I`m now in Lima, Peru, after nearly three weeks of
volunteering at the Foundation Casa Grande (FCG) in Nova Olinda, Brazil. I
arrived two days ago after about a day of travel, and was met at the airport by
my friends. Once outside the airport building, we were immediately surrounded
by taxi drivers offering a series of competitive bids for our fare, and I
learned a lot just watching my friends negotiate the situation (by walking away
until an acceptably lower fare was offered).
I finally have an opportunity to write about my time
in Palmas with R, M, their two daughters (I, age 7, and baby M, 5 months), and
their cat, V. I’ve known R for about 15 months now. He was and is my first
Brazilian-in-Brazil friend.
You may remember E and P of Rio de Janeiro, who had
recommended that I “experience” FCG. In preparation for an eventual visit there
(until two days ago, “here”), I started learning Brazilian Portuguese. I was
very fortunate to have a bilingual, bicultural Brazilian friend in Santa Cruz
who was willing to get me started (thank you, B!). Meanwhile, other friends had
recommended an on-line program (“Livemocha.com”) used by their son to further and
deepen his mastery of Japanese (thank you S and B!). After getting some Portuguese
basics from B, I decided it was time to check out Livemocha.
Livemocha provides useful, free on-line lessons in a
wide range of languages. Each time one submits a written or audiotaped
exercise, it is sent to the community of native speakers of that language, who
can choose to correct the exercise. At the same time, someone else’s exercise shows
up for correction in the native language of the person who has just submitted
an exercise. If people like the nature of each other’s corrections, they can formalize
Livemocha “friendships.” These can be used for correction of exercises only,
but can also lead to skyping and/or emailing for further language and culture
exchange.
My friendship with R began in this way, and I remember
how much we struggled and laughed during our first Skype call back in February
of 2012. R and I skyped just about weekly thereafter until I left the US. Since
we first met, we have also exchanged birthday presents, taught and corrected
each other, sent links of interest, and shared our stories, dreams,
disappointments, worries, jokes, laughter and tears. The experience of ongoing,
shared struggle and joy is always powerful; the building of relationships that
bridge language and culture divides is a particular gift. R is an attentive
teacher who is always concerned for the details of my learning experience
(e.g., pronunciation, grammar, culture, vocabulary). He is also a great student
who does lots of extra work on the side.
R works for the Brazilian Federal Police, and is studying
law with the goal of becoming an attorney. R’s wife, M, is a social worker at
the main hospital in Palmas; her area of specialization is work with children
who have cancer. When planning my visit to Brazil, I arranged to be in Palmas
toward the end of M’s six-month maternity leave, during which time R would also
have a couple of days off. I was blown away when R told me that, in spite of the
pressures of his job and studies, he had decided to move his vacation so he
would be free during my entire visit.
R is one of the most tender men I’ve ever met. He
loves spending time with his daughters, and has great joy in sharing their
lives as they grow up; he knows that this time will pass all too soon. R takes
his older daughter to school each day because he loves holding her hand as he
delivers her to the building, remembers how his mother held his hand on the way
to school, and imagines that his daughter will do the same with her children
one day. He cries when moved by something – including, he said, by the beauty
of the Brazilian constitution when he read it. R reads others’ feelings well,
and speaks openly about his own.
M is a smart, stylish yet down-to-earth woman who has
an endless capacity for play with her children. Brazil strongly supports the
reality of breast-feeding and mother-child connection – thus the fairly
standard six-month maternity leave. In M’s case, connecting is what she does
naturally, and I was full of admiration for her ability to spend endless hours
really being with her children. M has
a relaxed and grounded quality about her. She is also a terrific baker.
I is a smart, creative, imaginative and talented girl
with a great capacity for entertaining herself. She seemed a bit leery of me,
or perhaps just disinterested. She loves to make her baby sister laugh, and
she’s good at it. Her baby sister, M, is a sturdy, healthy girl whose face
lights up when she laughs, which she does often. R and his family are all very
beautiful.
