A while back, I added the ability to subscribe via email to my posts and while I’m not sure how that pans out in terms of my views per month, I rather like the idea. One thing that often happens though is that I will write a post, publish it then proofread it. There’s something about proofreading a final copy that I find more appealing than proofreading a draft so I apologize for any typos or changes which you only get to see if you click on through to my site a few minutes after publishing time. In just a second, I’ll eve be ‘proofing’ this message ; )
Gene at Expat Brazil posted a link to an article where the Argentine President called Americans by the term “americanos” instead of by the more formal term “estadunidenses” (something like “United-Statesian”). Interestingly enough, I was having this conversation on a forum elsewhere just yesterday so I thought I’d chime in ‘officially’ on my own site. Personally, I use both terms when I see fit (ie, depending on who I’m talking to) but I don’t go out of my way to make sure someone knows I’m not of the opinion that I rule the world.
All of Latin America (now there’s another famous discussion, are Brazilians ‘latinos’?) uses both terms although the use of “americano” is way more widely used by all while “estadunidense” is used by two kinds of people. The first kind is the intellectual wishing to be as correct and specific as possible and the second kind is the average person who believes that Americans believe we own the world (while we all know it is the “United-Statesian” government that really wishes to own the world). Let’s stop being silly then, shall we?
The only counter-argument used tries to say that anyone from the Americas is an American. True to a point, but nobody south of the United States really calls themselves “americano” so let’s make that clear (and yes, I’m pretending to know every citizen south of the US). If the intellectual wishes to make the distinction, then he/she must be of the intellect to know that we don’t call ourselves Americans for any other reason than that is just how we are known around the world. The argument is then moot because we certainly won’t start calling ourselves (or being called by others) “United-Statesians” any time soon.
I was watching some video presentations captured at TEDx São Paulo from late last year and in the same way that TED Talks in California isn’t always a riveting show, the Brazilian version has its pluses and minuses. Two of the pluses were talks given by journalist Denis Russo Bergierman (video below) and by actress & comedian Regina Casé (found here w/o subtitles).
As far as Bergierman’s video, due to the fact that it comes subtitled and since it is fairly well-explained, there’s not much to say about it, aside from saying he has a good point. While Brazil does have a lot of problems, they also have a large pool of talented people that can help to solve such problems.
In terms of Casé’s video, she talks about how the term “popular culture” actually excludes popular cultural movements created by marginalized communities. I fully agree with her and will side with the philosopher Socrates in saying the idea of the ‘majority’ knowing what is best for entire population is nothing but a fallacy. The problem I have with Casé though, is that she uses baile funk of Rio and tecnobrega of Pará as prime examples. Having lived both to a certain extent, I would personally not choose to cite those as unjustly under-valued popular movements. Baile funk for one, promotes hypersexuality and violence while tecnobrega must have been created by a pre-teenage girl skilled in the use of a voice synthesizer who steals her lyrics from the likes of the Backstreet Boys.
Give me baile funk without the dirtiness or tecnobrega with meaningful lyrics (and a human voice) and I would actually support Regina Casé’s examples as undeservingly under-valued.
“Eight miles of walls are being constructed around hundreds of Rio de Janeiros sprawling slums. Are they really eco-barriers, protecting the rainforest, or a disguise for the citys social problems?
Here in Brazil, a wall does not signify separation or division, a wall does not cause problems for the community, says the Police Captain. Yet the residents of the slums, known as favelas, tell a different story. Most only agreed to the wall after the government offered them better services and a hospital.
All believe that the walls are intended to contain the slums in time for Rio to host the 2014 World Cup and the 2016 Olympics. Even the police officers confirm their value as an instrument of control: The Wall helps, really helps us, they say, nervously patrolling the two entrances and exits to the Dona Marta slum.
