team. The best players were told to return for final selection the next day. Ronaldo lad made the cut, but had no way to pay for four mOre bus fares to come back. Dejected, he left the training field and boarded the bus for the long ride home, . To add insult to injury, the young player was accOsted on the bus by thieves who stole his watch. But it wasn t long before Ronaldo's luck would change. The llowing year, while playing in a juvenile leagu , he decided to turn professional, signing a $7, 00 agreement with the same two agents that han le his affairs today. A year later, he was picked up by Cruzeiro, and from then on, his chosen path to success presented few obstacles. The Character Issue Today, Ronaldinho expresses a profound gratitude to his mother for not taking soccer away from him when he was a boy. In return, his first priority has always been to take care of his family. As soon as he signed his first contract with his agents, he used some of the money to reupholster the family's battered furniture. Later, when his parents separated and his mother had to take a minimum-wage job working at an ice cream shop, the first thing Ronaldo did after signing with Cruzeiro was to go to her boss andltell him that he would pay her salary from now on. When late f he began to make big money, he would purchaso apartments and cars for his closest relatives. But nothing was more important than these first gestures of giving something back to his family, especially the mother that raised him. Sonia says her son has a good head on his shoulders, partily because he still has both a mother and father to turn to. Despite their separation (Ronaldinho's parents were never legally divorced, though both have new partners), they make it a point to spend family parties together, including the Christmas party last year. And both parents enjoy spending time with their son abroad. Perhaps these early lessons in responsibility and family identity provide the foundation for Ronaldinho's successful approach to the game of international soccer, with all its attendant pitfalls and temptations. His agents, Reinaldo Pita and Alexandre Martins, speak highly of their client's character, betting on his maturity and soft-spoken style. Wellbehaved, receptive to the instructions of his coaches, and patient with the media and autograph seekers, he is the polar opposite of the spoiled rebel athlete that soccer ar1d many other professional sports have become plagued with. While most players come unprepared for life, it seems that life has prepared Ronaldinho well. The lure of money and fame are considerable, he admits, but they don't outweigh his love for playing the game. Pita and Martins have refused publicity campaigns worth Tillions of dollars, preferring to pre23

decided to as • greatest player in pride and admir quick to acknowl ery young player: "This is one play follows the career mcomparable,tin teammates gain co "He's a cragyetny brother-in-law, • has charisma, knto days," "The Rona1din . "But he aired any great playórs nce in a while," `nth has been and agility• "The b Says Tom. "But it which around R.emaldo says experience playing the action much Rodrigo, my 12 and great dribblin Somewhat to my so .talents. 1, on the other celona is playin The goal and two del of security. Surely, powerful stroke, perhaps the only s e and moments courtesy Of Ronaldi

naldinho . needs o e n, genius „and someti will probably get more Tom agrees that the ir e'sno telling when noW, with onaldinho has. oeSn't have the s mtmuesTomt"bitt

serve the cleanimage of their client and maximize his marketing value with the most powerful brand in the world of sports, Nike. Since 1994, Ronaldinho has been sponsored by the athletic equipment giant, but only for a meager $150,000 annually. Recently, however, his agents negotiated a new contract with Nike worth a minimum of $15 million over the next ten years. Big-Time Barcelona Ronaldinho's ascendancy in European soccer could not have been better scripted. After making the adjustment to European life and the style of play, the ambitious scorer felt ready to make the jump from the more-sedate Dutch league to the chaotic core of the soccer world, Spain. The deal with Barcelona was finalized during Brazil's heartbreaking performance at the Olympics last summer, where Ronaldinho played well despite being hampered by an earlier knee operation. When he returned to Europe, he would wear the Number 9 shirt for Barcelona and spearhead an offense comprised of foreign stars from all reaches of the soccer world. In Spain, Ronaldinho no longer has the anonymity he enjoyed in Holland. He is treated like a pop star wherever he goes. Legions of admirers follow him when he leaves Barcelona's training facility. Hysterical teenage girls swoon over his shaved head and boyish smile. Security guards have to make a protective circle around him every time he has to board or get off the team bus. Spanish soccer fans have amazed the Brazilian player, who thought he would never see a more fanatical contingent than his own countrymen. When he first arrived in Spain, there were 2,000 fans waiting to greet him at the airport. Ronaldinho makes his regular-season home in a comfortable suburb of Barcelona, sharing a million-dolBRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

lar, four-story house with his friend, secretary, and spokesman Antonio Cesar Santiago, 25, who has accompanied him since his days in Holland. Santiago says he receives about four interview requests from the media every day. Ronaldinho's partner on the front line, the Brazilian winger Giovanni, has become both a close friend and an invaluable asset to Ronaldinho' s scoring. Giovanni' s sweet passes often set up the attacker's devastating finishes. Averaging more than one goal per game with Barcelona, Ronaldinho will reach the amazing total of 50 goals to lead the league this year. Despite his stellar performance to date, the humble forward does not necessarily believe he is playing at his best in Spain, citing more media exposure of his goals as the reason for his growing legend. There is no denying, however, that Ronaldinho torments opponents with his ability to hold the ball and dribble through or past a swarm of defenders. Opposing coaches express their admiration in frustrated tones, secretly wishing they could have this one-of-akind weapon in their arsenal. Perhaps one of the most exciting goals ever witnessed occurred in a game against Compostela last October. Ronaldinho received a pass close to midfield, dribbled furiously past five adversaries, escaping from kicks and grabs all the way, and drove the ball with incredible velocity into the goal from 120 feet out. The replays are still shown regularly on TV in Spain and Brazil. The Specter of Pele Admittedly, it's an unfair, if not irrelevant practice, to compare a 20-year-old at the beginning of his career to the best soccer player ever and Athlete of the Century: the legendary Pele. But a quick look at some of the issues and statistics provides some food for thought. In the debate, it is generally conceded that Pele was a phenomenal scorer, had both speed and fantastic ability, showed great vision for the game, headed well, and kicked strong with both legs. Ronaldinho, meanwhile, has the rare combination of strength, ability, and speed, matched with an BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

incredible hunger for the ball on the attack. His explosive bursts in the short and medium distances are incomparable. In terms of scoring, Pele averaged an unbelievable 1.10 goals per game over his career, scoring his 1,000th goal at the age of 29 n 1969. Ronaldinho, playing in an era of tou her defenses, averages 0.92 goals per game nd will reach his 1,000th goal at the age of 33 if e plays approximately 70 games a year. At the age of 17, Pele played on he first squad for Brazil when it won the World Cup in Sweden in 1958. By the age of 20, he was already averaging 1.07 goals per game (in 316 games). Ronaldinho has played only 15 games and did not play during Brazil's Wo Id Cup victory in 1994. Ronaldinho doesn't pay much atte tion to

these exercises in futility. When the comparisons with Pele began, Barcelona's goalkeeper, the Portuguese Vitor Bahia, was concerned at how it might affect the young star. But after speaking with him, Bahia reported that the ambitious Brazilian had his feet firmly on the ground. For Ronaldinho, it is enough to be the best player in the world today. Peter Castles is an American living in Rio de Janeiro. He can be reached by E-mail at leilacosta@ax.ibase.org.br

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fia's isfortunes And very slowly I saw the teacher, the whole of him. Very slowly I saw that the teacher was very big and very ugly, and that he was the man of my life. I was two feet hardened and stuck to the floor and a heart so empty that it seemed to be dying of thirst. CLARICE LISPECTOR Qualquer que tivesse sido o seu trabalho anterior, etc o abandonara, mudara de profissao, e passara pesadamente a ensinar no curso primario: era tudo o que sabiamos dele. 0 professor era gordo, grande e silencioso, de ombros contraidos. Em vez de n6 na garganta, tinha ombros contraidos, Usava paletO curto demais, Oculos sem aro, corn urn fio de ouro encimando o nariz grosso e romano. E eu era atraida por etc. Nao amor, mas atraida pelo seu silencio e pela controlada impaciencia que ele tinha em nos ensinar e que, ofendida, eu adivinhara. Passei a me comportar mat na sala. Falava muito alto, mexia corn os colegas, interrompia a licao corn piadinhas, ate que ele dizia, vermelho: — Cale-se ou expulso a senhora da sala. Ferida, triunfante, eu respondia em desafio: pode me mandar! Ele nao mandava, senao estaria me obedecendo. Mas eu o exasperava tanto que se tornara doloroso para mim ser o objeto do Odio daquele homem que de certo modo eu amava. No o amava como a mulher que eu seria um dia, amava-o como uma crianca que tenta desastradamente proteger urn adulto, corn a colera de quern ainda nao foi covarde e ve urn homem forte de ombros tao curvos. Ele me irritava. De noite, antes de dormir, ele me irritava. Eu tinha nove anos e pouco, dura idade como o tab o nao quebrado de uma begonia. Eu o espicacava, e ao conseguir exacerba-lo sentia na boca, em glOria de martirio, a acidez insuportavel da beg6nia quando e esmagada entre os dentes; e rola as unhas, exultante. De manha, ao atravessar os port 6- es da escola, pura como ia corn meu café corn leite e a cara lavada, era urn choque deparar em carne e osso corn o homem que me fizera devanear por um abismal minuto antes de dormir. Em superficie de tempo fora urn minuto apen as, m as em profundidade eram velhos seculos de escurissima docura. De manha — como se eu nao tivesse contado corn a existencia real daquele que desencadeara meus negros sonhos de amor —, de manha, diante do homem grande corn seu paletO curto, em choque eu era jogada na vergonha, na perplexidade e na assustadora esperanca. A esperanca era o meu pecado major. Cada dia renovava-se a mesquinha luta que eu encetara 28

BRAZZI! FEBRUARY 1997

pela salvacdo daquele homem. Eu queria o seu bem, e em resposta ele me odiava. Contundida, eu me tornara o seu demonio e tormento, simbolo do inferno que devia ser para ele ensinar aquela turma risonha de desinteressados. Tornara-se urn prazer ja terrivel o de no deixa-lo em paz. 0 jogo, como sempre, me fascinava. Sem saber que eu obedecia a velhas tradicides, mas corn uma sabedoria corn que os ruins já nascem — aqueles ruins que roem as unhas de espanto —, sem saber que obedecia a uma das coisas que mais acontecem no mundo, eu estava sendo a prostituta e ele o santo. No, talvez no seja isso. As palavras me antecedem e ultrapassam, elas me tentam e me modificam, e se nao tomo cuidado sera tarde demais: as coisas sera° ditas sem eu as ter dito. Ou, pelo menos, Traci era apenas isso. Meu enleio vem de que urn tapete é feito de tantos fios que nao posso me resignar a seguir um fio so; meu enredamento vem de que uma histOria é feita de muitas hist6rias. E nem todas posso contar — uma palavra mais verdadeira poderia de eco em eco fazer desabar pelo despenhadeiro as minhas altas geleiras. Assim, pois, nao falarei mais no sorvedouro que havia em mim enquanto eu devaneava antes de adormecer. Senao eu mesma terminaria pensando que era apenas essa macia voragem o que me impelia para ele, esquecendo minha desesperada abnegacdo. Eu me tornara a sua sedutora, dever que ninguem me impusera. Era de se lamentar que tivesse caido em minhas maos erradas a tarefa de salva-lo pela tentacao, pois de todos os adultos e criancas daquele tempo eu era provavelmente a menos indicada. "Essa tido é flor que se cheire", como dizia nossa empregada. Mas era como se, sozinha corn urn alpinista paralisado pelo terror do precipicio, eu, por mais inabil que fosse, no pudesse senao tentar ajuda-lo a descer. 0 professor tivera a falta de sorte de ter sido logo a mais imprudente quem ficara sozinha corn ele nos seus ermos. Por mais arriscado que fosse o meu lado, eu era obrigada a arrasta-lo para o meu lado, pois o dele era mortal. Era o que eu fazia, como uma crianca importuna puxa urn grande pela aba do paletO..Ele no olhava para tras, no perguntava o que eu queria, e livrava-se de mim corn urn safanao. Eu continuava a puxa-lo pelo paletO, meu imico instrumento era a insistencia.,E disso tudo ele so percebia que eu lhe rasgava os bolsos. E verdade que nem eu mesma sabia ao certo o que fazia, minha vida corn o professor era invisivel. Mas eu sentia que meu papel era ruim e perigoso: impelia-me a voracidade por uma vida real que tardava, e pior que inabil, eu tambem tinha gosto em lhe rasgar os bolsos. SO Deus perdoaria o que eu era porque so Ele sabia do que me fizera e para o que. Eu me deixava, pois, ser materia d' Ele. Ser materia de Deus era a minha Unica bondade. E a fonte de urn nascente misticismo. Nao misticismo por Ele, mas pela materia d' Ele, mas vida crua e cheia de prazeres: eu era uma adoradora. Aceitava a vastiddo do que eu nao conhecia e a ela me confiava toda, corn segredos de confessionario. Seria para as escuridoes da ignorancia que eu seduzia o professor? e corn o ardor de uma freira na cela. Freira alegre e monstruosa, ai de mim. E nem disso eu poderia me vangloriar: na classe todos nos eramos igualmente monstruosos e suaves, avida materia de Deus. Mas se me comoviam seus gordos ombros contraidos e seu paletozinho apertado, minhas gargalhadas so conseguiam fazer corn que ele, fingindo a que custo me BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

esquecer, mais contraido ficasse de tanto autocontrole. A antipatia que esse homem sentia por mim era to forte que eu me detestava. Ate que meus risos foram definitivamente substituindo minha delicadeza impossivel. Aprender eu nao aprendia naquelas aulas. 0 jogo de torna-lo infeliz ja me tomara demais. Suportando corn desenvolta amargura as minhas pernas compridas e os sapatos sempre cambaios, hum ilhada por nab ser uma for, e sobretudo torturada por uma infancia enorme que eu temia nunca chegar a urn fim — mais infeliz eu o tornava e sacudia corn altivez a minha (mica riqueza: os cabelos escorridos que eu planejava ficarem urn dia bonitos corn permanente e que por conta do futuro eu já exercitava sacudindo-os. Estudar eu nao estudava, confiava na minha vadiacao sempre bem sucedida e que tambem ela o professor tomava como mais uma proVocacao da menina odiosa. Nisso ele nao tinha razao. A verdade ë que nao me sobrava tempo para estudar. As alegrias me ocupavam, ficar atenta me tomava dias e dias; havia os livros de historia que eu ha roendo de paixao as unhas ate o sabugo, nos meus primeiros extases de tristeza, refinamento que eu já descobrira; havia meninos que eu escolhera e que no me haviam escolhido, eu perdia horas de sofrimento porque eles eram inatingiveis, e mais outras horas de sofrimento aceitando-os corn ternura, pois o homem era o meu rei da Criacao; havia a esperancosa ameaca do pecado, eu me ocupava corn medo em esperar; sem falar que estava permanentemente ocupada em querer e nao querer ser o que eu era, no me decidia por qual de mim, toda eu e que nao podia; ter nascido era cheio de erros a corrigir. Nao, nao era para irritar o professor que eu nao estudava; s6 tinha tempo de crescer. 0 que eu fazia para todos os lados, corn uma falta de graca que mais parecia o resultado de um erro de calculo: as pernas nao combinavam corn os olhos, e a boca era emocionada enquanto as maos se esgalhavam sujas — na minha pressa eu crescia sem saber para onde. 0 fato de um retrato da epoca me revelar, ao contrario, uma menina bem plantada, selvagem e suave, corn olhos pensativos embaixo da franja pesada, esse retrato real no me desmente, s6 faz é revelar uma fantasmagOrica estranha que eu nao compreenderia se fosse a sua mae. SO 30

muito depois, tends) finalmente me organizado em corpo e sentindo-me fundamentalmente mais garantida, pude me aventurar e estudar urn pouco; antes, porem, eu nao podia me arriscar a apren der, fitoqueria me disturbar — tomava intuitiivo cuidado corn o que eu era, jã clue eti nao sabia o que era, e corn vaidade cultivava a integridade da ignorancia. Foi pena o professor nao ter chegado aver aquilo em que quatro anos depois' inesperadamente eu me tornaria: aos treze anos, de maos limpas, banho tornado, tocla composta e bonitinha, ele me teria visto como urn cromo de Natal a varanda de urn sobrado. Mas, em vez dele, passara embaixo um ex-amiguinho meu, gritara alto o meu nome, sem perceber que eu já nao era mais urn moleque e sim uma jovem digna cujo nome no pode mais ser berrado- pelas calcadas de uma cidade. "Que indaguei do instruso corn a major friezti. R.ecebi entao como resposta gritada a noticia de que o professor moffera naquela madrugada. E branca, de olhos muito abertos, eu olhara a rua vertiginosa a meus Minha compostura quebrada como a de uma boneca partida. Voltando a quatro anos eras. Foi talvez por tudo o que contei, misturado e em conjunto, que escrevi a composicao que o professor mandara, ponto de desenlace dessa histeria e comeco de outras. Ou foi apenas por pressa de acabar de qualquer modo o dever para poder brincar no parque. — Vou contar uma historia — disse ele — e voces facam a composicao. Mas usandols palavras de voces. Quem for acabando, no precisa esperar pela sineta, já pode ir para o recreio. 0 title ele contou: urn homem muito pobre sonitara que descobrira um tesouro e ficara muito rico; acordando, arrumara suatrouxa, saira em busca do tesouro; andara o mundo inteiro e continuava sem achar o tesouro; cansado, voltara para a sua pobre, pobre casinha; e como nao tinha o que corner, comecara a plantar no seu pobre quintal; tanto plantara, tanto colhera, tanto comecara a vender que terminara ficando mite rico. Ouvi con ar de desprezo, ostensivamente brincando corn o lap is, como se quisesse deixar claro que suas histOrias nao me ludibriavam e que eu bem sabia quem ele era. Ele contara sem olhar uma s6 vez para mim. E que na falta de jeito de anuft-lo e no gosto de

