Porto Velho - The Generosity Continues

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 2^nd 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 8^th 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 (7^th) 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