I am still
here in Lima, Perú where, for the first few weeks, my volunteer opportunities
were up in the air and full of possibility. Suddenly there was a flurry of
activity; for the past two weeks, I’ve had a schedule that runs from about 7:30
AM till 9:30 PM, Monday through Friday, and I also volunteer on Saturdays. I am
having a wild time, and it’s time to finish writing about my visit to Porto
Velho, Brasil! I apologize for the ‘book.’
My friend
in Porto Velho, L, is another person I had met through Livemocha. She has a
calm, strong, sweet and sparkling energy, as well as bright eyes and a
fantastic smile. She is smart and funny, warm and generous. We initially skyped
on a weekly basis, but that dropped off when L started traveling for various
family events. Nevertheless, we stayed in touch by email and continued getting
to know each other. L invited me to visit her and her family in Brazil, and I
was eager to do so.
Although I
had confirmed my arrival and departure times with L, I had not communicated
clearly after pinning down my flights to Porto Velho. L learned that she would
be out of town on the night of my arrival (after midnight), so she emailed me
that her parents would pick me up at the airport. Her parents and I had met
each other briefly by Skype on one occasion many months earlier, and I sent a
photo so they would recognize me. It turned out that they never saw the photo;
nevertheless, they quickly picked me out from the crowd (my gringa appearance?
my backpack?) and greeted me very warmly. In spite of all the progress I had
made with my Portuguese under R’s tutelage, I was exhausted and had trouble
expressing myself. Nevertheless, we conversed in the car on the way to their
home and, when we arrived, we all talked for a good while at a huge wooden
table in the veranda area outside the house. When I was taken to my room, it
turned out to be a lovely, simple space with its own bathroom – the height of
luxury!
L lives
with her parents (Sr. G and Sra. L), as well as her husband (A) and their son
(J, age 5). Also living in the home are L’s sisters, (N and Lv), her brother
(F), and N’s daughter (Ln, age 7). N and her husband (T) are in the process of
buying a small apartment (‘Meg, If you stretch your arms out, you touch the
walls on both sides’), and her husband lives separately for the time being but
visits often. A listing of family members does nothing to describe the energy
in this home. L had ‘warned’ me that there was always a lot going on, and I had
told her I would feel very at home with that. We were both right. The two
children are delightful: active, funny, playful, creative and curious. Ln in
particular was incredibly articulate and engaging. By L’s report, she was
eagerly awaiting my arrival. The first time she met me, having just arrived home
from school, she walked right over, stood directly in front of me, leaned in
and started playing with my hair, interviewed me with interest and told me
about herself; I was completely charmed. A third child arrived toward the end
of my stay (G, age 3, another of the grandchildren), and he is a boy who has
been diagnosed with Autism. He is also very socially engaging and loves to be
cuddled; I imagine this is in response to his whole family’s very loving
engagement with him as well. (As an aside, it seemed that many people I met in
Brasil had a family member with Autism, or knew of someone with a family member
with Autism. I don’t know what this means or reflects, but I noticed it.)
In Brazil,
it seems that many, many people are working hard to improve their lives: at all
ages, they are in school to further their educations, they are training for
specialization, they are applying for better jobs (including those that would
require them to move), and they are starting or upgrading businesses. L’s
family was absolutely representative in this regard. Having dropped out of
medical school to raise her son, L was on the verge of re-entering medical
school – or perhaps going into a dentistry or architecture program. In a
country in which there is an extremely high level of competition for a limited
number of spaces in professional (as well as other) programs, she had achieved
top scores and had a range of options at her fingertips. She then discovered
that she was pregnant and chose to focus on her pregnancy (and eventually the raising)
of her 2nd child. When I asked her, L acknowledged that it was
challenging to put off her education again, but she was also very clear about
her values. L’s husband, a professor of anatomy, was in the process of
interviewing for jobs at better universities. In Brasil, public universities
are superior to private universities, and his goal was to land a job at a
public university. (He has since landed such a job, but is interested in finding
yet a better public university. L has since started studying for further exams
that she’ll take during her 8th month of pregnancy, because she does
not want to lose her options.)