persegui-lo, eu tambem o acossava corn o olhar: a tudo o que ele dizia eu respondia corn urn simples olhar direto, do qual ninguem em sa consciencia poderia me acusar. Era urn olhar que eu tornava bem limpid° e angelic°, muito aberto, como o da candidez olhando o crime. E conseguia sempre o mesmo resultado: corn perturbacao ele evitava os meus olhos, comecando a gaguejar. 0 que me enchia de um poder que me amaldicoava. E de piedade. 0 que por sua vez me irritava. Irritava-me que ele obrigasse uma porcaria de crianca a compreender urn homem. Eram quase dez horas da manha, em breve soaria a sineta do recreio. Aquele meu colegio, alugado dentro de urn dos parques da cidade, tinha o major campo de recreio que ja vi. Era tao bonito para mim como seria para urn esquilo on urn cavalo. Tinha arvores espalhadas, longas descidas e subidas e estendida relva. Nao acabava nunca. Tudo ali era longe e grande, feito para pernas compridas de menina, corn lugar para montes de tijolo e madeira de origem ignorada, para moitas de azedas begonias que nos comiamos, para sol e sombras onde as abelhas faziam me!. La cabia urn ar livre imenso. E tudo fora vivido por nos: já tinhamos rolado de cada declive, intensamente cochichado atras de cada monte de tijolo, comido de varias flores e em todos os troncos haviamos a canivete gravado datas, doces nomes feios e coracOes transpassados por flechas; meninos e meninas au i faziam o seu mel. Eu estava no fim da composicao e o cheiro das sombras escondidas já me chamava. Apressei-me. Como eu sao sabia "usar minhas proprias palavras", escrever era simples. Apressava-me tambem o desejo de ser a primeira a atravessar a sala — o professor terminara por me isolar em quarentena na ultima carteira — e entregar-lhe insolente a composicao, demonstrandolhe assim minha rapidez, qualidade que me parecia essencial para se viver e que, eu tinha certeza, o professor so podia admirar. Entreguei-lhe o caderno e ele o recebeu sem ao menos me olhar. Melindrada, sem urn elogio pela minha velocidade, sal pulando para o grande parque. A historia que eu transcrevera em minhas pr6prias palavras era igual a que ele contara. S6 que naquela epoca eu estava comecando a "tirar a moral BRAZZIL -FEBRUARY 1997

das historias", o que, se me santificava, mais tarde ameacaria sufocar-me em rigidez. Corn alguma faceirice, pois, havia acrescentado as frases finais. Frases que horas depois eu ha e relia para ver o que nelas haveria de to poderoso a ponto de enfim ter provocado o homem de um modo como eu pr6pria nao conseguira ate entao. Provavelmente o que o professor quisera deixar implicito na sua histOria triste é que o trabalho arduo era o unico modo de se chegar a ter fortuna. Mas levianamente eu concluira pela moral oposta: alguma coisa sobre o tesouro que se disfarca, que esta onde menos se espera, que é so descobrir, acho que falei em sujos quintais corn tesouros. Já nao me lembro, nao sei se foi exatamente isso. Nao consigo imaginar corn que palavras de crianca teria eu exposto um sentimento simples mas que se torna pensamento complicado. Suponho que, arbitrariamente contrariando o sentido real da historia, eu de algum modo ja me prometia por escrito que o ocio, mais que o trabalho, me daria as grandes recompensas,gratuitas, as nnicas a que eu aspirava. E possivel tambem que já entdo meu tema de vida fosse a irrazoavel esperanca, e que eu ja tivesse iniciado a minha grande obstinacao: eu daria tudo o que era meu por nada, mas queria que tudo me fosse dado por nada. Ao contrario do trabalhador da histOria, na composicao eu sacudia dos ombros todos os deveres e dela sala livre e pobre, e corn urn tesouro na mao. Fui para o recreio, onde fiquei sozinha corn o premio inutil de ter sido a primeira, ciscando a terra, esperando impaciente pelos meninos que pouco a pouco comecaram a surgir da sala. No meio das violentas brincadeiras resolvi buscar na minha carteira nao me lembro o que, para mostrar ao caseiro do parque, meu amigo e protetor. Toda molhada de suor vermelha de uma felicidade irrepresave! que se fosse em casa me valeria uns tapas — voei ern direcao a sala de aula, atravessei-a correndo, e tao estabanada que nao vi o professor a folhear os cadernos empilhados sobre a mesa. Já tendo na mao a coisa que eu fora buscar, e iniciando outra corrida de volta— so entao meu olhar tropecou no homem. Sozinho a catedra: ele me olhava. Era a primeira vez que estavamos frente a frente por nossa conta. Ele me BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

olhava. Meus passos, de vagarosos, quase cessaram. Pela primeira vez eu estava so gom ele, sem o apoio cochichado da classe, sem a admiracao que minha afoiteza provocava. Tentei sorrir, sentindo que o sangue me sumia do rosto. Uma gota de suor correu-me pela testa. Ele me olhava. 0 olhar era uma pata mac a e pesada sobre mim. Mas se a pata era suave, tolhia-me toda como a de urn gato que sem pressa prende o nab. do rato. A gota de suor foi descendo lelo nariz e pela boca, dividindo ao me o o meu sorriso. Apenas isso: sem ma expressao no olhar, ele me olh va. Comecei a costear a parede de ol os baixos, prendendo-me toda a eu sorriso, nnico trap de urn rosto q e ja perdera os contornos. Nunca h via percebido como era comprida a sal de aula; so agora, ao lento passo do m do, eu via o seu tamanho real. Nem a mi ha falta de tempo me deixara percebe ate entao como eram austeras e alta as paredes; e duras, eu sentia a pa ede dura na palma da mao. Num pesad lo, do qual sorrir fazia parte, eu al acreditava poder alcancar o ambit da porta — de onde eu correria, ah c6mo correria! a me refugiar no meid de meus iguais, as criancas. Alem de me concentrar no sorriso, meu zelo minucioso era o de nao fazer barulho corn os pes, e assim eu aderia a natureza intima de urn perigo do qual tuco o mais eu desconhecia. Foi num arrepio que me adivinhei de repente como num espelho: uma coisa amida se en ostando a parede, avancando devagar na ponta dos pes, e corn urn sorriso 4ada vez mais intenso. Meu sorriso cr stalizara a sala em silencio, e mesmo os ruidos que vinham doparque escorriam pelo lado de fora do silencio. Cheguei finalmente a porta, e o coracao imprudente pos-se a bater alto demais sob o risco de acordar o gigantesco mundo que dormia. Foi quando ouvi meu nome. De snbito pregada ao chao, com a boca seca, au i fiquei de costas para ele, sem coragem de me voltar. A brisa que vinha pela porta acabou de secar o Suor do corpo. Virei-me devagar, contendo dentro dos punhos cerrados o impnlso de correr. Ao som de meu nome a saili se desipnotizara. E bem devagar vi o professor odo inteiro. Bern devagar vi que o pr fessor era muito grande e muito feio, que

ele era o homem de minha vida. 0 novo e grande medo. Pequena, sonambula, sozinha, diante daquilo a que a minha fatal liberdade finalmente me levara. Meu sorriso, tudo o que sobrara de urn rosto, tambem se apagara. Eu era dois pes endurecidos no chao e urn coracao que de tao vazio parecia morrer de sede. Ali fiquei, fora do alcance do homem. Meu coracao morria de sede, sim. Meu coracao morria de sede. Calmo como antes de friamente matar ele disse: — Chegue mais perto... Como e que um homem se vingava? Eu ia receber de volta em pleno rosto a bola de mundo que eu mesma the jogara e que nem por isso me era conhecida. la receber de volta uma realidade que nao teria existido se eu nao a tivesse temerariamente adivinhado e assim the dado vida. Ate que ponto aquele homem, monte de cornpacta tristeza, era tambem monte de ft:1HO Mas meu passado era agora tarde demais. Um arrependimento estOico manteve erecta a minha cabeca. Pela primeira vez a ignorancia, que ate entao fora o meu grande guia, desamparavame. Men pai estava no trabalho, minha mae morrera ha meses. Eu era o unico eu. Pegue o seu caderno... — — acrescentou ele. A surpresa me fez subitamente olháto. Era s6 isso, entdo? 0 alivio inesperado foi quase mais chocante que o meu susto anterior. Avancei um passo, estendi a mao gaguejante. Mas o professor ficou imovel e nao entregou o caderno. Para a minha sabita tortura, sem me desfitar, foi tirando lentamente os Oculos. E olhou-me corn olhos nus que tinham muitos cilios. Eu nunca tinha visto seus olhos que, corn as inumeras pestanas, pareciam duas baratas doces. Ele me olhava. E en nao soube como existir na frente de um homem. Disfarcei olhando o teto, o chao, as paredes, e mantinha a mao ainda estendida porque nao sabia como recolhe-la. Ele me olhava manso, curioso, corn os olhos despenteados como se tivesse acordado. Iria ele me amassar corn mao inesperada? Ou exigir que eu me ajoelhasse e pedisse perdao. Meu fio de esperanca era que ele nao soubesse o que eu the tinha feito, assim como eu mesma ja nao sabia, na verdade eu nunca soubera. — Como e que the veio a ideia do 31

rcsouro que se disfarca? Que tesouro? — murmurei at oleim ad a . orwg,4s4rir.insmat Ficamos nos fitando em silencio. — Ah, o tesouro! precipitei-me de repente, mesmo sem entender, ansiosa por admitir qualquer falta, implorando-lhe que meu castigo consistisse apenas em sofrer para sempre de culpa, que a tortura eterna fosse a minha punicao, mas nunca essa vida desconhecida. — 0 tesouro que esta escondido onde menos se espera. Que é so descobrir. Quem the disse isso? 0 homem enlouqueceu, pensei, pois que tinha a ver o tesouro com aquilo tudo? Atonita, sem compreender, e cam inhando de inesperado a inesperado, pressenti no entanto urn terreno menos perigoso. Nas minhas corridas eu aprendera a me levantar das quedas mesmo quando mancava, e me refiz logo: "foi a composicao do tesouro! esse entao deve ter sido o meu erro!" Fraca, e embora pisando cuidadosa na nova e escorregadia seguranca, eu no entanto ja me levantara o bastante da minha queda para poder sacudir, numa imitacao da antiga arrogancia, a futura cabeleira ondulada: Ninguem, ora... — respondi mancando. Eu mesma inventei disse tremula, mas ja recomecando a cintilar. Se eu ficara al iviada por ter alguma coisa enfim concreta corn que lidar, comecava no entanto a me dar conta de algo muito pior. A sabita falta de raiva dele. Olhei-o intrigada, de vies. E aos poucos desconfiadissima. Sua falta de raiva comecara a me amedrontar, tinha ameacas novas que eu nao compreendia. Aquele olhar que nao me desfitava — e sem cOlera... Perplexa, e a troco de nada, eu perdia o meu inimigo e sustento. Olhei-o surpreendida. Que é que ele queria de mim? Ele me constrangia. E seu olhar sem raiva passara a me importunar mais do que a brutalidade que eu temera. Um medo pequeno, todo frio e suado, foi me tomando. Devagar, para ele nao perceber, recuei as costas ate encontrar atras delas a parede, e depois a cabeca recuou ate nao ter mais para onde ir. Daquela parede onde eu me engastara toda, furtivamente olhei-o. E meu estomago se encheu de uma agua de nausea. Nao sei contar. Eu era uma menina muito curiosa e, para a minha palidez, eu vi. Ericada, 32

prestes a vomitar, embora ate hoje nao saiba ao certo o que vi. Mas sei que vi. Vi to fundo quanto numa boca, de chofre eu via o abismo do mundo. Aquilo que eu via era anonimo como uma barriga aberta para uma operacao de intestinos. Vi uma coisa se fazendo na sua cara — o mal-estar ja petrificado subia corn esforco ate a sua pele, vi a careta vagarosamente hesitando e quebrando uma crosta— mas essa coisa que em muda catastrofe se desenraizava, essa coisa ainda se parecia tao pouco corn um sorriso como se um figado ou urn pe tentassem sorrir, nao sei. 0 que vi, vi tao de perto que nao sei o que vi. Como se meu olho curioso se tivesse colado ao buraco da fechadura e em choque deparasse do outro lado corn outro olho colado me olhando. Eu vi dentro de urn olho. 0 que era tao incompreensivel como urn olho. Urn olho aberto corn sua gelatina move!. Corn suas lagrimas organicas. Por si mesmo o olho chora, por si mesmo o olho ri. Ate que o esforco do homem foi se completando todo atento, e em vitoria infantil ele mostrou, perola arrancada da barriga aberta — que estava sorrindo. Eu vi urn homem corn entranhas sorrindo. Via sua apreensao extrema em nao errar, sua aplicacao de aluno lento, a falta de jeito como se de sabito ele se tivesse tornado canhoto. Sem entender, eu sabia que pediam de mim que eu recebesse a entrega dele e de sua barriga aberta, e que eu recebesse o seu peso de homem. Minhas costas for- pram desesperadamente a parede, recuei — era cedo demais para eu ver tanto. Era cedo demais para eu ver como nasce a vida. Vida nascendo era tao mais sangrento do que morrer. Morrer é ininterrupto. Mas ver materia inerte lentamente tentar se erguer como um grande morto-vivo... Vera esperanca me aterrorizava, ver a vida me embrulhava o est6m ago. Estavam pedindo demais de minha coragem sO porque eu era corajosa, pediam minha forca sO porque eu era forte. "Mas e eu?", gritei dez anos depois por motivos de amor perdido, "quem vird jamais a minha fraqueza!" Eu o olhava surpreendida, e para sempre nao soube o que vi, o que eu vira poderia cegar os curiosos. Entao ele disse, usando pela primeira vez o sorriso que aprendera: — Sua composicao do tesouro esta tao bonita. 0 tesouro que e s6 descobrir. Voce... — ele nada acrescentou por um momento. Perscrutou-me suave, indis-

creto, tao meu intimo como se ele fosse o meu coracao. — Voce' é uma menina muito engracada — disse afinal. Foi a primeira vergonha real de minha vida. Abaixei os olhos, sem poder sustentar o olhar indefeso daquele homem a quern eu enganara. Sim, minha impressao era a de que, apesar de sua raiva, ele de algum modo havia confiado em mim, e que entao eu o enganara corn a lorota do tesouro. Naquele tempo eu pensava que tudo o que se inventa e mentira, e somente a consciencia atormentada do pecado me redimia do vicio. Abaixei os olhos corn vergonha. Preferia sua colera antiga, que me ajudara na minha luta contra mim mesma, pois coroava de insucesso os meus metodos e talvez terminasse um dia me corrigindo: eu nao queria era esse agradecimento que nao s6 era a minha pior punicao, por eu nao merece-lo, como vinha encorajar minha vida errada que eu tanto temia, viver errado me atraia. Eu bem quis the avisar que nao se acha tesouro a toa. Mas, olhando-o, desanimei: faltava-me a coragem de desiludi-lo. Eu ja me habituara a proteger a alegria dos outros, as de meu pai, por exemplo, que era mais desprevenido que eu. Mas como me foi dificil engolir a seco essa alegria que tao irresponsavelmente eu causara! Ele parecia urn mendigo que agradecesse o prato de comida sem perceber que the haviam dado carne estragada. 0 sangue me subira ao rosto, agora tao quente que pensei estar corn os olhos injetados, enquanto ele, provavelmente em novo engano, devia pensar que eu corara de prazer ao elogio. Naquela mesma noite aquilo tudo se transformaria em incoercivel crise de vomitos que manteria acesas todas as luzes de minha casa. — Voce — repetiu entao ele lentamente como se aos poucos estivesse admitindo corn encantamento o que the viera por acaso a boca voce é uma menina muito engracada, sabe? Voce é uma doidinha... disse usando outra vez o sorriso como um menino que dorme corn os sapatos novos. Ele nem ao menos sabia que ficava feio quando sorria. Confiante, deixava-me ver a sua feiara, que era a sua parte mais inocente. Tive que engolir como pude a ofensa que ele me fazia ao acreditar em mim, tive que engolir a piedade por ele, a vergonha por mim, "tolo!", pudesse eu the gritar, "essa histOria de BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

tesouro disfarcado foi inventada, é coisa so para menina!" Eu tinha muita consciencia de ser uma crianca, o que explicava todos os meus graves defeitos, e pusera tanta fe em um dia crescer — e aquele homem grande se deixara enganar por uma men ina safadinha. Ele matava em mim pela primeira vez a minha fe nos adultos: tambem ele, urn homem, acreditava como eu nas grandes mentiras. . . E de repente, corn o coracdo batendo de desilusdo, no suportei um instante mais — sem ter pegado o caderno corn i para o parque, a mdo na boca como se me tivessem quebrado os dentes. Corn a indo na boca, horrorizada, eu corria, corria para nunca parar, a prece profunda ndo é aquela que pede, a prece mais profunda é a que rid° pede mais — eu corn, eu corria muito espantada. Na minha impureza eu havia depositado a esperanca de redencdo nos adultos. A necessidade de acreditar na minha bondade futura fazia corn que eu venerasse os grandes, que eu fizera a minha imagem, mas a uma imagem de mim enfim purificada pela penitencia do crescimento, enfim liberta da alma suja de menina. E tudo isso o professor agora destruia, e destruia meu amor por ele e por mim. Minha salvacdo seria impossivel: aquele homem tambem era Cu. Meu amargo idolo que cake ingenuamente nas artimanhas de uma crianca confusa e sem candura, e que se de ixara docilmente guiar pela minha diabolica inocencia... Corn a mdo apertando a boca, eu corria pela poeira do parque. Quando enfim me dei conta de estar bem longe da Orbita do professor, sofreei exausta a corrida, e quase a cair encostei-me em todo o meu peso no tronco de uma arvore, respirando alto, respirando. All fiquei ofegante e de olhos fechados, sentindo na boca o amargo empoeirado do tronco, os dedos mecanicamente passando e repassando pelo duro entalhe de urn coracao corn flecha. E de repente, apertando os olhos fechados, gemi entendendo urn pouco mais: estaria ele querendo dizer que... que eu era urn tesouro disfarcado? 0 tesouro onde menos se espera... Oh ndo, ndo, coitadinho dele, coitado daquele rei da Criacdo, de tal modo precisara. . . de que? de que precisara ele?... que ate eu me transformara em tesouro. Eu ainda tinha muito mais corrida BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