Rios 750 slums have become notorious for drug trafficking, police killings and a Brazilian reality little seen by the tourists on the beaches. Yet the residents believe that barriers like this will only deepen centuries of social divide. Across Rio, the biggest favela district of Mare, is still in the grip of a deadly gang war. The truth is that this wall is going only to cause more war, says Damian, a third commando of a dangerous drugs gang, more police will die, traffickers will die and the killing will continue.” – Journeyman Pictures
Via Expat Brazil, I found this video interview (duration: 53 minutes) on Charlie Rose with Eike Batista, the richest man in Brazil.
Mr. Bautista “is a Brazilian entrepreneur. He has founded several different companies, with a concentration in the mining field. Eike Batista is considered to be a wild business man, sometimes classified as “adventurous”. Recently, he became the wealthiest person in Brazil, with an estimated fortune of US$7.5 billion.”
He was born in Governador Valadares, in Minas which has the nickname ‘Vale Dolares’ (Worth Dollars), but that’s just a coincidence.
The following is from the Brazilian magazine Bravo (in PT), which I translated, about fan of Caetano Veloso who not only got to meet him, but to get his song recorded by him.
I was 7 when I first saw and heard Caetano Veloso sing Alegria, Alegria with the Beat Boys at the Record Festival, in 1967. At home, we were all hypnotized by Chico Buarque singing Roda Viva. Chico and the song were beautiful. But I, a fan of Roberto Carlos, felt the Jovem Guarda vibe in the marcha-rock of Caetano, which seemed restrained and transgressive. Happiness and laziness – that yeah-yeah-yeah group and and a timidly daring singer with eyes full of color. It was the start.
From then til now, I became a musician of popular music and Caetano, a reference for my generation. In 1977, one decade after Alegria, Alegria, I was studying at the Colégio Equipe, in São Paulo, where the current-day host Serginho Goisman used to organize shows. I was his assistant and ticket-seller. On account of this little job, I got to fetch Cartola and Clementina de Jesus from the bus station, I handed over the payment to Luiz Gonzaga for his appearance and I bought a cognac at the bakery so Gilberto Gil could warm up his voice. Later, it was Caetano’s turn to go to the Equipe. He opened the show with Festa Imodesta, a samba that he composed and that Chico recorded on his album Sinal Fechado. At that time, I also started to compose and I immodestly imagined that Caetano one day would sing one of my songs. But, as time went by, I ended up redirecting my insane desire.
In 2008, when Caetano and the anthropologist Hermano Vianna launched the blog Obra em Progresso, I started to frequent their virtual hang-out and to comment on the posts. Caetano would write with an incredible appetite. Everything was fair game: Noel Rosa, Fidel Castro, sociolinguistics. A group of about 20 people, more sedulous, created an incendiary intimacy among themselves and Caetano would very informally comment on our messages. It was then that a collective was born which came to be called “the blog group”.
One year later, the group went to the premier of zii e zie, Caetano’s most recent show, in Rio de Janeiro. In the dressing room, we had our first face-to-face with the singer, who greeted us one by one and guessed our names. Immediate interaction and affection. It was one rather emotional thing which detonated the taboo that the Internet promotes isolation and the repression of firsthand contact.
In Salvador, there was another meeting. After the Concha Acústica concert at the Castro Alves Theater, we went to Caetano’s house and ended the night in a pizzeria. But in Bahia, nothing really ends with pizza. On the following day, the group got together for a caruru (typical Bahian dish) at Vellame’s house, one of the members of the “blog group”. I was playing with Emerson, another component of the gang when Caetano showed up and said: “Continue”. I started playing the samba song Rugas by Nelson Cavaquinho. I had said on the blog that I dreamed of hearing this song in Caetano’s voice. A comment that, at the time, got him to respond with: “Salem, you read my thoughts. The song I most sing at home is Nelson’s song Rugas. So, together, we sang Rugas, which has a genius line “a happy person knows how to suffer”.