Much of my time with R and his family was spent simply
enjoying family time: meals, shopping, running errands, cleaning up, etc. I
practically had to beg to be allowed to help out around the house, as there was
a notion that I needed to rest and should not be bothered with such things. At
R and M’s home, I got my first taste of traditional Brazilian meals. I have to
say that I particularly love the Brazilian beans, as well as M’s wonderful
arugula-and-mango salads!
R made every effort to introduce me to as many
Brazilian fruits as possible, in many forms: fresh, as popsicles (the best I’ve
ever tasted) and in blender drinks (yum!) Knowing that I didn’t like my fruits
sweetened, he made açaì with and without sweetened condensed milk so I could
sample both. This fruit has an extraordinary taste that is difficult to
describe: it is fresh, rich and spicy, like a blend of blueberries, allspice
and chocolate. I could happily eat it all day every day.
In addition to being a way to spend time with the
family, the errands themselves were fascinating cultural outings for me. For
example, there was a trip to a store that mostly sells items in bulk; for those
of you who know Costco, this place made Costco look like a small neighborhood
market. It sold a wide range of items, accompanied by overhead speaker
announcements and a man who walked around hawking particular items on sale. The
store was packed!
The most interesting part was the check-out. Brazil
has a system in which four categories of people have priority in all lines and in
all service situations: pregnant women, women still carrying babies or young
children in their arms, people 65 and older, and people with physical
impairments. (As was explained to me some time later, Brazil still has a notion
that women are frail and need extra attention. Men carrying babies do not get
priority service.) Although we were in the priority line, the store was so
crowded that it took us a full hour to get to the cash register. The store was designed
in such a way that it was difficult to maintain any kind of order in the lines,
which were backed up quite a way into the already congested aisles. Nevertheless,
there was no grousing or even negative attitude during the wait; people simply
waited. Some stools were made available for people who were in the priority
lines, and these were shared.
There was also a trip to a local clinic, where baby M
received a vaccination that was due. This was a simple place: an open area with
chairs under a roof (with no walls), where people could show up and be seen by
a nurse or doctor in one of the rooms. M explained to me that such clinics are
used for routine or preventive care and small health issues, as well as for
getting referrals to specialists or for particular procedures when warranted.
While I waited, I read a large banner about the push
for six months of breast-feeding, followed by another 18 months of both mother’s
milk and formula. The banner explained the many health, relationship and
economic benefits for baby, mother and family. I was struck by the difference
between this approach to breast-feeding and that in the US, where we also know
about the benefits of breast-feeding but seem to view it more as the road to
droopy breasts. As a feminist doctor once said in response to a statement that
breast-feeding will ‘ruin’ a woman’s breasts, ‘Ruin your breasts? What are they
for?’
Apart from such daily-life outings, there were also
special outings. Among these was a tour of I’s school, which is a private
school serving children aged two to 17. I found it simple, clean, organized and
full of light. The school’s director explained to me that the older children
are not allowed to mix with the younger children, that there is a program in
place to address and minimize bullying, and that children with special
cognitive needs are generally served within the general education classrooms. There
is a ballet class for girls and a soccer class for boys, but any child can take
either class. There are some schools with classrooms that specialize in the
care and education of children with cognitive difficulties. M and I talked
about the difficulties of making decisions re: the placement of a child with
particular cognitive and/or developmental needs, and these difficulties appear
to be the same in Brazil as in the US.
M also took me to visit the hospital in which she
works. Although it is a public (i.e., completely free) hospital, it is supplied
with modern equipment and has specialist doctors and departments. On the other
hand, by US standards, it was a low-key place – not necessarily a bad thing. M
took me through a particularly crowded section where the hallways were lined
with people in hospital beds, along with their family members. M explained that
there simply were not enough rooms for everyone who needed attention, and she
said that the situation was much worse in the earlier morning when everyone first
showed up for care. People in the hallways were those with non-critical needs. I
met briefly with the social workers, all of whom greeted M as the long-lost
friend she was. M explained to me that the social workers’ job is to educate
people – particularly poor people – about their care options and available
resources. I later (in Porto Velho) found out that, in Brazil, health care is a
constitutional right.