dentro de mim, forcei a garganta seca a recuperar o folego, e empurrando corn raiva o tronco da arvore recomecei a correr em direcdo ao fim do mundo. Mas ainda tido divisara o fim sombreado do parque, e meus passos foram se tornando mais vagarosos, excessivamente cansados. Eu ndo pod i a mais. Talvez por cansaco, mas eu sucumbia. Eram passos cada vez mais lentos e a folhagem das arvores se balancava lenta. Eram passos urn pouco deslumbrados. Em hesitacao fui parando, as arvores rodavam altas. E que uma docura toda estranha fafigava meu coracdo. Intimidada, eu hesita a. Estava sozinha na relva, mal em e sem nenhum apoio, a mdo no pe to cansado como a de uma virg m anunciada. E de cansaco abaixando aquela suavidade primeira uma cabeca finalmente hum ilde que de muito lone talvez lembrasse a de uma mulher. A copa das arvores se balancava pare a frente, para tras. "Voce é uma menina muito engracada, voce é uma • dissera ele. Era como um amor. Ndo, eu ndo era engracada. • Sem nem ao menos saber, eu era muito seria. Ndo, eu nao era doidinha, a realidade era o meu destino, e era o que em mim doia nos outros. E, por Deus, eu ndo era urn tesouro. Mas se eu antes ja havia descoberto em mim todo o avi o veneno corn que se nasce e corn que se rei a vide — s6 naquele instante-de nel e flores descobria de que modo curava: quem me amasse, assim u teria curado quern sofresse de mirn. u era a escura ignorancia coin suas fomes e risos, corn as pequenas mortes alimentando a minha vide inevitavel — que podia eu fazer? eu ja sabia que eu era inevitavel. Mas se eu ndo prestava, eu fora tudo o que aquele homem tivera naquele momento. Polo menos uma vez ele teria que amar, e sem ser a ninguem — atraves de alguem. E se eu estivera ali. Se bem que esta fosse a sua 'Mica vantagem: tendo apenas a mim, e obrigado a iniciar-se amando o ruim, ele comecara pelo que poucos chegavam a alcancar. Seria facil demais querer o limpo; inalcancavel pelo amor era o feio, amar o impuro era a nossa mais profunda nostalgia. Atraves de mim, a dificil de se amar, ele recebera, corn grande caridade por si mesmo, aquilo de Tie somos feitos. Entendi eu tudo issO? Ndo. E ndo sei o que na hora Mas assim como por urn instante iio

professor Cu vire corn aterrorizado fascinio o mundo — e mesmo agora ainda ndo sei o que vi, so que para sempre e em urn segundo eu vi — assim eu nos entendi, e nunca saberei o que entendi. Nunca saberei o que eu entendo. 0 que quer que eu tenha entendido no parque foi, corn urn choque de docura, entendido pela minha ignorancia. Ignorancia que ali em pe — numa soliddo sem dor, nab menor que a das arvores — eu recuperava inteira, a ignorancia e a sua verdade incompreensivel. All estava Cu, a menina esperta demais, e eis que tudo o que ern mim ndo prestava servia a Deus e aos homens. Tudo o que em mim ndo prestava era o meu tesouro. Como uma virgem anunciada, sim. Por ele me ter permitido que eu o fizesse enfim sorrir, por isso ele me anunciara. Ele acabara de me transformar em mais do que o rei da Criacao: fizera de mim a mulher do rei da Criacdo. Pois logo a mim, tao cheia de garras e sonhos, coubera arrancar de seu coracdo a flecha farpada. De chofre explicava-se para que eu nascera corn mat) dura, e para que eu nascera sem nojo da dor. Para que te servem essas unhas longas? Para te arranhar de morte e para arrancar os teus espinhos mortals, responde o lobo do homem. Para que te serve essa cruel boca de fome? Para te morder e para soprar a fim de que Cu ndo te doe demais, meu amor, ja que tenho que te doer, eu sou o lobo inevitavel pois a vide me foi dada. Para que te servem essas mdos que ardem e prendem? Para ficarmos de maos dadas, pois preciso tanto, tanto, tanto — uivaram os lobos, e olharam intim idados as proprias garras antes de se aconchegarem urn no outro para amar e dormir. E foi assim que no grande parque do colegio lentamente comecei a aprender a ser amada, suportando o sacrificio de ndo merecer, apenas para suavizar a dor de quern ndo ama. Nao, esse foi somente urn dos motivos. que os outros fazem outras histories. Em algumas foi de meu coracdo que outras garras cheias de duro amor arrancaram a flecha farpada, e sem nojo de meu grito. This short story was originally published by Status magazine in the special edition "25 Contos Brasileiros". 33

Where Everyone heaves .ilIS eart This is the fifth and last in a series of articles on Rio de Janeiro.

The excitement of Carnaval builds all year and the pre-Lenten revelry begins well before the official dates of Carnaval. A month before Carnaval starts, rehearsals at the escolas de samba (samba clubs) are open to visitors on Saturdays. The rehearsals are usually in the fatielas. They're fun to watch, but for your safety go with a Carioca.

Part V

CARNAVAL Carnaval is a pagan holiday originating perhaps in the Roman bacchanalia celebrating Saturn or in the ancient Egyptian festival of Isis. Carnaval was a wild party during the Middle Ages until tamed in Europe by Christianity, but the sober church of the Inquisition could not squelch Carnaval in the Portuguese colony, where it came to acquire African rhythms and Indian costumes. People speculate that the word Carnaval derives from carne-vale, meaning 'goodbye meat'. The reasoning goes something like this: for the 40 days of Lent, nominally Catholic Brazilians give up liver or flank steaks. To compensate for the big sacrifices ahead, they rack up sins in a delirious carnal blowout in honor of King Momo, the king of Carnaval. Carnaval is celebrated everywhere in Brazil and each region has a particular way of celebrating. In Bahia, Carnaval is celebrated in the streets under the blasting loudspeakers of the trio eletrico trucks; in Recife and Olinda merry-makers dance the frevo. These are more authentic Carnavals than Rio's glitzy celebration, which has become the big draw for the tourism industry. More than anywhere else in Brazil, Carnaval in Rio is a spectator event, but it's a fantastic spectacle nonetheless. Every year wealthy and spaced-out foreigners descend on Rio en masse, get drunk, get high, bag some sunrays and exchange exotic diseases. Everyone gets a bit unglued at this time of year and there are lots of car accidents and murders. Some of the leaner and meaner Cariocas can get a little ugly with all the sex, booze and flash of money. Apartment rates and taxi fares triple and quadruple and some thieves keep to the spirit of the season by robbing in costume. The excitement of Carnaval builds all year and the pre-Lenten revelry begins well before the official dates of Carnaval. A month before Carnaval starts, rehearsals at the escolas de samba (samba clubs) are open to visitors on Saturdays. The rehearsals are usually in the favelas. They're fun to watch, but for your safety go with a Carioca. Tourist Carnaval shows are held all year round at Scala, Plataforma 1 and up top at Pao de Aciicar. The escolas de samba are actually predated by bandas (nonprofessional equivalents of the escolas de samba), which are now returning to the Carnaval scene as part of the movement to return Rio's Carnaval to the streets. They are called Banda de Ipanema, Banda do Leblon, Banda da Boca Maldita and Banda Carmen Miranda, among others. The bandas are great fun, a good place to loosen up your hip-joints for samba, and excellent photo opportunities; transvestites always keep the festivities entertaining. Riotur has information on the scheduled bandas, or you could just show up in Ipanema (most of them are in Ipanema), at Praca General Osorio or Praca Paz around 5 PM or so, a couple of weekends before official Carnaval. Other street festivities are held in Centro on Avenida Rio Branco. Riotur has all the information in a special Carnaval guide. Carnaval Balls Carnaval balls are surreal and erotic events. In one ball at Scala I saw a woman (transsexual?) bare her breasts and offer passers-by a suck while rickety old ladies were bopping away in skimpy lingerie. A young and geeky rich guy was dancing on tables with whores past their prime, young models and lithe young nymphets, all in various stages of undress. Breasts were painted, stickered with adhesive BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

tattoos, covered with fish-net brassieres or left bare. Bottoms were spandexed, G-stringed or mini-skirted. In Monte Libano, all the action took place on the stages. One stage had a samba band, the other was crushed with young women. They didn't dance, but ground their hips and licked their lips to the incessant, hypnotic music and the epileptic flashing of the floor lights. Throngs of sweaty photographers and video crews mashed up to the stage. Everyone played up for the camera, vying for space and the attention of the photographers. The Vegas headdresses, the pasty-faced bouncers and the rich men in private boxes overlooking the dance floor lent a Mafiosi feel to the place. Carnaval is the holiday of the poor. Not that you could tell from the price of the tickets to the balls. Some of them cost more than the monthly minimum wage. There are snooty affairs like the PAo de Acucar ball and the Hawaiian ball at the yacht club, and raunchier parties in Leblon at Scala and Monte Libano. Tickets go on sale about two weeks before Carnaval starts and the balls are held nightly for the week preceding Carnaval and through Carnaval. In 1991, Scala held the Flamengo soccer club's Baile Vermelho e Preto (Red and Black Ball) and the inimitable Gala Gay Ball. Monte Libano, the wildest place safe enough for tourists, hosted many hot events: Panther Night, the World Ball and the Grand Gala among others. There are three rules of thumb: beautiful, flirtatious and apparently unescorted women are either escorted by huge, jealous cachaca-crazed men wielding machetes, or else they are really men dressed up as women; everything costs several times more within the club than outside; and finally, don't bring more money than you're willing to lose â&#x20AC;&#x201D; the club bouncers are big, but not that effective. The Sambodromo Parades In the sambodromo, a tiered street designed for samba parades, the Brazilians harness sweat, noise and confusion and turn it into art. The 16 top-level samba schools prepare all year for an hour of glory in the samb6dromo. The best escola is chosen by a hand-picked set of judges on the basis of many components including percussion, the samba enredo (theme song), harmony between percussion, song and dance, choreography, costume, storyline, floats and decorations and others. The championship is hotly contested; the winner becomes the pride of Rio and Brazil. The parades begin with moderate mayhem, then work themselves up to a higher plane of frenzy. The announcers introduce the escola, the group's colors and the number of wings. Far away the lone voice of the puxador starts the samba. Thousands more voices join him, and then the drummers kick in, 600 to 800 per school. The booming drums drive the parade. This samba enredo is the loudest music you're ever likely to hear in your life. The samba tapes flood the air waves for weeks prior to the beginning of Carnaval. From afar the parade looks alive. It's a throbbing beast â&#x20AC;&#x201D; and slowly it comes closer, a pulsing, Liberace-glittered, Japanese-movie-monster slime-mould threatening to engulf all of Rio in samba and vibrant, vibrating mulatas. The parades begin with a special opening wing or abre-alas, which always displays the name of the school and the theme of the escola. The whole shebang has some unifying message, some social commentary, economic criticism or political message, but it's usually lost in the glitter. The abre-alas is then followed by the comissao de frente, who greet the crowds. The escola thus honors its elderly men for work done over the years. Next follow the main wings of the escola, the big allegorical floats, the children's wing, the drummers, the celebrities and the bell-shaped Baianas twirling in their elegant hoop skirts. The Baianas honor the history of the parade itself, which was brought to Rio from Salvador da BRAZZIL -FEBRUARY 1997

Bahia in 1877. The mestre-sala (dance master) and portabandeira (standard bearer) waltz and whirl. Celebrities, dancers and tambourine players strut their stuff. The costumes are fabulously lavish: 11/2 meter-tall feathered headdresses, ;flowing sequin capes, rhinestone-studded G-strings. The floatsrgush neo-baroque silver foil and gold tinsel. Sparkling models sway to the samba, dancing in their private Carnavals. All the while the puxador leads in song, repeating the samba enredo for the duration of the parade. Over an hour after it began, the escola makes it past the arch and the judges' stand. There is a few minutes' pause. Globo and Manchete TV cranes stop bobbing up and down over the Pepsi caps and bibs of the foreign press corps. Now garbage trucks parade down the runway clearing the way for the next escola. Sanitation workers in orange jump suits shimmy, dance and sweep, gracefully catch trash thrown from the stands and take their bows. It's their Carnaval, too. The parade continues on through the night and into the morning, eight more samba schools parade the following day, and the week after, the top eight schools parade once more in the parade of champions. Getting tickets at the legitimate prices can be tough. Many tickets are sold 10 days in advance of the event; check with Riotur on where you can get them, as the outlet varies from year to year. People queue up for hours and travel agents nd scalpers snap up the best seats. If you do happen to bu a ticket from a scalper (don't worry about finding them they'll find you), make sure you get both the plastic ti ket with the magnetic strip and the ticket showing the eat number. Different days have different colored ticke s, so check the date as well. But don't fret if you don't get a ticket. It's possible to see the show without paying an arm and a leg. The parades last eight to 10 hours each and no one can or wants to sit through them that long. Unless you're an aficionado of an escola that starts early, don't show up at the sambodromo until midnight, three or four hours into the show. Then you can get tickets at the grandstand for about $16. And if you can't make it during Carnaval, there's always the cheaper (but less exciting) parade of champions the following week Places to Stay Rio has a Star system. Hotels are ranked from one star for the cheapest to five for the most luxurious. Rio has 12 five-star hotels to choose from, 17 four-star hotels, 27 three-star hotels, 29 two-star hotels, three one-star hotels and 47 hotels unclassified by Embratur (our specialty), but still regulated. Hotels which are not regulated by Embratur sometimes slip in additional charges and other assorted petty crimes against the tourist. Threaten to call Sunab price regulation if this happens, discuss a price before accepting a room, and also ask if a 10% service charge is inchided. At Carnaval time, hotel prices go up and everyone gives dire warnings of no place to stay. For the past couple of years, however, there have been enough rooms, as many people go to other cities for Carnaval. Entertainment To find out what's going on at night, pick up the Jornal do Brasil at any newsstand and turn to the entertainment section. On Fridays they insert an entertainment magazine called Piâ&#x20AC;˘ograma which lists the week's events. If you can't deal with another word of Portuguese, the big shows and fancier clubs will have announcements in the Brazil Post. Nightlife varies widely by the neighborhood. Leblon and Ipanema have up-market, trendy clubs with excellent jazz. Botafogo has cheaper, popular clubs with more dancing and Samba. Cinelandia and Lapa in the center have a lot of amba and pagode and are also the heart of 35

gay Rio. Copacabana is a mixed bag, with some good local hangouts but also a strong tourist influence with a lot of sex for sale. Entertainment is less organized and more spontaneous in Rio than you'd expect. Much of Rio's nightlife happens on the streets, in front of bars, in restaurants, anywhere outside with room to drink and sing. Most bars stay open until 4 AM on busy weekend nights and to around 2 AM other nights. Centro & Lapa Getting a taxi late at night in Lapa or Cinelandia isn't a problem; there is also limited bus service all night long. You can catch buses to the zona sul along the Praca Mahatma Gandhi on Avenida Luis de Vasconcelos. Samba Schools As early as October or November the samba schools begin holding rehearsals and dances, typically on Saturday nights. These are generally open to the public for watching and joining in the samba. Almost all the escolas de samba are on the north side of town and, of course, things get going late, so you need a car or a taxi. Check with Riotur or the newspaper to get the schedules and locations. Each school has a club/arena but they also hold rehearsals around town. The school addresses are: Portela Rua Clara Nunes 81, Madureira Mocidade Independente de Padre Miguel Rua Coronel Tamarindo 38, SAo Clemente Rua Assuncao 63, Botafogo Imperio Serrano Avenida Ministro Edgard Romero 114, Largo de Madure Ira Mangueira Rua Visconde de Niter6i 1072, Manueira Beija Flor Rua Pracinha Wallace Paes Leme 1562, Nilopolis Imperio da Tijuca Rua Conde de Bonfim 1226, Usina da Tijuca .Z Big Shows Circo Voador under the Arcos da Lapa is a big tent with reggae, samba and trio eletrico music. The crowd is mostly from the north side. It's one of my favorites and is very reasonably priced. They get many of the best bands from Bahia and Sao Paulo. Their Sunday night dance gets really crowded. It starts at 11 PM and goes till late. Down the block is Asa Branca. They have samba and pagode shows that aren't for tourists, though they are staged shows. Scala, Plataforma I and Oba Oba have expensive Vegas-style shows with naked samba. Scala II has many top musicians like Gilberto Gil playing there these days. It's a show house, flashy and artificial, but I'd go anywhere to see a Gil show. Pao de Acitcar has a regular performance of the samba school Beija Flor on Mondays from 9 PM to 1 AM. It's expensive and touristy, but it's samba. Carioca Nights are held Fridays and Saturdays from 10 PM to 4 AM. Mostly rock, but not always, the shows are not terribly expensive and are under the small pavilion on Morro da Urca —the first stop to Sugar Loaf. It's a spectacular view. Canecao also gets the big stars of music. It's right next to the giant Rio Sul shopping mall at the entrance to the Copacabana tunnel. Maracanazinho is the smaller stadium next to Maracana in Sao Cristovao. The biggest shows, like Milton Nascimento, play there. Parque Catacumba, along the lake, often has free outdoor concerts on Sundays at 5 PM. Check the newspaper. AZZiaZIWIRD Discos There are many discos with bright lights and loud 36