During this meeting, some of the people already knew the song that I had composed about our internet-related experiences: Rugas na Pele do Samba. Caetano, didn’t. It was a surprise to be delivered to him a little later, recorded. But, with the atmosphere loaded with emotions, they asked me to sing it. And I sung it, a little clumsily, but I think it went well. When the samba was over, I saw that Caetano was moved. After that, we sang another 15 to 20 songs. We closed out the night trying to find a planet in the sky which only Moreno, Caetano’s son, managed to see.
When zii e zie came to São Paulo, I thought about not going. I feared diluting the enchantment of the Rio and Salvador meetings. But I received an invite and I went on a Friday with my wife, Fernanda. It was a dry show, almost a recital. There was silence during the songs and then long applauses. In the dressing room, some friends invited Caetano to go out and he declined saying that he was tired. But a little bit later, already at the door, he surprised me: “What about now? Where are we going?” I asked if he wanted to come to my house. “I prefer that we meet in the hotel.” That way, we could talk closer to where he would be able to get some rest later. We went, we ate and spoke of music and children without even looking at the clock. At four in the morning, Caetano surprised me again saying that he wanted to learn my song. I got up quickly and took out the guitar from the case. “How nice! Play it”, he asked. I sang. An initial attentive audition. “Write the lyrics on paper,” he asked again. Afterwards, he sang the song with me on the guitar and, in sequence, he sang it and played alone. Everything in place. Even the errors, which were few, sounded perfect. I strummed the last chord. To my luck, it wasn’t a dream. “Now you both can rest and I’ll work on the song.” In the elevator, I asked Fernanda to pinch me. I imagined the possibility of Caetano singing my song in his show on Saturday, but my low tolerance to frustration made me erase that fantasy. Conceit and expectation are the worst kind of drugs.
I was invited to the Saturday show and met up with the “blog group,” but I didn’t say anything about the night before. I maintained myself with my desire and my antidotes against disappointment. In the middle of the show, the roadie positioned a stand with some lyrics on it. I felt Fernanda’s eyes on me. Suspense. I pretended I didn’t notice and made a face like I was part of the paying public waiting to hear the song O Leãozinho. “Today I want to sing a song that’s very new, by Fernando Salem, to celebrate what happened with us through my blog Obra em Progresso“. Then, Caetano sung Rugas na Pele do Samba and, just after, Rugas, from Nelson, which he dedicated to me.
After the show, a long hug. I couldn’t contain myself: “Would you be interested in recording that with me on my new CD?.” The answer: “Yes, of course!” A few days later, Caetano was in my studio registering Rugas na Pele do Samba at my side. To hear it there and on the stage was for me, a truly immodest celebration*.
* – The last line of the story (a truly immodest celebration – uma verdadeira festa imodesta) is a bit of a play on words, as the author was referring to Caetano’s song Festa Imodesta, which is mentioned earlier in the article.
The TimesOnline has an article on how the Portuguese economy is not at its best, to say the least and how Brazil might be the answer. Somehow I doubt that. At this point in Brazil’s progression, what Brazil sows, Brazil should reap.
Outside the Brasilia sandwich bar in a poor part of Lisbon one afternoon last week a group of men leaned against the wall, chatting and smoking cigarettes. One of them whistled at the black prostitute touting for business over the road. A beggar in a threadbare coat swigged from a bottle.
Welcome to sunny Portugal.
Known for its seaside resorts and soulful fado music, the unassuming country on the western frontier of Europe is just as much in the mire as Greece as it struggles with soaring debt and rising unemployment, which have pushed a naturally melancholic people to the brink of despair.
Any mention of the word “work” provokes sniggers outside the sandwich bar. “There’s no jobs round here,” says Dario, 30, a bricklayer. “I’d go to Brazil if I could afford the air fare.” – Times Online (for the rest, see link above)
Valentine’s Day (February 14th) in the U.S. is tomorrow, but aside from it being pointless (as if someone can’t treat their partner well for the rest of the year), it is celebrating a saint that no one knows anything about. On top of that, there are false expectations of chocolate, dinner and roses that every man feels they have to cave in to, all of which have been completely invented by the bosses of certain businesses in our consumerist society.