Lidi’s
sister, N, is a psychologist, and was preparing for the exams that would help
determine her placement in the search for a better job. Currently, N is part of
a team that also includes a doctor, nurse, physical therapist, and sometimes
also a speech and language therapist. The team literally goes door to door
assessing the needs of people in the community. They knock on every door, and the professionals talk
to and evaluate the residents in order to determine their needs and make
referrals. Remember that these services are all free. Imagine such a service in the US!
Lidi’s
other sister, Lv, is completing her degree in psychology. The educational
system is different in Brasil, so she will be able to work as a psychologist
without a Master’s or a Doctorate. When we spoke about her studies, she
appeared to be very well versed in many theories as well as in psychological
assessment. She was starting her practicum placements, and will be finished in
about a year. In truth, apart from her lack of hands-on experience, she
appeared to be well prepared. (When I skyped with her recently, she was working
in a placement with the family court system.)
Lv took me
on a tour of her public university, which was simple by US standards. The
library appeared to have older books and journals, a large study area of round
tables with chairs, and a total of about 10 computers for use by all the thousands
(?) of students. There were separate buildings for the various subject areas, a
few bathrooms (single toilet, no toilet paper), and a couple of mini-cafeterias
(more like coffee shop counters) with a limited food selection. The campus was
very open, with lots of covered outdoor connecting walkways. It sits at the
edge of, and includes, a large and lovely jungle-like forest with dirt roads; there
are papaya trees at the edge of the campus.
L’s
brother, F, is working on a degree in computer technology at the same
university. He is not thrilled with his choice, but is interested in having a
job that pays well. F is a Buddhist, and we talked for a while about how he
might be able to maintain a vegetarian diet in a very meat-centered country. I
didn’t have any trouble in this regard.
L’s father,
who is in his 60s, completed his law degree last year and is now in private
practice within the family home. He was one of over 550 (?) authors who wrote
the current Brasilian Constitution, about which I’ll write more later in this
post. Sr. G and Sra. L share very strong moral and socio-political values,
which have been imparted to all of their children. They also set a warm, conversational,
caring, spiritual and laughter-filled tone as the heads of their family. Sra.
L, who works in an administrative office, took the week off to be able to spend
time with me during my visit. As with R in Palmas, I was stunned by the
generosity of her choice. More so, because she didn’t even know me, I was
struck by her interest.
On an
almost daily basis during my time in Porto Velho, I was toured around the city
and the surrounding area by various family members. We visited the Rio Madeira
(Wood River, so named for the tree trunks that are pulled long by its strong
current) and waited a while to see if we could find enough other people to be
interested in a river tour (the boat needed at least 10 for a tour). I started
approaching strangers and inviting them to join us, but to no avail, so we got
permission from a ship captain to just hang out on board for a while to enjoy
the cool breeze. On one occasion at the Rio Madeira, Lv pointed out an Amazon
pink river dolphin – they really are pink!
We also
drove to the area across from a hydroelectric plant that was built on the river
amidst strong protest by local residents, who had previously been able to enjoy
the beauty of the river at this spot, with its large boulders and the spectacular
sunset view. I was told that the local fishing community had been moved to
housing, where they would be given a small stipend for five years but no job
training or support for making the transition to a non-fishing lifestyle. This
reminded me of a different situation I had read about in Brasil: http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2013/apr/03/brazil-dam-activists-war-military
The park near
one part of the Rio Madeira was an endpoint for the steam engines that
previously ran between Porto Velho and Guajará-Mirim, Brasil, across the river
(Rio Mamoré) from Guayaramerín, Bolivia. Sra. L’s father had been the person
who stoked the wood-burning fire on the locomotives. Sra. L wanted me to see
the museum (a warehouse) in this park, but it happened to be closed on the day
we visited. When she discovered that the museum keeper was around, she
explained that I was visiting from the US and convinced him to open the museum
for about 20 minutes! I loved the place, which was full of beautiful, dusty
artifacts such as the huge wooden molds used to cast the various iron parts for
the train. The museum included a section with, e.g., an old cot and coat tree,
which were part of the former hospital in Porto Velho. This hospital had had a
reputation for its experience and success in treating malaria victims, who
arrived from all parts of Brasil to be saved.