music in the big city, but I can't help you much here if you're interested — pick up a tourist brochure. Interestingly, many of the discos have stiff dress codes and admission charges, designed in part to deter the many prostitutes who come to meet tourists. Some are even called private clubs and require you to pay $20 through a concierge at your five-star hotel in order to enter. Help calls itself the biggest disco in Latin America and no one seems to doubt it. It's at Avenida Atlantica 3432 in Copacabana. Lots of drunken gringos seem to get robbed just outside. Caligola in Ipanema is where the rich and famous hang out. The current favorite is Resumo da Opera; it's in Lagoa at Avenida Borges de Medeiros 1426. Things to Buy Most stores are open Monday to Friday from 9 AM to 7 PM (some stay open even later). Saturday is a half-day of shopping, from 9 AM to 1 PM. The malls usually open from 10 AM to 10 PM, Monday to Friday, and 10 AM to 8 PM on Saturdays. It's illegal for stores to open on Sundays. Pe de Boi — This store sells the traditional artisan handicrafts of Brazil's Northeast and Minas Gerais, and it's all fine work. There's lots of wood, lace, pottery and prints. It's not an inexpensive store; you have to buy closer to the source to get a better price, but if you have some extra dollars these pieces are the best gifts to bring home from Brazil: imaginative and very Brazilian. The small store is worth a visit just to look around. Ana Maria Chindler, the owner, knows what she's selling and is happy to tell you about it. Pe de Boi (Bull's Foot) is in Botafogo on Rua Ipiranga 53. It is open Monday to Friday until 7 PM and on Saturdays from 10 AM to 1 PM. FUNAI— Brazil's Indian agency has a tiny craft shop at Avenida Presidente Wilson 16-A (it's actually around the corner from the main entrance). Open Monday to Friday from 9 AM to noon and 1 to 6 PM, the store has woven papoose slings, jewelry, and musical instruments. Casa Oliveira — This beautiful music store is at Rua da Carioca 70 in Centro — Rio's oldest street. It sells a wide variety of instruments, including all the noise makers that fuel the Carnaval baterias (rhythm sections), a variety of small mandolin-like string instruments, accordions and electrictguitars. These make great presents and it's a fun place tOplay even if you don't buy. Rio Sul — Brazilians, like Americans, seem to measure progress by shopping malls. They love to shop at these monsters. Rio Sul was the first mall to maul Rio. There are all kinds of stores. The C&A department store has a good range of clothes and is inexpensive. Rio Sul is right before you enter the Copacabana tunnel in Botafogo. There are free buses from Copacabana. Bum Bum — Since your bathing suit has too much fabric attached to the seams, resign yourself to buying a new one. Bum Bum is the trendsetter of the bikini world, and it knows it. It's not cheap, but you're paying for style not fabric. It's in Ipanema at Rua Visconde de Piraja 437. If you're on a budget, there are plenty of other boutiques that sell bikinis for less money but with just as little fabric. Ki-Tanga is a good example. Hippie Fair—This is an arts and crafts fair with many booths selling jewelry, leather goods, paintings, samba instruments clothes, etc. There is some awful stuff here and some OK stuff. Prices go way up during the peak tourist season and the air rings with the sounds of New Yorkers hunting down good buys. The fair takes place every Sunday at the Praca General Osorio in Ipanema. But you can find the same items at Praca 15 de Novembro in Centro or at the northern end of Copacabana beach. If you're just beginning to travel in Brazil, skip it. Nordeste or So Cristevao Fair — The nordeste fair is held at the Pavilhao de Sao Cristovao on the north side BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

of town every Sunday, starting early and going until about 3 PM. The fair is very Northeastern in character. There are lots of barracas (stalls) selling meat, beer and cachaca, bands of accordions, guitars and tambourines playing the forro; comedy, capoeira battles and people selling magic potions. It's a great scene. Of course there's plenty to buy. Besides food, they have lots of cheap clothes, some good deals on hammocks and a few good nordeste gifts like leather vaqueiro (cowboy) hats. If you're ready for adventure and have a car, it's best to arrive the night before the market. This is set-up time and also party time. At about 9 or 10 PM the barracas open for dinner and beer. Some vendors are busy setting up, others are already finished. Music and dance starts, and doesn't stop until sunrise. It's great fun so long as you're careful. Getting There & Away Air From Rio, flights go to all of Brazil and Latin America. Shuttle flights to Sao Paulo leave from the conveniently located Aeroporto Santos Dumont, in the city center along the bay. Almost all other flights domestic and national — leave from Aeroporto Galeao. Incoming visitors at Galeao pass through customs and then continue into a large lobby where there's a tourist information counter run by a private company called RDE which can arrange hotel and taxi reservations. The staff also try to palm off a 'travelers passport' for the outrageous sum of $25, and attempt to pressure befuddled travelers with the argument that government regulations require purchase of this junk package. This is a load of nonsense and a blatant rip-off attempt. All three major Brazilian airlines have their main offices in the center (metro stop Cinelandia). You can also walk over to Aeroporto Santos Dumont where they have ticket counters and make reservations from there. Bus From Rio, there are buses to everywhere. They all leave from the loud Novo Rio Rodoviaria, Avenida Francisco Bicalho in Sao Cristovao, about 20 minutes north of the center. At the rodoviaria you can get information on transport and lodging if you ask at the Riotur desk on the ground floor. Excellent buses leave every 15 minutes or so for Sao Paulo (six hours). Most major destinations have leito (executive) buses leaving late at night. These are very comfortable. Many travel agents in the city sell bus tickets. It's a good idea to buy a ticket a couple days in advance if you can. Getting Around To/From the Airport All international and nearly all domestic flights use Gala() international airport, 15 km north of the city center on Ilha do Governador. Aeroporto Santos Dumont is in the heart of the city on the bay. It's used for the Sao Paulo shuttle and some flights to a variety of other destinations like Porto Seguro or Belo Horizonte. You can take the same bus as for Galeao airport or get to the city and take a taxi, or simply walk to the airport from Centro. Bus — air-conditioned There are two air-con airport bus routes operating from 5.20 to 12.10 AM, every 40 minutes to one hour. One route gOes to the center and to Santos Dumont airport, the other route goes to the city center and along the beaches of Copacabana, Ipanema, Leblon, V idigal, and Sao Conrado. The driver will stop wherever you ask along the route. On both routes, you can stop at the rodoviaria if you want to catch a bus out of Rio immediately. If you want to catch the metro, ask the driver to let you off right outside the entrance to Carioca metro station. You can catch the bus on the 2nd floor (arrivals) of the BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

main terminal, at the Galeao sign. The tourist desk inside the airport has schedule and price information. If you're heading to the airport you can get the bus in front of the major hotels along the beach, but you have to look alive and flag then down. The bus company is Empresa Real. Gala() shotdd be written on the direction sign. It is safe to catch one of these buses or take a taxi rather than local bus if you have many valuables. Bus — I cal On the f r corner, to your right as you leave the main terminal at aleao, there is a small terminal for local buses on Ru Equador. There are bus numbers and routes posted, so it s pretty easy to get oriented. For Cop cabana, the best is bus No 126, 127 or 128. The best bu to Ipanema and Leblon is No 128, but you can also tak No 126 or 127 to Copacabana and then catch another bus o Ipanema and Leblon. For the udget hotels in Catete and Gloria, take bus No 170 ('avea — via Roque), which goes down Rua do Catete and then turns up Rua Pedro Americo and along Rua Bento Lisboa. If you want the Catete budget hotels, get off at the stop near the corner of Bento Lisboa and Rua Silveira Martins and walk a block down to Rua Catete. An alternative is to take any bus that goes to the center on Avenida Rio Branco. Get off near the end of Avenida Rio Branco and hop on the metro. Get off the metro at Catete station, which is in the heart of the budget hotel area. Taxi Many taXis from the airport will try to rip you off. The safe course i to take a radio-taxi, where you pay a set fare at the airport. This is also the most expensive way to go. A yellow-and-blue comum (common) taxi is about 20% cheaper if t4 meter is working and if you pay what is on the fare sch dule. Sharing taxi from the airport is a good idea. Taxis will take u to four people. To ensure a little bit of security, be ore entering the taxi at the airport you can usually get a receipt with the license plate of your taxi and a phone number to register losses or complaints. If you're headed to 4blon or Ipanema, the Tunnel Rebougas is more direct than the beach route. Bus The buse are a real mixture of the good, the bad and the ugly. Th good: Rio's buses are fast, frequent, cheap and, becaus Rio is long and narrow, it's easy to get the right bus an usually no big deal if you're on the wrong one. The ba : Rio's buses are often crowded, slowed down by tra fic and driven by raving maniacs who drive the buses as if they were motorbikes. The ugly: Rio's buses are th scene of many of the city's robberies. Don't ca ry any valuables on the buses. Don't advertise being a foreigner, and do have your money ready when you enter the bus. Be particularly cautious if you're boarding a bus in a tourist area. If you feel paranoid about something on the bus, get off and catch another. In additi n to their number, buses have their destinations, includ ng the areas they go through, written on the side. Nine oult of 10 buses going south from the center will go to Copacalbana and vice versa. All buses have the price displayed a ove the head of the money collector. The buses you ne d to catch for specific destinations are listed under indivi ual sights. There ar also special air-conditioned buses. The Castelo-Hot 1 Nacional and Castelo-Sao Conrado buses are good to take for Pepino beach. From the Castelo station ther are buses to Petropolis and Teresopolis, which saves trip out to the rodoviaria. There is an openair tourist b s that goes along the beaches and then over to Pao de A9 ' car. If you're staying in the Catete/Flamengo area and want to get t the beaches by bus, you can either walk to 37

the main roadway along Parque do Flamengo and take any bus marked `Copacabana' or you can walk to Largo do Machado and take the No 570 bus. Train

The train station, EstacAo Dom Pedro II, is at Praca Cristiano Ottoni on Avenida Presidente Vargas. To get there take the metro to Central station. Metro

Rio's excellent subway system is limited to points north of Botafogo and is open from 6 AM to 11 PM daily, except Sundays. The two air-conditioned lines are cleaner, faster and cheaper than buses (discounts are offered with multiple tickets). The main line from. Botafogo to Saens Pena has 15 stops, of which the first 12 are: Botafogo, Flamengo, Largo do Machado, Catete, G 1 Oria, Cinelandia, Carioca, Uruguaiana, Presidente Vargas, Central, Cidade Nova and Estado, which is common to both lines. At Estacio the lines split: the main line continues west towards the neighborhood of Andarai, making stops at Afonso Pena, Engenho Velho and Tijuca, and. the secondary line goes north towards MaracanA stadium and beyond. The main stops for Centro are Cinelandia and Carioca. Taxi Rio taxis are quite reasonably priced, if you're dividing the fare with a friend or two. Taxis are particularly useful late at night and when carrying valuables, but they are not a completely safe and hassle-free ride. First, there are a few rare cases of people being assaulted and robbed by taxi drivers. Second, and much more common, the drivers have a marked tendency to exaggerate fares. Here's how the taxi is supposed to operate: there should be a meter and it should work; there should be a current tabela to determine the fare; upon reaching

your destination, eck the meter and look that up on the tabela, usually po ed on the passenger window, which is used to determine he fare. Now, what to atch out for: most importantly, make sure the meter wo s. If it doesn't, ask to be let out of the cab. The meters h e a flag that switches the meter rate; this should be in the number one position (20% less expensive), exception Sundays, holidays, between 10 PM and 6 AM and wh n driving outside the zona sul (some taxis will switch t the high rate near the airport, which is legal). Make sure reters are cleared before you start (find Out the current sta ing number). Make sure the tabela is original, not a ph ocopy. The taxi drivers that hang out near the hotels are,sharks. It's worth walking a block to avoid them. Most ibeople don't tip taxi drivers, although it's common to round off the fare to the higher number. Car

Car rental ag cies can be found at the airport or clustered together on Avenida Princesa Isabel in Copacabana. Ther doesn't seem to be much price competition between th companies. Prices are not cheap, Excerpts from Bra:i1but they go down abit in the ..1 Travel Survival Kit off season. When ley give 2nd edition, prices on the phon the agenby Andrew Draffen, cies usually leave out the Deanna Swaney cost of insurance,iwhich is and Robert Strauss. mandatory. Most ,agencies will let you ,dropi off their For more information cars in another cit without call Lonely Planet: an extra charge. (800) 275-8555. Walking Copyright 1992 Lonely For God's sak be carePlanet Publications. ful! Drivers run rd lights, Used by permission. run up on sidewal and stop for no one and no$hing.

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ust when the richness and variety of samba seemed to be disappearing and its rhythm compromised by a thing called "swing," pure samba has returned. On the eve of Carnaval, Martinho da Vila, Arlindo Cruz & Sombrinha, Zeca Pagodinho, and Paulinho da Viola have released carefully produced recordings that serve as a public declaration for the integrity of a form that began 80 years ago with the official release of "Pelo Telefone" (On the Phone). Unique among this group of composers is Paulinho da Viola, an ambassador of samba, who has broken a silence in Brazil of almost eight years with the release of Bebadosamba (Drunk with Samba) on BMG. One of his most insightful projects, Bebadosamba is a manifesto for the veracity of samba and of Paulinho da Viola. Taking advantage of this momentous occasion, his former record company, EMI, decided to release Paulinho's complete EMI discography including some titles recorded during the original sessions that did not appear on the LP configurations. The eleven (out of print unavailable) LPs, recorded between 1968 and 1979, were digitally remastered in CD format at Abbey Road Studios in England and provide the listener an opportunity to re-evaluate the composer's role in the world of MPB (Brazilian Popular Music). Paulo Cesar Batista de Faria (Paulinho da Viola) is the son of Cesar Faria, the legendary choro guitar player who worked with Pixinguinha and Jaco do Bandolim during the period that came to be known as Epoca de Ouro (Golden Era). Paulinho was musically educated in his father's circuit of traditional MPB before it became contaminated by importations of North American rock, blues, and jazz. In the early 1960s Paulinho accompanied Rio's leading samba composers at Zicartola. The restaurant (operated by Cartola, the vener-

Pure Samba Paulinho da Viola turns bad luck into fodder for poetry and ends a silence of eight years. His absence from the studio, said the composer recently, was a productive time and had nothing to do with an artistic crisis. Bebadosamba, Paulinho's latest album, presents unadulterated samba to a new generation.

Through My Life) and other classics like "Nada de Novo" (Nothing New), "Tudo Se Transformou" (Everything Has Changed), and "Para Nao Contrariar Voce" (In Order Not to Contradict You). The recording is propelled by intense pandeiro, tamborim, cuica, and ganza rhythms, yet grounded by the infallible bass playing of Dininho (son of Dino Sete Cordas). With Foi um Rio Que Passou em Minha Vida, Paulinho established his intimate, clear, almost minimalistic ensemble sonority and solidified his partnership with pianist CristOvdo Bastos. During the military dictatorship (1964-85) Paulinho transferred the heart of samba into new formats and experimented with diverse combinations in order to protest the political situation ofthe country. Through humor and acute social sensibility, he described the mores of the country and created titles that became standards of the repertoire. Paulinho spoke of a marginal life with skill and sensitivity: Se o homem nasceu born E born nao se conservou A cu/pa ĂŠ da sociedade Que o transformou

BRUCE GILMAN able composer and co-founder of the escola de samba (samba school) Mangueira was the center of the choro and samba scene. Before the end of that decade Viola had participated in three of the Roda de Samba recording sessions alongside eminent sambistas like Ze Keti and Nelson Sargento. Pau linho's first recording as a featured artist, Na Madrugada (In the Dawn), was shared with his good friend from the old Aprendizes de Lucas samba school, Elton Medeiros. Indecisive on his solo debut in 1968, Paulinho used the conventional heavy strings and brass orchestrations so typical of the time and nearly suffocate tunes like "Coisas do Mundo, Minha Nega" (Things of the World, My Honey), "Doce Veneno" (Sweet Venom), and "No te DOi a Consciencia?" (Isn't Your Conscience Troubling You?) by composer Nelson Cavaquinho. Paulinho recorded "Coisas do Mundo, Minha Nega" for the second time on Memorias Cantando from 1976 in a more intimate setting. His third recording as a featured artist (second for EMI) in 1970 brought Portela's unofficial anthem, the emblematic "Foi urn Rio que Passou em Minha Vida" (There Was a River That Passed

If the man was born good And turns bad The blame is on the society That changed him Accepting his role as a chronologist, Paulinho wrote lyrics that the public understood but whose metaphors eluded the censors. Subordinating the vocabulary of the heart while respecting the origins of samba and choro, he tickled the dictatorship between the lines of "Meu Novo Sapato" (My New Shoe) and "Reclamacdo" (Complaint). He embraced the concept of ecology in the explicit samba enredo "Amor Natureza." And with the vision of a historian, he recovered lost pearls by building a virtual anthology of the masters of MPB from Noel Rosa to Cartola: BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

Cartola: "Acontece" (It Happens) "Amor Proibido" (Forbidden Love) "Vai Amigo" (Go My Friend) "Nao Quero Mais Amar a Ninguem" (I Don't Want to Love Anybody Else) Nelson Cavaquinho: "Depois da Vida" (After Life) "No te Doi a Consciencia?" (Isn't Your Conscience Troubling You?) "Duas Horas da Manha" (Two O'clock in the Morning) Noel Rosa: "Pra Que Mentir" (Why Should You Lie) Candela: "Filosofia do Samba" (Philosophy of the Samba) "Batuqueiro" (Drummer) Nelson Sargento: "Minha Vez de Sorrir" (My Time to Smile) Casquinha: "Mudei de Opiniao" (I Changed My Opinion) Ze Keti: "0 Meu Pecado" (My Sin) Pixinguinha: "Cinco Companheiros" (Five Friends) "Cuidado Colega" (Careful My Friend) Pixinguinha and Benedito Lacerda: "Segura Ele" (Hold Him) Ary Barroso: "Chorando" (Crying) Concerned with the orthodoxy of the samba, with Carnaval becoming a commercialized enterprise, and with the escolas selecting their Carnaval themes by the pressure from drug lords; Paulinho left Portela around 1974 to create the escola Quilombo. (Quilombo is now extinct; Paulinho returned to Portela in 1996.) At that time he wrote "Argumento": Ta legal Eu aceito o argumento Mas nil° me altere 0 samba tanto assim It's okay I accept the argument But don't alter my Samba so much Nonetheless, Paulinho's respect for tradition should not be confused with nostalBRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

gia for past times. His creativity and mus cal concept make him, above all else, a rejuve ator of traditional Brazilian music. Who isn't fam•liar with "Sinai Fechado" (Red Light)? Written in 1969 when military repression was at its heig t, it became the symbol of an era and winne of TV Record's music festival. "Roendo as Unh s" (Nail Biting), a samba where harmonies are res lved in unusual, unexpected ways, was also writt n when Brazil was under military rule and mirror .d a time when no one trusted his neighbor, when veryone was left alone with his worries in a socie where warm and personal communication has alw ys been an integral part of daily life. These tunes, full of musical daring an radical innovations, were recorded again in 19'3 when 'Paulinho returned to the studios after 4 year voluntary absence to record some of his big est hits on Samba e Choro Negro. The CD was reli ased by the World Network label in Europe, Japan and the United States, but not in Brazil. Technicians in the Impressao Digital Studios were desperate when they discovered how • aulinho wanted to record this CD. Rather than la ing one track on top of another, Paulinho decid d to do what he hadn't done since those early se sions at EMI when he had free use of the studio a d could bring ideas and musicians together infor ally; he opted to record like a live performance At the request of BMG, Paulinho did not rec rd new material.