Let’s first look at the so-called Saint Valentine. If we go back to the first mention of him (or rather, them since there were many St. Valentines) in the year 496, we see that pretty much nothing was known about this person, aside from the belief that he was martyred. At this point, he apparently went from being known as Priest Valentio to St. Valentine. If we skip ahead all the way to the fourteenth century, we see that the romantic notions associated with St. Valentine were merely invented by the likes of Geoffrey Chaucer (in the “Parialment of Foules”) and his friends. In the year 1493, it is here we see the very first physical representation of him in the form of a woodcut portrait, alongside a text stating he was a priest imprisoned for illegally marrying off Christian couples.
Lupercalia
As for the significance of the date, there has long been something called the Feast of St. Valentine which is based on a Pagan ritual called Lupercalia, celebrating fertility and named after the wolf, or lupus. Plutarch, a Greek historian of the time, described Lupercalia as such,
“Lupercalia, of which many write that it was anciently celebrated by shepherds, and has also some connection with the Arcadian Lycaea. At this time many of the noble youths and of the magistrates run up and down through the city naked, for sport and laughter striking those they meet with shaggy thongs (a piece of leather used as a whip). And many women of rank also purposely get in their way, and like children at school present their hands to be struck, believing that the pregnant will thus be helped in delivery, and the barren to pregnancy.”
The day for celebration according to the Pagan ritual was February 15th and the change to February 14th (as well as changing the one being worshipped from the wolf to St. Valentine), was mandated by the then-Pope and is believed to be the Christian Church’s effort to Christianize the celebration. All anyone knows of Saint Valentine though is basically that he was apparently a saint…oh, and he was supposedly buried on February 14th. Nothing like romance and being buried, eh?
Dia dos Namorados
Moving on to the Brazilian tradition called Dia dos Namorados (Day of the Couples/Lovers, loosely translated), which is celebrated on June 12th, the eve of Saint Antonio’s Day. Saint Antonio was a Portuguese saint who was believed to have married couples although originally, he was the patron saint of pregnant women and seekers of lost articles.
In any event, the Brazilian tradition is just as false as the American one and most likely, actually inspired by the commercial success of it. In 1949, the publicitist João Dória arrived in Brazil from being abroad and met with influential businessmen in São Paulo to discuss bringing the idea to the Brazilian market. Since June was a low-selling month, they all decided that the eve of Saint Antonio’s Day would fit quite well.
On a side note, on many cards and advertisments for the Dia dos Namorados, a phrase from a famous sonnet by Vinicius De Morães has been falsely used. The sonnet is called the Soneto da Felicidade (Sonnet of Happiness) and the phrase pertains to the very last line which says “que seja infinito enquanto dure” (may it be infinite while it lasts). The phrase used in the advertisments and the one most people will quote uses the word ‘eternal’ instead of ‘infinite’. Some say they’re basically the same thing but to me, infinite conjures up ideas of space, size and extent while eternal infers extent only.
Perhaps though, I shouldn’t be complaining. It’s about time someone (me) invents a new commercial holiday based on….what do you say? A children’s nursery rhyme? A comic-strip? A silly superstition? I’m currently accepting suggestions and we can even go 50/50 on it.
Leci Brandão da Silva is a Brazilian singer and composer and one of the most important interpreters of MPB and samba. She is the daughter of Pérola Negra, one of the artists who pioneered in making the Brazilian pagode music popular throughout the land.
While these aren’t my own personal observations, over on the Union College (of New York) website, there’s a fairly large section on exchange student essays which reflect on their time studying and living in Brazil. Most of the essays are sectioned off into regions of Brazil while others are more abstract and cover more ground, as it were. I have yet to check it out thoroughly but it very well may be of interest to some of my readers.