At Sra. L’s
suggestion, we took a one-day trip to Bolivia, where she wanted to do some
pre-shopping exploration. Apparently, the prices in Guayaramerin are so low
that many Brasilians pay for and take the long (6-8 hours) bus trip in order to
make purchases there. Virtually all of the Bolivians in that town are bilingual
in order to support their business with Brasilians. Sra. L finds the town
unattractive, but I thought it very charming. We wandered through the extensive
market (streets lined with shops, all of them protected from the sun with large
sheets or blankets hung on the street side of the sidewalk). I was impressed by the shoe repair men who had their tables set up in the street, replete with sewing machines, various hand tools, and pieces of tire for replacing shoe soles. Sra. L and I made a stop at
a cultural center undergoing renovation, and were allowed to visit regardless. We showed enough interest that the woman in charge took us to meet an author
who is researching the social, political and economic aspects of the regional
rubber tree history. José Luís Durán
Mendoza is a Bolivian author-illustrator who spent a great deal of time with us
explaining the history (in Portuguese), showing us written and other artifacts,
and generally inviting us into the inner workings of his process. When I answered
his question about why I was visiting South America, he told me that there was
a great need for help in Bolivia, and we exchanged email addresses. Time will
tell….
Other
highlights of my time in Porto Velho included a walk through a
mosquito-infested sub-tropical area in which I discovered the importance of
constant motion. We all walked in single file, swatting at each other and
waving our arms. The few times I stopped to take photos, I was immediately
besieged by mosquitos, and that was were more than enough for me. The area was
part of a former zoo from which all the animals had been passed along and/or
let loose following some kind of scandal. We were told that we’d be able to
see, e.g., macaques in the trees if we returned early the next day, but we
weren’t able to do so.
The family
was delighted when I tried coarse yucca flour with milk, which I liked. Interesting
but less of a treat was a kind of soup that is made with broth, yucca goo (highly
gelatinous and viscous) and a kind of leaf that literally puts the mouth to
sleep. I liked the broth and did okay with the leaves, but couldn´t handle the
goo. This was probably the oddest food I tried while in Brasil, and it sealed
my reputation for being willing to try most anything.
Without a
doubt, the Brasilian fruits continued to be an ongoing revelation. The range of
flavors and forms is astonishing. The most remarkable – and indescribable – was
the tucumã, which has a very thin layer of yam-orange fruit around a large pit. The
texture is incredibly buttery, and the taste – probably influenced by the color
and texture -- was like a combination of carrot, butter, yam, caramel…. It was
heavenly.
The night before I left Porto Velho, Sra. L asked me
to join her on a quick trip to the mall. While there, I had to sneak in a way
to buy a very simple gift for the family, explaining that it was for someone else, and asking Sra. L's opinion. The gift selection itself was one of
those experiences of buying something that will please someone else, though it
does not particularly please me. I wanted to get something truly wonderful, but
felt that an expensive gift would be excessive and therefore offensive. (There's a whole post that needs to be written by me at some point on the topic of money.) I
decided on a vase, and chose the one that pleased Sra. L (but not me), all the
while feeling cheap and inadequate. I had received so very much from this
family, and had had to sneak in ways of helping out around the home. I was
allowed to pay for the trip to Bolivia only after begging, in tears, for an
opportunity to contribute in this way. I continue to have a hard time accepting
the deep and endless generosity that is extended to me with such ease.
When we returned, the family was in a flutter putting
together an arch of balloons. I already knew from my exchanges with L that this
family likes to throw parties for events such as birthdays, and I was told that
it was G’s birthday. I joined the family knotting balloons together, and
learned (at last!) how those arches are made. The family moved the balloons to
the outdoor dining area, and L’s husband told me that he wanted to share some
youtubes of famous Brasilian comedians. When we joined the family outside, they
all shouted ‘Surprise!’ and I discovered that the party was, in fact, for me.