Ale nto Viola° esquecido num canto 6 siterfeio Coracao encolhido no peitc) 6 despiezo Solidao hospedada no leito 6 ausencia A pitt)Ello refletida tlurri pranto, ai, 6 tristeza Urn olhar espiattclo o vazio C lembranca m desejo trazido no vento 6 saudade Urn desvio na curva do tempo 6 distancia urn poeta que acaba vadio, ai, 6 destino yitda A da gente misterie estrada do tempo 6 segredo 0 sonho perd.(1 pelho alento de ludo Oecsancao

9 fib do enredo 6 tnenura A historia do mtutdo 6 brinquedo 0 verso do samba 6 conselho E tudo o que eu disse 6 ilusAo

onifort A guitar forgo en in a corner is silertc .nkenhe. Solitude house absence

Passion reflect single tear, ah his is sadness Staring at the e ptiness is remembering wish brought on the wind is lehgle`g 4'dOiourin the rye of time is distance , And a poet that is lazy, is destiny Our life is a my ery The road oftini is a secrete , The dream lost s a mirror The comfort „ of , yerytittng, is song The thread, of e plot is a he The history„ oft e world is 4 toy The verse of e t$tt is adVrei' ,, And everything that' said is an illusion:

Samba e Choro Negro took 4 days to record and is a sort of "live greatest hits.” Paulinho's usual ensemble was on board for the date: Celsinho Silva, pandeiro ganza; Cesar Faria (his father), guitar; Dininho, bass; CristOvao Bastos, piano; Cabelinho, reco-reco, tamborim, surdo, ganza; Mestre Marcal, cuica; Hercules, drums; Amelia Rabello, vocals. These are players who have worked with him for years and know every nuance of his compositions. Fortunately, the singular nature of the project made his concept possible as both the performance and recording quality is exemplary. Recently Paulinho clarified that his absence from the studio had been a productive time and had nothing to do with an artistic crisis. After recording Eu Canto Samba in 1989, he gave many performances. In Sao Paulo he shared the stage with CristOvao Bastos and Joel Nascimento in a spectacular show that was awarded a prize for the best performance of 1995 by the Sao Paulo Association of Art Critics. He also wrote new works with his old partner Elton Medeiros. But he was plagued by a string of personal disasters: a large tree falling on his home, an armed assault on his wife and children, the flood in January 1996, and the fiasco surrounding the 1995 New Year's Eve show, an instance where both samba and Paulinho were seen as victims. The New Year's Eve homage to Tom Jobim was a performance for which Caetano Veloso, Chico Buarque, Gal Costa, Gilberto Gil, and Milton Nascimento each received $100,000; Paulinho received $35,000. On January 1, 1996, newspapers and magazines across Brazil focused on the incident, creating misunderstandings and severing friendships. When reports came out that Paulinho had received "a little less" than the other artists, he did not demand equal payment, nor did he discuss the

issue with the parties responsible. His only wish was to establish the truth. The Impost° de Renda (Income Tax) people wanted to know exactly how much he had received, and Paulinho made it clear publicly that he did not receive "a little less." Accounts of a trial to discover exactly what had happened started turning up in press reports and interviews with the different sides and created a tremendous amount of confusion with Paulinho at the center. The other artists became uneasy about the amounts they had received and about how it appeared to their fans. Some of them blamed Paulinho for their anxiety. Nevertheless, Paulinho's return to the studio was met with unanimous applause by the music world. After all, Paulinho da Viola is a watershed, a musician who can sense a mood more accurately than most, capture it, divine its very essence, and return it to the public in musical form with uncanny emotional expression. The sambista is a unique personality in Brazilian music who has never worried about releasing CD's every two years to keep up the momentum of his career like many of his colleagues. He doesn't promote his recordings with national tours, nor does he encourage inflated ad campaigns prior to a new release. Paulinho da Viola only records when he finds that he has something interesting to say in the form of samba. And this is the reason each of his recordings has become a "classic." Fortunately his record company acquiesces because Bebadosamba stands out from the others as a tribute to the illustrious sambistas of the past. Sprinkled with new ideas and a variety of recurring themes, Bebadosamba presents a history of pure samba to a new generation just when the richness and variety of the genre seemed to be disappearing. Radical in an era when the market has been dominated by groups that 42

sing ballads in samba rhythm, albeit with less syncopation and with keyboards supplying the harmony, Paulinho holds to the traditional instruments of samba: cavaquinho, violet°, cuica, ganzci, ago go, pandeiro, and tamborim and crafts the kind of samba that was mainstream before the appearance of pagode in the early 1980's, a subtle samba with intricate harmony. Few can remember the sambistas from the past that continue to inspire Paulinho da Viola. But the title track, "Bebadosamba," offers an evocation, a rhythmic intoning of reverence for some of the immortal ones: Cartola, Candeia (co-founder with Paulinho da Viola of the escola Quilombo), Nelson Cavaquinho, Pixinguinha, and Donga, among others who helped define Brazilian music and Paulinho's peerless sound. It begins with a poetic dialogue between Paulinho and Boca. The lyrics spoken like a lament, almost whispered and without melody give you shivers:

Discography 1996 1996 1993 1989 1983 1982 1981 1979 1978 1976 1976 1975 1973 1972 1971 1971 1970 1968 1968 1967 1966 1965

BMG Bebadosamba Geraccio Samba (compilat.) WEA World Network Samba E Choro Negro RCA Eu Canto Samba WEA Prisma Luminoso A Toda Bora Rola WEA uma Estoria WEA Paulinho da Viola EMI Zumbido EMI Paulinho da Viola EMI Memories Chorando EMI Memories Cantando EMI Amor a Natureza EMI Nervos de Ago EMI Dance da Solidao EMI Paulinho da Viola EMI Paulinho da Viola (same year and title but different tracks) Foi um Rio que Passou EMI em Minha Vida EMI Paulinho da Viola RGE Samba na Madrugada RCA Roda de Samba vol.3 Musidisc Roda de Samba vol.2 Musidisc Rode de Samba

E eu, Boca, como sempre perdido, Bebado de samba e outros sonhos Choro a lcigrima comum, Que todos choram And I, Boca, as usual lost, Drunk with samba and other dreams Cry a common tear That everyone cries The opening track, "Quando o Samba Chama" (When the Samba Calls), explains Paulinho's decision to be silent for so long and reveals how he can turn bad luck into fodder for poetry: Se algum pensamento que vem nilo seduz 0 poeta decline Daquilo que ele não sente E o silencio e o peso que ele conduz. If some thought that comes doesn't seduce The poet declines BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

From that which he does not feel And the silence is the weight that he bears. The beautiful "Dama de Espadas" (Queen of Spades), introduced by a piano part reminiscent of French composer Erik Satie, validates Paulinho as one of the rare composers of samba who can innovate without loosing the essential characteristics of the form. To demonstrate the difference between today's samba enredo and the old exaltations to the escolas de samba, Paulinho recorded "0 Ideal E Competir" (The Ideal Is to Compete), with the "Old Guard" of the Portela escola furnishing a warmth unusual for a studio session. The ensemble's exemplary performance of"E Dificil Viver Assim" (It's Hard to Live This Way) in the old style of backyard samba etches the tune's refrain and tamborim rhythm into your memory and demands one more listening. There are also some surprises in the repertoire, like the ethereal "Alento" with the reflective lyrics and music of Paulo Cesar Pinheiro and the partnership of Paulinho and Ferreira Gullar on "Solucao de Vida" (Solution in Life), an ideological review of life, full of syncopation and featuring the flawless flute work of Aquarela Carioca's Mario Seve. And the duo of Paulinho and Elton Medeiros, which began more than 30 years ago, is back with "Ame" (Love), a tune offering some good advice and punctuated by a crack horn section guaranteed to have you on your feet. Recalling a year when the composer was jolted by setbacks, from the episode at the New Year's Eve show to the floods in Rio, there is an excess of tunes having disillusioned and aquatic metaphors like "Mar Grande" (Great Sea) written by Paulinho and Sergio Natureza; "Timoneiro" (Helmsman) with lyrics by Herminio Bello de Carvalho; and "Novos Rumos" (New Routes), an old hit by Orlando Porto and Rochinha originally recorded in the 1950's by Silvio Caldas: Todos os anos vividos Stio portos perdidos Que eu deixo pra tras All the years lived Are lost harbors That I leave behind The lyrics and melody of "Mar Grande" confirm how natural it ' is for Paulinho da Viola to create a timeless sound that is influenced more by his esthetic convictions than by waves that agitate the recording industry. "Mar Grande" is a slow, floating composition co-arranged by Cristovao Bastos: Ntio quero mar de marola Das praias da moda Na rebentaccio I don't want a calm sea Folding up on the sand Of the fashionable beaches Although it seems the public couldn't care less that the language of samba has become distorted and jeopardized by a growing number of popular artists, it is hard to ignore the return of a musician who for over three decades has eloquently captured the political and social conditions of his time and expanded the limits of samba without disfiguring its essence. Paulinho da Viola has come back to enchant and to demonstrate it is impossible to talk about samba as a form frozen in time. Bruce Gilman plays cuica for Mocidade Independente Los Angeles, received his MA from California Institute of the Arts, and teaches English and ESL in Long Beach, California. You can reach him through his E-mail: cuica@interworld.net BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

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Short Takes JORGE DA SILVA With a warm voice that's instantly recognizable with the smoky warmth of a Brazilian churrasco, Kenia has returned to the forefront of Brazilian music in the US with her new album The Ivan Lins Project, featuring Ivan Lins and husband Jay Ashby. It's been a long road back for Kenia, who just a few short years ago, stood ready to move her career into high gear with a new radio format and a polished poised sound courtesy of Zebra Records. But the evolution of "New Age" on the radio dial into smooth jazz soon left Kenia on the distant horizon, and when Zebra Records folded in the early 1990s, Kenia looked to pursue a jazzier direction, with only mixed results.

Surv ying the musical landscape of Brazil is sometimes a d unting task. And sometimes its brings mixed results. With Brazilian critics trying desperately to name th next Elis, or Gal it becomes difficult to understand either the artist or the critic's point of view as they search for that elusive goal. And all too often that search leads nowhere for the music fan, who ends up wondering what all the fuss is about in the first place. But Kenia is a Brazilian original, building a bridge to the next generation of Brazilian music fans by following in the footsteps of Astrud Gilberto, the closest I can think of in terms of Kenia's ability to translate hat wonderful sense of saudade and spice that her s ngs provide. One c n't listen to Kenia sing without appreciating her artistr . Her voice can suspend time, and it can lead you to thi k about nothing at all, even ifjust for a few minutes, nd in this day that's nothing short ofmiracubus.

The Ivan Lins Project is the latest chapter in Kenia's career. Before moving to the US in 1980, she worked Rio's nightclub circuit and listened to a wide variety of pop and jazz artists while developing her own unique sound. She appeared on trumpeter Claudio Roditi's Red on Red album and also sang on James Taylor's memorable "Only a Dream in Rio" recording. When I first became interested in Brazilian music nearly ten years ago now, there wasn't really that much out there for me to explore, but among the Astrud Gilberto reissues and Stan Getz classics, I came across Kenia's first two albums by accident. The brightly colored artwork of Initial Thrill caught my eye and her singing captured my imagination. Carioca (from Rio) by birth, singer by trader, Kenia embodies the best of the modern Brazilian sound. It's a romantic cross between pop and bossa that plays well with the images that only a sunny day or a romantic night in Rio can conjure up. With The Ivan Lins Project Kenia makes a welcome return to the style that suits her best, and in a marketplace filled with many singers bent on following the new Brazilian trend into street samba and rap, that's good news for all of us.

A master navigator of sound, Sergio Mendes takes us on a musical voyage, combining the class of smooth jazz with the sophistication of Brazilian music and the rhythmic drive of global fusion.

The Ivan Lins Project is a collection of songs penned by the famous songwriter, and while this has been done before, it rarely has been done so well. One of the major reasons for this is Kenia's affinity with Lins' music. Both are well suited for each other in ways that recall Antonio Carlos Jobim and Joao Gilberto. Making this point almost overstates the obvious, but it's a point well worth repeating, if for no other reason that, while Lins is widely regarded as one of the world's best pop composers, his recordings can vary from brilliant to middle of the road. Kenia's interpretation of Lins is what sets this album apart from every other Lins' project since Mark Murphy's 1986 Night Mood album. Both albums share the same approach to artistic success: unmatched enthusiasm for the material and a unique style that compliments both the lyrics and the melody. On Kenia's album, Ivan appears as a special guest on two tracks "Even You & I" and "Closer to Me," both with English lyrics. All 13 songs shine in brilliant contrast: the sentimental respect of "Meu Pais," the soft bossa pacing of "Into the Light." Tight arrangements frame such Lins favorites including "Who's in Love Here" and the jazzy samba "Desesperar Jamais" featuring Jay Ashby's smooth trombone play, which recalls Kenia's initial recordings which a certain nostalgic joy. Others like "Answered Prayers" and "Mudanca dos Ventos" showcase Kenia's passion for a Lins melody, especially when the arrangements compliment her style. Kenia represents an important link in the Brazilian musical idiom. She at once can create a contemporary vision of the best in Ivan Lins songbook, and then turn it around to make the melody her own. She owns the songs she sings by virtue of her ability to translate the emotional messages with her vocal warmth.

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HELPING HAND The work of the recently created Council of Brazilian Citizens is bearing fruit all over the US. The San Francisco consulate-general of Brazil, one of the most active in the country, has just released a series of seven booklets in Portuguese with helpful hints and information for Brazilians in Northern California. The 24-page booklet entitled Consular Information, for example, explains what the consulate does and details procedures, such as getting a power of attorney, reacquiring Brazilian nationality, or securing the proper papers to travel to Brazil. Another pamphlet called Health Services has a list of public and private health facilities and services in the Bay Area. Other booklets deal with education, labor relations, emergency situations, and AIDS information. Brazilians are encouraged to visit the consulate to receive the free information. Call (415) 981-8170.

BACK BY REQUEST

Reggae, pop, samba, axe â&#x20AC;&#x201D; he ha The newest CBS network star is a sung it all. Brazilian musician Sueld young Brazilian actor who became Soares' s eclectic repertoire has take known in the US after his role in the him to numerous festivals in his homeBrazilian Oscar-nominated film, 0 land and overseas. Recently, he has Quatrilho. broadened Bruno Camhis range by pos, 23, has perform in been living in at Jamaica' the United Reggae Fes States since tival and the childhood taking Sa and has studFrancisco' Unio ied scenic Square by arts at Chistorm during cago's Brazil's In- Northwestdependence ern UniverDay celebrasity. The actor was chosen to play tion. He was also the opening act for alongside Danny Aiello, Joe ManBrazilian singer Jorge Benjor when he made his performing debut in San Fran- tegna, and Daryl Hanna in the upcomcisco in November. Now Sueldo is ing CBS miniseries, The Last Don, back in the Bay Area for a longer show based on Mauro Puzo's novel. Says at the 28'h Annual Friends of Brazil the young thespian: "I've had many a Carnaval Ball at the Galleria, on Feb- stumble, but after knocking from door ruary 8. For more information, call to door, I'm conquering a place under (415) 334-0106. the sun.

Learn Another Language on Your Own!

MEAT PLACE After many years of listening to Americans complaining that they could not find in New York a churrascaria rodizio (a barbeque restaurant in which all kinds of meats and sausages grilled on skewers are continually brought to the table until the customer begs for mercy and ends the flow) Brazilian businessman JoAo Mattos decided to put an end to the whining. The owner of BACC Travel and the monthly newspaper, The Brasilians, joined forces with Luiz Gomes, who already owns a Brazilian-food restaurant, the Via Brasil, to open a Plataforma restaurant just a few steps from Times Square. Plataforma is a famous churrascaria in Rio and its owner, Alberico Campana , is a minority investor in the American venture. The investment was high: $3.5 million. Eight of the workers, including the chef churrasqueiro, were brought from Brazil. On weekdays, the Plataforma New York only opens for dinner. The price is $27 per person not including beverage, gratuity, and taxes. The address is: 316 West 49th Street, New York. Tel.: (212) 245-0505

SOUTHERN STAR

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FEIRA LIVRE OPEN MARKET BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY

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Jornais e revistas do Brasil. Recebemos jornais diarios e todas as principais revistas, incluindo masculinas e femininas. Tel. (800) 589-5884

GOURMET TRAVEL

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NEWSPAPERS & MAGAZINES

WOMAN SEEKS MAN

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FEIRA LIVRE RATES: 500 a word. Phone is one word. DISCOUNTS: For 3 times deduct 5%, for 6 times deduct 10%, for 12 times deduct 15%. POLICY: All ads to be prepaid. Ads are accepted at our discretion. Your canceled check is your receipt. Please, include address and phone number, which will be kept confidential. DEADLINE: The 25th of the month. Late material will be held for the following month if appropriate. TO PLACE AD: Send ad with check, money order or your Credit Card number (plus your name and expiration date) to: BRAZZIL P.O. Box 42536 Los Angeles, CA 90050-0536.

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calendar - february 97 - u.s.a. 11=1.111ituJ1 BINA

TV & RADIO COAST TO COAST SHORT WAVE RADIO Radio Nacional da Amazonia - Daily, especially on

evenings and early morning - 6,180 & 11,780 Khz Radiobras - All universal time - From 12. noon to 1:20 PM, in English and from 1. 30 PM to 2:510 PM, in Spanish 15,445 Khz

BOSTON Coragao Brasileiro - Every Monday, 8:00 PM - 10:30 PM with Dennis Miller 88.1 FM - WMBR

Brazilian Style of Music Every Friday, 11. 00 am 2.00 pm, 91.5 FM, WMFO with Marion Catao

NEW YORK 8:00 PM - Samba Novo at SOB

BOSTON 8:00 PM - Samba Night with Tit)

Negwenya at The BookCellar Cafe (617) 864-9625

FORT LAUDERDALE 8:30 PM & 10:30 PM - Raizes do Brasil and show de mulatas at Bra-

zil Brazil - (954) 561-8200

ANAHEIM, CAL. 7:00 PM - Lois & guest at Ginga

Brazil

LOS ANGELES 9:00 PM - Tania Maria at Catalina

Bar & Grill (213) 466-2210

10:00 PM - ULA Samba Band at

ery Saturday, 10:00 pm Midnight, 95.5 FM, VVNUA with Scott Adams Show Brazil -Every Friday, 8:00 am - 11:00 am, 91.5 FM, WMFO with Edna Mo-

reno LOS ANGELES TV

Brazil TV - Continental,

Channel 38 (Fri - 9. 30 pm), Buena Vision, Channels 6 & 56 (Mon. - 8.30 pm), CVILBCTV, Channel 65 or 57 (Wed - 6.30 pm / Sat - 8.00 Pm) RADIO

Sounds of Brazil - Every Thursday, Noon - 2.00 pm, KPFK, 90.7 FM with Sergio

Mielniczenko Brazilian Hour - Every Saturday and Sunday, 9:00 am - 10:00 am, KXLU, 88.9 FM with Sergio Mielniczenko

MIAMI RADIO

Brazilians Love Jazz - Every Sunday, 8:00 pm- 10:00 pm with Gina Martelli -93.9 - Love 94

SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH 6:00 PM - Carnaval 97 at Greek Church

279 S. 300 West Salt Lake City

LAKE FOREST, CAL. 9:00 PM - Carnaval at Aldo's (714) 472-

2272

MIAMI BEACH, FLOR. 9:00 PM - Carnaval Verde Amarelo at

Ramada Hotel (305) 866-7718

GAINESVILLE, FLOR. 8:00 PM - Jacare Brazil at Center for Per-

forming Arts - University of Florida Ticketmaster

NEW YORK 8:00 PM - Katende at SOB

FORT LAUDERDALE, FLOR. 8:30 PM & 10:30 PM - Raizes do Brasil and

Zabumba .111.1116111MIAMIIMI

show de mulatas at Brazil Brazil (954) 5618200

LOS ANGELES

7:00 PM - Sergio 2000 with guest at Ginga

9:00 PM - Tania Maria at Catalina

Bar & Grill (213) 466-2210

POMPANO BEACH, FL 9:00 PM - Ricardo Fabio & Show de Mulatas at Brazilian Tropicana

Restaurant -(954) 781-1113

SAN FRANCISCO 6:00 PM - Entre Nos at Coconut

Grove

ANAHEIM, CAL. Brazil .111111.11.1 11.11=111E11

POMPANO BEACH, FLOR. 9:00 PM - Carnaval at Millenium (954) 782-

4010

9:00 PM - Ricardo FAbio & Show de Mulatas at Brazilian Tropicana Restaurant

-(954) 781-1113

SAN FRANCISCO 3:00 PM - Children's Carnaval at Bahia

CHICAGO The Sounds of Brazil - Ev-

with Sueldo Soares (415) 334-0106

CHICAGO

Cabana

8:00 PM - Bale Folclorico da Bahia at Madinah Temple, 600 N

Wabash - Ticketmaster

PITTSBURGH, PA 9:00 PM - Carnaval '97 at Rosebud (Strip District) (412) 922-4748

GAINESVILLE, FLOR. 8:00 PM - Jacare Brazil at Univer-

sity of Florida - Ticketmaster

HOLLYWOOD, FLOR.

CLAREMONT, CAL. 7:30 PM - Bale Folclorico da Bahia at

Bridges Auditorium, 450 N. College Way Ticketmaster

LOS ANGELES 6:00 PM - S6nia Santos & Ana Gazzola at

Olivera Street (213) 628-3562 8:00 PM - Axe at Zabumba

FRI 9

9:00 PM - Clauduarte SA at Brazil

Samba Café - (954) 920-4426

COCONUT GROVE, FL. 11:00PM - Live Brazilian music at Grove Place - (305) 448-2553

NEW YORK 8:00 PM - Brazilian Carnaval with Juliana

Aquino at SOB

HOLLYWOOD, FLOR.

LOS ANGELES

9:00 PM - Clauduarte SA at Brazil Samba

9:00 PM - Ana Gazzola at Cava 9:30 PM - MILA Samba School at Café Danssa 10:00 PM - Carnaval Party with ULA Samba Band at Zabumba

11:00 PM - Live Brazilian music at Grove

ANAHEIM, CAL.

Café - (954) 920-4426

COCONUT GROVE, FLOR. Place - (305) 448-2553

LOS ANGELES 7:30 PM - Neila at Luna Park (310) 652-

7:00 PM - Sergio 2000 at Ginga

0611

Brasil =IVA

7:00 PM - Lois sings Brazil at Ginga Brasil

NONE:11=11

LOS ANGELES 8:00 PM -3:00 AM- Brazil Carnaval '97 - Carnaval dos Angeles at the

Hollywood Palladium (213) 8527119 - Ticketmaster 8:00 PM - Katia Moraes at La Ve Lee 10:00 PM - Carnaval Party with ULA Samba Band at Zabumba

SAN FRANCISCO 8:00 PM - The 28th Friends of Brazil Carnaval Ball at the Galleria

ANAHEIM, CAL. IiiAYALA al I I El

111 I 1

NEW YORK 8:00 PM - Brazilian Carnaval with ,Juliana

Aquino at SOB

FORT LAUDERDALE, FLOR. 8:30 PM & 10:30 PM - Raizes do Brasil and show de mulatas at Brazil Brazil (954) 561-

8200

MIAMI BEACH, FLOR. 10:00 PM - S6 Preto Sem Preconceito at Eden Roc Hotel (954) 450-1772

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

calendar - february 97 - u.s.a. SAN FRANCISCO

NEWARK, NJ

9:00 PM - Aquarela and Carnaval Ball with Sueldo Soares at Bahia Cabana

9:00 PM - Brazilian Carnaval B II at Theater NSH, 1020 Broad St Ticketmaster

ANAHEIM, CAL.

SAN FRANCISCO

7:00 PM - Ana Robles at Ginga Brazil

LOS ANGELES

8:00 PM - Neila at Bahia Caba a

ANAHEIM, CAL.

8:00 PM - Neila in The Carnaval Continues at Los Andes Dance Club (Pico Rivera) (310) 928-1770 10:00 PM - Katia Moraes at Luna Park 9:00 PM - ULA Samba Band in postCarnaval Party at Zabumba

7:00 PM - Sergio 2000 at Gin a Brazil

LOS ANGELES 10:00 PM - ULA Samba Band Zabumba

SACRAMENTO, CAL. 9:00 PM - Lisa Silva & Voz do Brasil at Red Lyons (916) 922-8041 immuizjigavaimmo

BERKELEY, CAL. 9:00 PM - Adriana & Carlos Oliveira at Nino's

NEW YORK

SAN FRANCISCO

8:00 PM - Brazilian Carnaval with Juliana Aquino at SOB

9:00 PM - Alo Brasil show with Aquarela at

LOS ANGELES 8:00 PM - Neila at Calypso (310) 477-4255

SAN FRANCISCO 9:00 PM - Aro Brasil show with Aquarela at Coconut Grove

EIMITATI4

D10 I *1971%11MM=

1:111 z1

MIAMI 9:00 PM - Carna Miami at Intercontinental Hotel (305) 372-0091

HOLLYWOOD, FLOR. 9:00 PM - Clauduarte Sá at Brazil Samba Café - (954) 920-4426

ANAHEIM, CAL.

LOS ANGELES

ANAHEIM, CAL. 7:30 PM - Sergio 2000 at Ginga Brasil 11.111.116/AML1 '1ARMIMMIJ

CHICAGO 8:00 PM - Brazilian CarnavalFest 97 at Chicago Hilton and Towers (630) 759-0018

ANAHEIM, CAL. (714) 778-0266

BERKELEY ',Ashkenaz - 1317 San Pablo Ave. (510) 525-5054

Nino's - 1916 Martin L. King Jr. (510) 845-9303

LOS ANGELES 14 Below - 1348 14th St., Santa Monica - (310) 451-5040 Cafe Danssa - 11533 W. Pico BI. West L.A.- (310) 478-7866 Tony's - 701 Long Beach Blvd.

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

7:30 PM - Lois sings Brazil at Ginga Brasil 111.1111wecmiguam.

..."Inglyi Him im

11:00 PM -Ana Gazzola at Cava (213) 6586600 8:00 PM - Neila at Miracle Theater (Inglewood)

Ginga Brazil - 821 N. Euclid,

RADIO

LOS ANGELES

9:00 PM - Sueldo Soares at Nino's .111=1.11112MitliMIIIIMM

SAN FRANCISCO

11:00 AM - 10:00 PM - Third Brazilian Arts, Crafts and Video Fest at Fort Mason Conference Center Bldg A-1 - Free admission (415) 43716991

1111.14111

NBIN&:=111 MIAMI

8:00 PM - Os 30 Anos da Jovem Guarda at Gusman Center (305) 374-9920

(3 10) 628-9789 La ye Lee - 12514 Ventura BI.

SOB-200 Varick St. (212) 307-

- Studio City - (818) 980-8158 Zabumba -10717 Venice Blvd

Supper Club - 240 W. 47 St. (212) 921-1940

Culver City - (310) 841-6525

Scala Brazil - 35-50 31st St. -

MIAMI Brazil Samba Café - Hollywood (954) 920-4426 Scala Miami - (305) 371-5604

7171

Astoria (718) 937-0352

OAKLAND, CAL. Yoshi's - 6030 Claremont Ave. (510) 652-9200

NEW YORK

S. FRANCISCO

Blue Note - 131 West 3rd St. -

Bahia Cabana -(415)861-4202 Chambord - 152 Kearney St.

(212) 475-8592

Café Wha - 115 MacDougal St. - (212) 254-3706

Luqui Corporation - Jornal Bandeirantes - 11.00 pm 1:00 am, Dynamic ch. 20, S. South ch 41, Gold Coast ch. 44, DCI ch 45 NEW YORK

9:30 PM - Katia Moraes at La Lee

BERKELEY, CAL.

BTN (Brazilian TV Network) 11: 00 pm - 1:00 am, DCI ch. 40, S South ch. 51, Adelphia ch. 52, Gold Coast ch 99

SANTA MONICA, CAL.

7:00 PM - Samba Night with Stji san Farley, Deborah Rocha, a Maria Billings at The BookCell Café (617) 864-9625

COLUMBUS, OHIO

2:00 PM - Ana Gazzola at Santa Monica Pier concert m ilitilmatamin

BOSTON

8:00 PM - Bale Folclorico da Bahia at Mershon Auditorium - Ticketmaster

TV & RADIO

(415) 434-3688 Coconut Grove-(415)776-1616

Brasil corn S - Every Saturday, 9:00 PM with Judith King, 88 3 FM - WBGO Brazil Street Samba - Every Friday, 10:00 PM with Leo Costa & Alberto Lopes -89.9 FM - WKCR Radio AmazOnia - Every day, 6.30 PM on short wave - 6.185 MHZ TV Brazil Update - Every Saturday, 330 PM - Channel 69 Brazilians in America-TV Every Sunday, 5:30 PM - Channel 16 Media Flux: Brasil - Every Saturday, 4:00 PM - Ch 16 S. FRANCISCO Brasileirinho - Every Wednesday, 9.30 PM, KZSC, 88.1 FM with Renato Frota Brasil Musical - Every Sunday, 1.00 PM - 5 . 00 PM, Radio Bilingue, 91.5 FM via satellite, with Ricardo and Amarina Pugh - Fresno Canta, Brasil - Every Sunday, 6:00 PM - 8:00 PM - KKUP, 91.5 FM, with Xuxu, Maria Jose and David Heyman Programa de Domingo - Every Sunday, 1:00 PM - 2. 00 PM, KSQQ 96.1 FM with Lino Bugatti A Taste of Brazil - Every Sunday, 11:00 PM - 12:00 AM, KKSF, 103.7 with Dick Conte SO Da Brasil - Every Friday, 800 PM - 900 PM, KUSF, 90.3 with Jorge Lima & Simone Odom WASHINGTON, DC Waves of Patropi - Every Saturday, 6.00 PM - 9:00 PM, VVDCU, 90 FM with Andre Lacerda

Boston Area

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Samba (310) 628-9789 Summer Brazil (310) 455-1772 Books Clubs & Associations Livraria Plenitude Brazil-Cal. Chbr of Corn. (800) 532-5809 (213) 975-9237 Consulate Centro Cultural Gaucho (213) 256-6548 Consulado G. do Brasil M1LA - Samba School (617) 617-542-4000 (310) 391-6098 Dentist SambaLl -Esc. de Samba Sylvio P. Lessa (310) 628-9789 (617) 924-1882 Consulate Food & Products Brazilian Consulate Aqui Brazil (213) 651-2664 (617) 787-0758 Dentists Brasil Brasil Gilberto Henriques (617) 561-6094 (213) 464-0524 Jerry's Cachaca Events Promotion (617) 666-5410 Brasil 'N You Prom. Instruction (310) 928-1770 Approach Student Ctr Brazilian Nites Prod. (617) 787-5401 (818) 566-1111 Braz. & Amer. Lg. Inst. Pegasus - Parties & Ent. (617) 787-7716 (818) 549-0383 Music Health & Fitness Brazil CDs Herbs from Brazil (617) 666-3747 (213) 851-7016 Publications Westside Acupuncture The Brazilian Monthly (310) 914-1624 (617) 566-3651 Import/Export Bossa: Braz. Jazz Guide N & R International (617) 262-9997 (909) 626-3656 Restaurants Instruction Café Brazil Brasil Brasil Cult. Ctr (617) 789-5980 (310) 397-3667 I panema Modern Lang. Center (508) 460-6144 (310) 839-8427 Tropicilia Legal Services (617) 567-4422 Meimas & Ferraz Pampas Churrascaria (310) 360-0901 (617) 661-6613 Music Braz. Jazz /All Occasions 839-3788 (310) Consulate Jazz - Richard Samuels Consulado G. do Brasil (818) 798-5424 (312) 464-0244 Physician Translations Paulo Coharte Portuguese Lang. Ctr. (310) 285-9670 (312) 276-6683 Did° Rangel (310) 828-7454 Ingrid Rodi - Gynec. (310) 451-8144 Nilson A. Santos (213) 483-3430 Accountant Psychother/Counsel. Sheila Shanker Elizabeth Almeida M.A. (310) 836-3436 (310) 281-7536 Airlines Dr. Jefferson Si yang (818) 592-0402 (800) GO VAR1G Publications Vasp Brazzil (310) 364-0160 (213) 255-8062 Arts & Crafts Real Estate Bakari Art Studio Cent. 21 - Solon Pereira (213) 938-0523 (310) 633-0787 Folk Creations Cold. Banker -J. Freitas (310) 693-2844 (818) 304-9562 Culture Planet Restaurants & Cafés (310) 441-9808 Zebi Designs Bossa Nova (310) 391-6530 (310) 657-5070 Brazilian Tropical Auto Repair (714) 720-1522 Cosmo Auto Parts By Brazil (213) 259-9818 (310) 787-7520 Banks Café Brasil Banco do Brasil (310) 837-8957 (213) 688-2996 Ginga Brasil Catering (714) 778-0266 Lulu's Alibi Joy's Catering (310) 479-6007 (310) 438-3415 Yolie's Brazilian Steak Churches (714) 251-0722 Comunid. Evang. Bras. Zabumba (310) 793-8745 (310) 841-6525 Ministirios Renascer (888) RENACER

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New Port Tours (305) 372-5007 Venture Travel (305) 379-7678 Via Brasil Travel (305) 866-7580

New York N. Jersey

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yang (415) 986-5737 Vasp (800) 732-VASP Attorney

Manoel Faris (510) 537-3533 Ralph Baker (510) 444-8100 Auto Nilson Auto Body (415) 255-6717 Matts Auto Body (415) 565-3560 Beauty Salon Bibbo (415) 421-BIBO Carmen's International (415) 433-9441 Neyde's (415) 681-5355 Clubs & Associations B.A.S.O. (415) 661-2788 Bay Area Brazilian Club (415) 334-0106 Brazilian Cult. Movem. (415) 437-6991 Computer Micronet (415) 665-1994 Consulate Brazilian Consulate (415) 981-8170 Dance Instruction Aguarela (510) 548-1310 Brazil Culture & Arts (510) 215-8202 Ginga Brasil (510) 428-0698 ; Escola Nova de Samba (415) 661-4798 Samba do Cornea() (415) 826-2588 Samba, Swing & Suor (415) 282-7378 Dental Care Roberto Sales, DDS (510) 451-8315 Events Promotion F. B. C. Events (415) 334-0106 Nativa Productions (408) 286-9798 Food Brazilian Coffee Dist. (415) 648-5966 California Produce (415) 586-6200 HGC Imp. Wholesale (408) 947-8511 Instruction Portuguese- A. Frame (510) 339-9289 1 Portuguese Lang. Serv. (415) 587-4990 Money Remittance Brasil Express (415) 673-0262 Vigo (415) 863-0218 West Brazil (415) 695-9258 Music Cilia Malhetros (415) 738-2434 Damien's Intercambio (415) 595-2274 Fogo na Roupa (510) 464-5999 Marcos Silva (510) 945-0138 Terra Sul (415) 752-9782 Viva Brazil (415) 342-8508 Voz do Brazil (415) 586-2276 Musical Instruments Tamborim & Samba