In addition to the balloons, there was a hand-made good-bye sign on
fabric, Brasilian pizzas (I finally got to try the Brasilian
chocolate-and-cheese pizza), and a local speciality cake. Needless to say, I
burst into tears. Crying, I did my best to thank the family in my still-developing
Portuguese; this was certainly one of the times that I wished I were more
fluent.
Before going to bed that night, I spoke with Sr. G
about his part in the writing of the current (7th) Brasilian Constitution.
The military government that preceded this constitution had been welcomed when
it replaced the government that came before, but had become highly dictatorial.
People were being hauled off, imprisoned and/or killed with some regularity,
and it was forbidden to speak out. People were afraid to express themselves,
but eventually decided it was time to do so. They starting talking to each
other, and gathering in the streets; this continued for years until the people
succeeded – without any violence whatsoever – in arriving at the point of
writing a new constitution. The two-year+
process began with the military government still in power. The participants
were Congressional senators and elected deputies, of which Sr. G was one. He
had run on a shoe-string budget, and it had not been believed that he could
win, but in the end he did so. Anywhere I was with him in Porto Velho, he was
recognized and greeted with warmth and respect.
The group of people rewriting the constitution took
months to determine their process and the time they would take to complete
their task. There were groups at every level: local, regional, state, federal. The
smaller groups worked with each other to develop and present policy to the
larger groups, and so on up the ladder for further review. The entire Brasilian
population was invited to identify issues, and to offer their thoughts and
suggestions, and the entire process was transparent (i.e., ongoing notification
of the public regarding policy and progress). Because smaller states (such as
those of the poorer Brasilian ‘interior’) had fewer deputies, these states banded
together and ended up having considerable power to form policy on behalf of
poor people. The current Brasilian Constitution is highly detailed, because its
authors did not want to write something simple or open enough to be easily
changed. The result is a constitution comprised of basic principles, extensive
articles, and actual laws. Some of the laws were written with termination dates,
whereas others were written as permanent. When the current Constitution was
finished, the country voted on it.
This is the Constitution that made my friend R cry
when he read it, because it is so beautiful. Though there was general agreement
that its reality does not yet live up to the document, Sr. G said that things
are improving. L and her siblings agreed that young people speak openly now
regarding their discontents, having grown up in a different culture regarding free
expression. I was told that, although most people do not know the Constitution
itself, they are aware of and demand their rights. There are offices to which people
can go to request free information from well-informed staff, regarding both
rights and legal process.
I was deeply impressed by the richness and openness of
the process through which the current Brasilian Constitution was developed, and
by the time that was taken. When I left,
Sr. G presented me with a copy – a small book – that he had inscribed for me.
I come from a large family that has its share of tension and animosity, as well as its share of love and joy. One of the deepest gifts of my time with this family was an opportunity to experience a large group of siblings who truly loved and enjoyed each other. They hung out with each other daily, asked for and listened to each other's thoughts with real interest, and laughed easily and often.
Odds and ends:
The movie ‘Ironman’ just isn’t the same dubbed into
Portuguese. The sight of Dengue fever information and warnings on local plastic
shopping bags was a reminder that Toto and I were not in Kansas anymore. There
is an ‘Itsy-Bitsy Spider’ song in Portuguese. N’s daughter, Ln, taught me a
couple of girls’ hand-clapping songs. In Porto Velho, people’s large water
tanks are filled every other day; if people use up their water, there is no
more until the next filling, so some people have reserve tanks. L and her
family have a momma cat who apparently was led to their home – with her kittens
– by a male they had taken in. The kittens were adorable, and I was reminded of
how much I love these small animals. Local handcrafts included beautiful purses made with flip-tops from soda cans. Sra. L and Sr. G have a huge backyard that they planted with all kinds of fruit trees: papaya, jabuticaba, mulberry, several kinds of banana, and others. The name for 'humming bird' in Portuguese is 'kisses-flower.' My fascination with South American mannequins has officially begun. When Lv and I returned late from a tour around town, everyone was concerned because we hadn't called. Laughing, they shared their thought that they would have to explain to the US government how the visiting American had gotten lost or injured while in their care.
with love, meg June 15, 2013