(415) 871-2201 Physician Dr. Guilherme Salgado (415) 832-6219 Printing M. C. Printing (510) 268-8967 Publications Brazil Today (510) 526-1115 Brazzil (415) 587-4990 RestauriNight Clubs Bahia Cabana (415) 861-4202 Balboa Braz. Rest. (415) 387-1118 Café do Brasil (415) 626-6432 Café Mardi Gras (415) 864-6788 Canto do Brasil (415) 626-8727 Colusa Restaurant (415) 526-1500 Joao's Restaurant (408) 244-1299 Little Rio (415) 441-3344 Michelangelo Café (415) 986-4058 Nlozzarela Di-Bufala (415) 346-9888 Nino's (510) 845-9303 Paulo's Juice Bar (415) 437-0839 Stelladoro (415) 928-2662 Tropicana (408) 471-0294 Translation Port. Lang. Services (415) 587-4990 Travel Agencies Rio Roma (415) 921-3353 Santini Tours (510) 843-2363 Travel Americas (415) 334-0404 Tropical Travel (510) 655-9904 Tucanos Travel (415) 454-9961 Winship Travel (415) 863-2717

ashington DC Area Airlines Transbrasil (202) 775-9180 Va rig (202) 331-8913 Vasp (202) 822-8277 Banks Banco do Brasil (202) 857-0320 Banco do Est. de S. Paulo (202) 682-1151 Clubs & Associations Braz. Am. Cult. Inst. (202) 362-8334 Inst. of Brazil. Business (202) 994-5205 Embassy Embaixada do Brasil (202) 745-2700 Travel Agencies Intern. Discount Travel (703) 750-0101 Washington Travel (703) 527-6977 BRAZZ1L -FEBRUARY 1997

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An excerpt Call it a commute into the primeval. Boarding the lightrail connection for downtown Recife, I find my car full of a straphanging Amazon tribe. A load of make-believe braves model leather loincloths, fur wristlets, and headdress plumage. Some can't help shuffling their mock moccasins and breaking into a war dance. Others compare bodypaint designs. Nobody is shivering from all the exposed flesh nor does anyone giggle at the scene's incongruity. Miniature bows and a brace of tiny arrows click in time with the rattle of steel wheels. Only a few intruders — one overworked maid still wearing a baby-blue apron, a couple of fellow travelers with cheap plaid luggage at their knees — spoil the effect of this mass delusion on mass transit. It's as though one got on at Times Square and found only Apaches. Anyone crazy enough to arrive in a Brazilian city on the first night of Carnaval should not be surprised to find the asylum ruled by the inmates. Carnaval began in the seventeenth century with the entrudos, rude street games where colonists ambushed one another with wax projectiles full of foul fluids, including human wastes. Eventually, confetti became the harmless substitute for stink bombs. When black slaves began imitating the preLenten party, they just turned up the volume and loosened the dress-up code. Though it took nearly three hundred years for the event to break free from the shackles of European gentility, this was always a grace period in the class struggle, a revenge against reality. What stuns me is the ease by which a populace moves from the mundane to the theatrical; the matter-offactness with which internal reality is transformed into external mythology. Nothing like this could ever happen in any other country. If it did, Brazil would no longer need to exist. The closest I'll ever come to my idealized vision of a nation in sequins is this arrival amid Recife's caboclinhos, the term used for all these foot-stomping Indians-for-a-night. My subway escorts are but a foretaste of festivities which are considered more fervent and less commercialized than Rio's or Bahia's, Brazil's other major Carnaval sites. When our train emerges onto a final stretch of elevated track, I glimpse an uninterrupted lineup of apartment houses following the gentle outline of the ocean shore, gleaming white against charcoal storm clouds. Recife is no plebeian boom

Brazilian flag — each representing a state, though the Brazilian ones are scattered like the Milky Way — are dotted across what has become a roof. Recife's squatter encampments are immense collages, deconsstatements tructi on i st pieced together from building-block words. -Estado" or "Banco," the nose of President Collor or the slogan of some corrupt governador, the promises of politicians sliced up and finally put to good use. Beyond is what remains of the original port, dotted with colonial church spires sprawling across several interconnected, tear-shaped islets, separated by fingers of ocean which once caused Recife to be misnamed South America's "Venice." Recife could be Mombasa could be Tianjin could be Karachi another monstrous tumor of underdevelopment consigned to the margins of our world view. Like all of the above, this town is a reminder that the dominant experience of the Third World is no longer peasant but urban. As such, Recife functions as the cultural capital of the entire Northeast — Brazil's pious dust bowl, as poor in goods as it is rich in folklore. To this steamy magnet come primitivist masters who illustrate the region's cowpokes and Catholicism through arresting black-and-white woodcuts. In Recife, you can find practitioners of the literatura de cordel (literature on a string): roving oral historians who recite and publish in crude pamphlet form poetic paeans to the backcountry's epic bandits and lovers. And of course, the city siphons from the countryside most of the ambitious devotees of the Northeast's many musical forms. For Brazilians, Recife is synonymous with maracatu, both a wild beat and mythical personage adopted mostly by mulato farmhands from the Pernambucan countryside. And everyone in Bahia readily admits that their electric trios are powered by musical juice diverted from Recife's pet beat, the frevo ("fray-voo"), derived from the verb frevar, meaning "to excite." What makes Recife's Carnaval exciting is that Recife's environs contain four distinct Brazils. Crammed along miles of beach to the south, the Boa Viagem district is a staggering row of luxury condos standing as testament to the seventies' "economic miracle." Centro is a mix of flashy modernity, abandoned art deco, and outdoor markets packed with umbrellas

Anyone crazy enough to arrive in a, Brazilian city on the first night of Carnaval should not be surprise to find the asylum ruled by the mates.

town, but an amphibian monster. An Atlantis with malls! Pronounced "haysee-fee," derived from the word for the off-shore reef which protects its harbor, main port of the state of Pernambuco since the 1530s, coveted and conquered by the Dutch from 1631 to 1654, this is the fourthbiggest town in the nation. Three million Recifenses, at last count, make this the greatest concentration of wealth and labor on the east coast of South America for thousands of miles in either direction. Beneath the tracks, vast lots of swampland at the unclaimed edges of downtown have been consigned to the favelada, shantytowns as horizontal here as they are vertical in Rio. Job seekers from the drought-stricken backcountry have built boxy lean-tos out of discarded, sliced-up sections of billboards. On one corrugated piece of siding, just above a cut-out door, I recognize the big "L" from the electoral poster that exhorts "Lula LA!" ("Put Lula There!") The blue band of stars from the

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

barely capable of keeping a bounty of unusual is that the streets outside my guest Here, it's strictly frevo which pumps the fruits from succumbing to the heat. Im me- house are eerily abandoned. This may be communal heartbeat up.to rates of mass diately inland, austere villages set a mid due to the unquantifiable number of Bra- fibrillation. The martial rat-tat-tat of snare semiarid hills give a hint of the vast Nor th- zilians whose nonstereotypical response drums drives the accompanying brass seceastern "outback. - And if that's not to their country's rampant socializing is enough, there is Olinda, one of Braz il's clearing out of town. More eager Recifen- tion past double time, triple time into a noman's-land of notation. Trumpets and original capitals and among its best-p re- ses have already headed toward centro for trombones cascade like a roller coaster in served colonial relics, quarantined from the Gab o de Madrugada, a kickoff ritual sound. Old-fashioned frevo is Brazil's the twentieth century on a spit north of the named for a rooster who can hard! wait purest partying music: rollicking and ribcity. As storied a Carnaval setting as R io, crow. This first processional offrevo ban Is ald, always slipping off into sharps and Olinda's grubby taverns and hig h- on motorized carts is perversely rout flats. The proper accompanying dance, ceilinged mansions are home to t his through the narrowest and most hemme which few locals seem to bother with anylaidback nation's largest community of in back alleys of Recife's warehouse di more, is a kind of hippity-hopping clog artists and general layabouts. trict. Is this the Brazilian equivalent dance done under miniature parasols Of these distinct expressions of stuffing a telephone booth? This day, o switched furiously from side to side. This Carnaval, the caboclinhos are now t he newspaper headline — in t e lar free use of umbrellas and brass makes the east popular. While downtown has be en enough to trumpet thermonuclear hobofrevo closely allied to another Africanturned into one open-air tepee, the tribal caust — claims the guests on hand top one entourages prance past half-empty revie w- million. In the 100-degree heat, it feels American expression known as Dixieland. The Recife Carnaval is probably the nearing stands. Only a few old-timers ha ve like ten million. est relative of New Orleans' Mardi Gras. brought their beach chairs curbside for a And how do you add up all the folks In the environs of the Patio Sao Jose front-row view of the spectacle. A sing le peering down from balconies, sitting s centro's oldest commons now lined with judgebarks outa steady trill of announc e- casually on overhangs that they could b the hand-painted shingles of restored ments through a bullhorn. It's not ea sy fishing? Or the unaccountable souls stru shops, I stumble on some sights and sounds keeping order at this powwow—or dete r- ting half-naked on rooftops? What a mes unlike anything found along the Missismining which clan should receive prizes one sniper could make of this crowd! Fo sippi. Timeworn pedestrian alleys lead for most native nattiness. Teenage ki ds tunately, I'm in a country where peopl past warehouses to one baroque church from the countryside hop barefoot on ci ty climb to high places only so they ca after another. On the steps below an overasphalt, flap their feathers in a coord ibump and grind a little closer to God. Th done façade, a 3-D nightmare of gargoyles nated preening of resplendent wingspan s. human gauntlet before me resembles th and saints amid cascades of surf frozen in To keep everything going in time, they running of the bulls in Pamplona.He stone, a hundred gawkers are following a pull and release the tiny arrows attached to everyone is a rampaging bicho, the Brazil- wandering troupe of maracatu de tambores their bows. Better than turning swor ds ian term that's closer to beast than animal, — as in drums. A dazzling display of into ploughshares, their archery transform s connoting a mixture of disgust, respect, dueling congas shows me just how far weapons into instruments. and self-confession. The only relief from north toward the Caribbean I've come. In a country where endless wilderness the various forms of heat is offered with a The call of Mother Africa animates the has long provided symbolic shelter fro m generalized spritzing — a clear link to the night balm, but the Carnaval pose affected the abuses of man, who wouldn't want t e original custom of the entrudos — accomby these descendants of slaves is to mimic identify with the savage? Siding wit h plished with hoses, gas cans, and water eighteenth-century Portuguese nobility. history's losers is a way of conceding th at balloons. The city that showers together, Buxom queens in red velvet gowns, princes what's been lost is what's best. Yet fewe r cowers together. Once everyone is soaked and consorts wearing buckled shoes, feathand fewer are answering the annual sum - to their shorts, practical jokers make their ered caps, and general frippery, form a mons to get indigenous. The braves o f way flinging and dumping fairy dust from dazzling nobility of the street. Pernambuco are as outmoded as th e sacks of manioc flour. These honorary The ladies-in-waiting do more posing Knights of Columbus. These days, Brazil - chickens are ready for fricassee, battered than dancing. But they are served by a ians prefer to pose as Michael Jackson an d from the roots of their hair to their tennis contingent of candomble devotees, dizSaddam Hussein or at least invoke the i r shoes. In the topsy-turvy world of Brazil, zily spinning visions in white lace. Their Amazonian roots in a more sophisticate d there's no need for blackface, but a gen- butt-thrusting, head-bobbing evocation of manner. Begun in its mass form with th e eral whitening is always de rigueur. the ancestral gods is presided over by creation of Rio's samba schools less tha• An entirely new set of campers ma'es de santos, black and shriveled as seventy years ago, Carnaval is really a pies the esplanade that evening in Boa betel nuts beneath white kerchiefs. Then I fickle, twentieth-century affair. Economi c Viagem. Brazil's lengthiest urban beach notice something strange about their subconditions, the media, new fangled fabis so mobbed that it looks like the setting ries, an ads all impact the group psych e for some massive amphibious assault. The jects. Beneath the layers of petticoats embroidery, and holy beads, several of which finds outlet here. Brazil's big bash black trucks carrying musical groups are these whirling aunties aren't aunties at all. evolves with the speed of reverie, makin g stationed along the seaside like permanent One two-tin belle of the ball, a barefoot leaps in imagery as swift and disjointed a s fortifications against the tidal wave o dervish spinning furiously, wears a curly' in any dream. Carnaval obsolescenc e barefoot revelers. The food stands extend blond wig but has obviously forgotten to comes just as soon as a metaphor ceases to for miles, hot dogs stewing for hours in shave that morning. If this isn't confusing resonate. tomato sauce and squid-on-a-stick com- enough, most of these lost Baianas , dance By now, this anti-institutional exprespeting with truckloads of fresh coconuts with puppets held over their hands. On sion is the biggest of all institutions, one and the chalky dry griddle cakes made by close inspection, the bobbing dolls-on-along-lost weekend whose oblivion has tapioqueiras. Much in the manner of stick are but miniaturized versions of the taken all year to plan. Police lines, publicBahia's Barra district, this mostly middle- dancers, little voodoo entities in white. ity posters, parade orders, traffic rerout- class enclave is the setting for a Latino To get a taste of the uncorrupted, rural ing, drivers, vendors, and sweepers doing Animal House. The volume of raucous- maracatu, I've been recommended to an double time — all these are part of a ness makes foundations tremble in the outlying village called Tracunhaem. The mammoth organizational task in service high-priced condos oddly lined up at right thirty-kilometer trip takes another two of a most disorganized outcome. For this angles to the beach. Balconies look mostly hours, no doubt less time on days when the one period, efficiency reigns along with onto other balconies. Like the country's driver isn't recovering from the previous the Dionysian figurehead King Momo. In precarious prosperity, Boa Viagem is a night's alcoholic abuse. He stops as often Brazil, it's not some dictator, it's Carnaval house of stacked concrete cards about to as he can for beer and Popsicles and frethat makes the buses run on time. topple. quently wipes his nose on the company The only tip-off that the Saturday As in Salvador, live bands perform tie. The landscape we're driving through morning before Fat Tuesday may be a bit atop monstrous boom boxes on wheels. looks permanently hungover. This ribbon

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997 55

lanu. mui ming a transitional stage beween coastline and inland desert, is actuIlly the fertile Zona da Mata. The fields )f sugarcane are barely stubble at this orne of year. Most of the rolling hills are brown and painfully unshaded. It is hard to believe that things could get so dry so close to the ocean or that the desolate towns along this route could be so near the big city. Each stop reminds me of the frontier settlements depicted in the film Bye, Bye Brazil! The towns' only contact with the rest of the country came through the television antennae known in local slang as "fish bones.- No bones out here, no fish, no sea: just the obligatory church and >aloon eyeing each other from separate hides of main streets laid on the far side of the moon. The bleakness of the setting is compensated by the towns' outrageous color schemes, lime-green houses striped diagonally in orange, expanses of pink facade interrupted by baby-blue shutters. So far, the only evidence that Carnaval reaches out here is an afternoon dance at an agricultural hall. I can tell it's crowded ' by the number of local teenagers hitching their horses up at the door. At first glimpse, Tracunhaem looks no more lively. The bus lets me out at the bottom of a steep slope lined with typical stucco boxes. Three village boys, faces smudged, bare knees scraped as though part of their costume, race out of one house. Without a word of greeting, they start fashioning tiny birds, pigeons, and piglets from pieces of gray clay. Instead of shaking my hand, they thrust their instant creations into my palms. Pottery making is the main industry here, though it's never clear to me if these boys are trying to make a sale or just make me welcome. They are plainly tickled to lead a wayward Americano toward the one praca which defines their world. Up over the ridge, a large crowd has gathered in the shade of the church steeple. Their view is directed toward a small stage erected before a couple of bars. Unloaded from pickup trucks on their rounds from village to village, the next maracatu troupe is assembling at the foot of a far cobbled walkway. According to several drunken boasters, Tracunhadm is the most popular venue for the region's •wandering dancers. Despite inflation and belt-tightening, an ambitious mayor has ensured his lasting glory by springing for the cost of Carnaval entertainment. Most of the maracatu are lured here with payments nominal enough to cover gas money, a patronage of pittances for their yearly exorcism. With membership and regalia often passed down from parent to child, being a maracatu,is a serious matter. The title embroidered on the first troupe's velveteen standard reads Maracatu Leao Teimoso (The Stubborn Lion). Though there has never been any such animal in Brazil, every troupe is named after some sort of courageous, royal, or wise king of the jungle. Accompanied by young girls in party dresses with high bodices, twenty or so

men come sprinting up the hill in fastrushing, ever-widening circles. Their movements are purposely jerky, threatening and unpredictable. The final phalanx is called caboclos da lanca because they wield and thrust lances festooned with bright streamers..The strips of rags which hang from these poles hardly disguise their seven-foot length and sharpened ends. Staged by men of mixed African and Indian blood, these charges make festive the rage pent up by centuries,of double subjugation. But it's the getup of the maracatu which gives me an otherworldly fright. Each fellow wears a cone-shaped wig that ‘. adds at least a two-foot extension to his head. These hairpieces may once have ' been made of rope and fabric, but are now Medean masses of dazzling red and orange see-through cellophane strips. Such punk coifs clash with almost any article of clothing, but especially with the dancers' sequined getups. They each wear armless capes, every inch filled with the shiniest, loudest possible array of embroidery. Underneath these intergalactic ponchos, the maracatu have strapped on their backs rigid wooden boards mounted with a series of eowbells. These bells shake every time the men stomp or shift weight. An& each dancer can carry up to forty-five; pounds of trappings, most made of velvet1 and other unbearably unbreathable mate-t rials. Just to keep things consistently odd,, the men sport painted sneakers and stripe& soccer socks pulled up over their pants to their knees. For some reason, many hold a fresh white carnation in their teeth. Every troupe is cut out of the same hallucinatory mold, with the same plastic locks and striped socks. The performance is as ritualized as it is nonsensical. One troupe elder mounts the overcrowded platform to seize the single rasping microphbne. He works his way through the monotonal cadences of an epic poem -pausing at the end of each drawn-out quatrain. In a style related to the tradition of repentistas (spontaneous improvisers) who make up ribald ditties for tips, these Brazilian rappers summarize the events of the past year. Topics range from the size of the local harvest to the administration of President Collor. "He has a face without shame," observes one rhyming shaman about Brazil's head witch doctor. "Brazil will always have peace because Christ is Brazilian." However hyperbolic, each bulletin or homily is echoed with an "Amen" of bell rattling. As soon as one maracatu chieftain has finished, another oral historian climbs the podium. Each wave of dancers grows more frantic in their wild circling, more resplendent in their plastic plumage-. Annual exorcism accomplished, they sprint for the pickups parked in a line opposite the village graveyard. Waiting in the truck beds to be shuttled across barren hills, the dancers never crack a smile. These cosmic field hands recover from another day's tillage by chugging on cigarettes. Aviator-style sunglasses — a recent innovation -- hide exhaustion and, so it's said, a

trancelike state verging on hypnosis. I glimpse no signs of psychic release, none of the usual Carnaval letting down of hair. Their cone wigs rest upside down on hooks set along the panels of the truck, looking like wasps' nests gone psychedelic. Are these mostly scrawny and sun-ravaged cane cutters supposed to be more befuddled exiles from the Amazonian Eden, Borneo bushmen, one-man bands? Like New York City mental outpatients wandering the IRT in highly evolved delusional trappings? Or are they simply figments of a collective Brazilian unconscious that teeters between high tech and Stone Age? Such a melange of archetypes is enough to make a Jungian dyspeptic. Perhaps the greatest mystery is that there is no mystery at all to Brazil's indiscriminate embrace of influences. I leave Tracunhaem feeling that I've skirted the literal and metaphoric edge of Brazil's infinite frontier. This is a landscape where nothing ever happens yet everything seems to happen. Here, in its crudest form, I've come face to face with the wonder of Brazilian Carnaval — which is irrationality institutionalized down to the tiniest detail. If these villagers ever came through Lower Manhattan, they'd be hailed as an experimental company of performance artists. The maracatu dance goes beyond theory, poses, pretensions to meaning. In Brazil, genius prefers to go by the credit line "Anonymous." Pulling myself away in order to catch the evening's last bus, I'm still clutching the damp clay dove made for me, its wings bent. I share the darkened slope out of town with a last set of cosmic tribesmen stooped under the burden of their disguise, their progress easily traced by the washboard bells. "Shall death not come upon me," goes a maracatu cry. "So that I may dance here again!" All the way to Recife, I carry the sound of this human herd's clanging. MIDNIGHT MAN I arrive in Olinda disguised as the etcm nal stranger, weighed down with luggage and misconceptions. After crossing the causeway that connects modern Recife to this fabled speck of old Brazil, my taxi is blocked by a bloco, some thousand or more celebrants who make periodic passes through town in matching T-shirts that read Unidos Fudidos (The United FuckUps). Though it's only ten in the morning, partying has seized the steep inclines of this seaside promontory, lined the gutters with beer cups and strewn fruit peels, dressed up the churches in strung confetti trim. Walking the rest of the way toward my reserved inn, I'm transformed into another character in Olinda' s constantly improvised theater of the street. No setting could be better than the stage-set facades of a town christened on its 1537 founding with the Portuguese words for "how lovely!" Olinda's Carnaval has nothing in common with Salvador's miles of matching pompoms or Rio's topless, mechanized writhings. This is a center for craftsmen and bohemians, not exactly

Brazil's Greenwich Village, more like its Santa Fe. As a result, the festivities here are Brazil's artsiest and craftiest, the most freewheeling and loyal to the Carnaval's roots in childhood innocence. Painted mannequins are stationed on balconies to look as though they're royalty reviewing the passing rabble. Papier-mache masks of sun gods gleam in rows atop the red-tile rooftops. Numerous expressionist murals have been painted with V peace signs, Egyptian ankhs, and other leftover symbols of the sixties counterculture. The costumes are equally homemade and far more individualized than those of Rio's samba armies. Packed with college kids from around the country, Olinda more closely resembles an American Halloween, minus the K-Mart Frankenstein masks. I fall in with a frivolous mob surging behind their own marching band and Olinda's renowned variant of whimsy, the boneca. This is a larger-than-life doll bobbing wildly, arms swaying, on a wooden pole held above the crowd. From afar, these fifteen-foot caricatures in cloth are the Carnaval's most individualized human forms. The lead character in Olinda's annual puppet show is the boneca dubbed the "Man of Midnight," a mustachioed Lothario in top hat and tux modeled after a turn-of-the-century philanderer who accomplished all his extramarital activities after dark. In time, he was given a permanent mate boneca, the rosy-cheeked, frowsy-haired hausfrau called the "Woman of the Morning." Some Carnavals later, they begat an offspring of dubious legitimacy, the "Child of the Afternoon." But the first boneca I spot is an obvious Joe Tourist, red-haired and freckled in polkadot shirt and mountaineering shorts, with a cardboard Instamatic camera yoked around his neck. If I don't get to my hotel in haste, somebody will make a mythic marionette out of me. As its name suggests, the Pousada das Quatro Contas is a restored eighteenthcentury mansion that looks out over the junction of main streets that forms the four most crowded corners of the old town. Brazilian tour groups reserve space here months in advance for the privilege of being in the unquiet eye of the human hurricane. They pay plenty for their fiveday, four-sleepless-night package, commemorative T-shirt included. Leaving me a room in a modern basement addition, with windows at street level. Unlike my first taste of Carnaval in Bahia, there's no canned music from a loudspeaker to stimulate my insomnia. Olinda's all-nighter offers tantalizing stretches of quiet before the signature refrain of a frevo favorite slides from the trombone section and a merry roar signals that the streets have yet to be abandoned. Keep moving, keep dancing, keep drinking. He who flags and falters is crushed. Again, the lesson that's driven home on all sides is that Carnaval functions as far more than some crude social safety valve. That's just a pat formula invoked by outsiders to keep all this madness in its non-threatening place. It's not

BRAZZIL - FEBRUARY 1997

as though everybody here feels that they re really supposed to be tackling some ot er task, which, according to some scale sf values, might be deemed more "imp rtant." Wine, women, and song — in Olinda's case, cachaca, frevo, and the handiest bisexual —are not a formula by which to cope with life. They are life. It's the rest that's just coping. Some celebrants play in teams, staging elaborate roving skits, like the satirical crew with a cardboard video camera labeled TV Bobo — Portuguese for "st pid," their comment on the actual T Globo — led by an inanely slick report r who sticks out a phallic microphone tt anybody who dares to be interviewed. Attentive nurses, boys in drag, of course, carry the corpse of the Brazilian economy on a stretcher. A thermometer rests uselessly in the straw mouth of the deceased. A chart, plunging ever downward, lis s President Collor's Plan One and Plan T o as the causes of death. Circus clown., wearing suspenders and red noses rou d as bicycle horns, move in tag teams. Gy sies, their heads shrouded like babushk s despite the heat, tell the fortunes of tho e willing to slow their dancing. The lc. 1 mythology also features Scheherezad s and sheiks, all veiled and most lugging .o 1 cans that drip blood. Approximations i rubber and foam turn men into struttin penises, condoms, and cottony tampon The Man of Midnight himself comes t life in the form of an elderly black gentl man who saunters amid the mayhem frayed tuxedo, top hat, and white glove For over forty years, he has been the sel appointed "Lord of Olinda," greeting hi subjects with overblown, mock protoco One of his lordly sons turns out to be m hotel's bellboy. The writing on every seventeenth-cen tury wall tells me that this town has a uncrowned king. "Alceu, we love! Alce you are eternal!" In any other country, on would presume that such a cult of person ality is inspired—or orchestrated—b some local tyrant. In this case, Olinda i. offering tribute to its resident main man o pop music. Alceu Valenca is Pernambuco' homegrown Mick Jagger, who has fuse the pose of the modern rock rebel with deep respect for the folk traditions of hi native region. On albums and in concert he mixes backcountry inflections with fre netic, heavy metal. One bit of Olinda' adulatory graffiti sums up his sound "Alceu — born de frevo, born de rock, born demais!" Good atfrevo, good at rock, better than ever! I catch up with Alceu across town at Boa Viagem, where Brahma and Antarctica, sudsy competitors of the Brazilian beer biz, sponsor simultaneous free shows in the sands. Bare-chested, his shoulderlength hair flowing from under a stovepipe hat, Alceu Valenca skips and struts and dominates the stage like no other Brazilian performer. When he dashes offstage, the loyal crowd holds its breath to see how their local boy might reappear. The stovepipe becomes an Uncle Sam disguise, painted with stars and stripes, be-

comes the bowler hat of Charlie Chaplin, becomes a dunce cap, a backcountry witch doctor's headdress. The presentation is as avant-garde as the lyrics are accessible. In "Morena Tropicana," he extols the virtues of Northeastern ladies, comparing each body part to a tropical fruit. And Alceu's adolescent swagger is contrasted with several volunteer Shirley Temples, tiny tots dressed in pink birthday dresses and white gloves, punctuating their dance by spinning matching pink umbrellas. A few months back, I would not have known what to make of this anomalous admixture of hokeyness and hard rock, this uniquely Brazilian mongrel. "My music is like the Holy Trinity," are Valenca's first words of explanation, appropriate since his strong, plaintive features happened to be framed with parted, Jesus-length brown locks. "If I want to speak moderately, I'm pop. When I'm violent and angry, I'm rock. And when I'm feeling like a clown, I'm frevo." In a dressing room packed with guitar cases, band members and their girlfriends, Alceu radiates a Messianic charisma. "You want to know where I come from? I am the grandson of Luiz Gonzaga and the son ofJackson do Pandeiro!" These are the two great popular minstrels of the Northeast's backlands, the great innovators of the country rhythms called forr6 and bailio. "And if you listen, I can prove to you that Luiz Gonzaga is exactly the same as Elvis Presley!' Alceu began a guttural mumbling: "You ain't nothing but a hound dog' in Portuguese. "And Jackson do Pandeiro is just like Little Richard!" The other musicians shoot me looks that suggest I shouldn't take seriously anything out of Alceu's ever-moving mouth. He illustrates by banging various beats on the wall. One sounds like galloping horses, one like a metronome on speed. "That's thefrevo, which came from the military bands and our Portuguese traditions. You have to know theory because frevo is very baroque. It's our Mozart." But Alceu's exposition of Northeastern roots has just begun. "The music from the coast has always been more negra, from Africa, but that's somewhat of a false distinction. At sao Bento da Una, a hundred miles inland where I was born, the culture we inherited was already half Moor. The Portuguese were already mixed up, you might say. Just look at this nose of mine!" It is rather hooked, a good compliment to wide, imploring eyes, a cleft chin beginning to sag. But I don't get what he's driving at until I recall that this area of Brazil is said to have been populated with Cristaos Novos. These were Portuguese Jews forced to make a quick conversion when the king of Portugal was made to comply with a Spanish request for their expulsion. So intermingled was Jewish blood among the Portuguese, an old joke goes, that when the king signed the expulsion decree, his first minister asked, "Sire, which one of us leaves first, you or me?" Leaving Alceu Valenca to claim five hundred years later, "Everything works on

guilt. When my old aunt went to have her yearly exam, the doctor asked her if she was urinating well. And she answered, 'Better than I deserve!' We are all lost Jews in the Northeast!" Alceu leaves me in the hands ofNilson Barbosa, his producer and chief aide-decamp. This gaunt and prematurely balding figure, a sort of Abe Lincoln with a suntan, turns out to be an honest-to-goodness Jew. He looks far too preoccupied with weighty matters to manage a musical mirth machine. But he beckons me to tag along for the after-show party in a beachfront penthouse. Finally, I am gaining entree to a genuine Brazilian Carnaval bash! This one consists of only five .or so couples, give or take a few precocious children, sitting cross-legged on a living room rug and passing the inhaler of lanca perfume — the etherlike drug associated with Carnaval revels for more than a century. In the spirit of thorough research into forms of abandon, I take a few lengthy sniffs. At once, I feel myself cast into a throbbing, echoing well. Sound, sight, legs, and heart waffle. It isn't all that scintillating, this rapid flirtation with total vascular engorgement, eyeballs and eardrums and arteries about to burst. The drug does make more persuasive the call of music. But what do I get for an authentic sound track? Nilson is infatuated, obsessed, with Paul Simon's Brazilian album and keeps placing the needle back on the first cut to savor the way American recording perfection captures the full force of Olodum' s drumming. He plays the same two-minute riff about thirty times, pausing to take another drag from the inhaler then reset the needle, over and over until everyone howls for relief. When I follow Alceu's manager out to the balcony for a breath of sea air, out comes a flood of intoxicated confessions about why he had given up his first passion, filmmaking. "Not a decent feature has been produced in over three years. Imagine that in a country of this size! There's no money for anything now." I find this hard to believe, given the new construction going up along Recife's namesake reef for as far as my stoned eyes can scan. "Oh, but you must remember, this isn't Brazil right here! You know what they say? That we Brazilians live like crabs, always scratching at the sand. You must go to the interior.- The record producer shouts at the merrymakers below. -You must know the hunger! The misery!" But this is Brazil, where social conscience need not interfere with a good party. I think of a story told by a Brazilian friend about arriving at 2 'A.M. in the provincial town of Curitiba during the height of the ditadura, searching for a meeting of the banned, clandestine Communist party only to be directed to the wildest, noisiest bash in town. Now Nilson leads the way to a private swimming pool. By the time everyone changes into spandex G-strings, the sun is coming up. Dawn at the tropics is never gentle enough for eyes and hearts that don't .want to relinquish

the relief of the madrugada, a comforting middle ground between night and day which so many Brazilian songs extol. From the water, I watch Nilson slump lower and lower into apiece of lawn furniture. Barely leaning over, with the aplomb of a veteran, he vomits onto the tiles. By thin Wednesday, all Brazil is sleeping it off. The recuperation begins — and so does the planning for next Carnaval. Staggering out in the late afternoon, I find that Olinda' s revelers have retreated en masse. For the first time, the streets' steep, cobbled flumes lay at my disposal. I finally get an unobstructed view of the many churches flanked with royal palms, the wild murals depicting the idealized Olinda of bronzed peaceniks and dancing clowns. "Paz, Liberdade e Socialismo!" reads a banner painted over the door of a bar. I can stand back far enough to discern that the shopping mall occupied by sandal shops was once the old slave barracks, still outfitted with an auction block for humans. For all its artsy airs, I now see that Olinda is a poor town. One single, uninspired bakery and juice bar, buns and rotting fruit supervised by insect swarms, serves the whole overcrowded hillside. Yesterday's inescapable chaos has been quickly swept up and reduced to heaps of colorful streamers, shed shards of costume brimming with color, the piles are offerings left at a shrine. In this town, the trash is flamboyant, Orientalized. In Brazil, even the garbage is grandiose. I know exactly which house to head for — I have seen it pointed out by fans angered over Alceu Valenca's recent endorsement of the school chum running as the ruling party's gubernatorial candidate. "You fucked up! You fucked up!" went the chants of the blocos as they passed Alceu's front door. But that door remains unlocked, open to criticism. "0 Americano!" a pretty mulata announces with singsong glee. The carved doors open into a Soho artist's dream loft. All the beams and .brick walls of this seventeenth-century , shell have been exposed, the three floors connected with metal firehouse stairs. A few antique dressers barely disturb the grandiose emptiness. Potted plants and Indian hammocks lend a tropical feel. But there still isn't room enough to contain Alceu. He's been expecting me, though I would never know it from his standard aging rock-star attire of torn blue jeans and nothing else. Valenca goes barechested, no matter who drifts in and out. Despite the several dramatic streaks of white in his sixties-style hair, he remains eternally cocky, exuding both decadent decay and a vigor beyond his years. "You know, I wasn't always a musician,' he launches in without invitation. "I wanted to be a journalist, I wrote poetry. I studied briefly at Harvard. A great time. I knew all the Black Panthers." Between calls on a portable phone and bites of a pasta dinner, Alceu quizzes me on American politics. "The trouble with America is that it is run by lawyers. It's much simpler to be ruled by generals! I graduated in law. But my

career consisted of trying a single case. Soon enough, Brazil lost a mediocre lawyer and gained an ironic rebel." The singer completes his•biography with a tour of hisbrick walls' exhibitionist exhibit. Along with a collection of Pernambucan masks and the horse-head getups he uses as stage props, there are numerous donated portraits of the star, most of the artwork for his album covers, some framed publicity photos. This is one man who doesn't need a bathroom mirror because he can see himself everywhere he looks. This apartment could be called the Museu Alceu Valenca. Here, the art and the docent are one. We're being dogged all the while by the enthralled black girl, a well-endowed teenage runaway who cleans houses in Olinda. "All she talks about is marrying an American and now she won't say a word. When she heard you were coming, she ran and took off her bra!" Alceu teases her so mercilessly that she retreats into the kitchen. Alceu's wife, most recent in a series, is just as wide-eyed but oozes the self-possession of wealth. In a country where they could choose from an unrivaled bevy of beauties, the musicians I've seen have all opted for rather stolid helpmates. "Alceu told me the first time we met that he would marry me and I laughed in his face," his wife recounts. She is the only one in the house who isn't entranced by Alceu's energy. At one point, he interrupts his lecture to bend over and kiss her, declaring with a wry smile, "I'm her puppet." That must be a relief since he so easily pulls the strings with everyone else. This includes a coterie of Olinda's disgruntled artists and amateur historians, plus assorted refugees from the Carnaval madness. "It used to last three days, then four, now five," Alceu tells me. "So we're working our way to a Carnaval all year round!" One fan has walked all the way from Boa ViagenQo get an autograph. Alceu invites one arfaall to watch a videotape — of himself, of course —showing his recent performance at Rock in Rio. One of the few native musicians to perform this year, he is wildly popular with an ocean of teenyboppers filling Maracank the world's biggest stadium. I get the reference now when the TV cameras zoom in on one fan carrying a sign that reads "Olinda," then another dancing orgiastically a la Woodstock while holding a miniature bobbing boneca. Alceu's voice suggests an angelic fragility unapparent in the flesh. "I'm the best because I'm a musician and critic all in one!" Alceu concludes, patting his bare stomach, always appearing to feel, to paraphrase his guilty aunt, better than he deserves. -Only I know how many Brazils there are! I am on the road constantly, a hundred and twenty cities over the last year. I've seen the logging camps of Para, the red earth of Rio Grande do Sul, the far reaches of Rondonia!" An excerpt from

Why Is This Country Dancing? By John Krich, published by Simon & Schuster, 1993, 320 pp.

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