M also introduced me to one of 30 (count ‘em!) thirty
psychologists who work in the hospital, who explained to me that the
psychologists do various neuropsychological evaluations and other kinds of
testing, but provide little in the way of therapy. The psychologist showed me
how truly tiny the spaces were for the evaluations, and said that the hospital
felt these spaces were enough. In addition to her work at the hospital, this
particular psychologist serves 50 (yikes!) schools, where she works with the
teachers in order to assist children with emotional and/or behavioral difficulties.
R took me to a local park where he and many others
like to take walks around a lake. As was the case in every part of Brazil I have
visited, there were lots of bats that came out at dusk. I quite like bats, and
I loved that this important mammal was as normal a part of the bio-diversity as
were birds. More remarkable than the bats were the capybaras in and around the
lake! They are the cutest rodents I’ve ever seen, and I couldn’t believe that
this animal – for me, an exotic animal – was simply swimming, walking and
chomping about in a community park. The babies were beyond adorable. Look them
up!
After the first outing to the park, R took me to a
huge open-air but roofed market filled with tables full of fruits, vegetables,
cheeses, prepared foods and every imaginable form of yucca. I was very taken by
the method for displaying and selling heads of butter lettuce: lined up
sideways on a long metal skewer, so that the ‘flower’ of the lettuce faced
outward. Enthusiastic as ever to introduce me to new tastes, R purchased a wonderfully
delicious pudding for me to try, made from fresh corn with cinnamon sprinkled
on top.
It had started to rain quite suddenly toward the end
of our walk in the park, and the market was my opportunity to experience the sound
of the rain I had only imagined in Rio, pelting down on the corrugated metal
high above us. It was stupendously loud. At one point, all of the lights went
out briefly and there was a simultaneous exclamation from everyone in the crowd
(including me); R was surprised that I had made the sound along with everyone
else, and asked me if people do this in the US, too. It reminded me that some
sounds are actually quite culturally specific; I later learned (in Nova Olinda)
that, for Brazilians, a sharp inhalation is a sign of admiring wonder rather
than one of fearful surprise or concern as it is in the US.
The crowning glory of my outings with R was a trip to
a set of waterfalls. The drive was often spectacular, with views of green and
rocky bluffs and a huge sky filled with huge clouds. The walk to the waterfalls
was a ‘wow tour,’ with all kinds of amazing vines, seed pods, and various other
botanical life. Here was where I learned that termites are a big fact of life
in some parts of Brazil. Their nests in the trees take many shapes, and I saw
sizes up to 20 inches in diameter.
On the way to the waterfalls, R and I met a cheerful
couple, G and L, and we quickly established a chatty relationship. The second
waterfall had a lake under it and was suitable for swimming, with sweet, soft
and refreshingly cold water. G and I did a little water ballet while L took
photos. I tried to swim closer to the waterfall itself, but the ‘wind’ coming
off it (from the water impact) was so strong as to make that impossible – for
me, at least. R commented that, when in places of such natural beauty, he
always feels they are evidence of God’s existence. I was reminded of my mom’s
dad, who had said something similar the first time he stood in a redwood forest
on a visit to California. Though I don’t believe in God (in the sense of a
person-like being), I do believe that this world is bigger than I am, and that
the sheer force of life is a marvel with an unfolding logic all its own.
In strong contrast to the beauty of the open spaces in
Brazil is the reality of houses built behind walls. Everyone explained to me
that this is a response to crime. Some of the walls have electric wires above
them, and others have glass shards. Many of the walls have a section with a
large metal door that slides open to allow people to drive their cars inside.
All of this creates a barren and forbidding appearance on the streets that I
found quite unattractive. In R’s relatively newer (but not new) neighborhood,
all of the streets are still unpaved; they are dusty with red clay, and are deeply
rutted. R explained that the mayor has promised to pave the streets, but won’t
actually do so until he is running for re-election. I guess some political
tactics are international.
Once behind the forbidding walls, one finds lovely
homes, gardens, and verandas. R and M’s home is modern, streamlined and filled
with light. It boasts a recently added outdoor area, including a kitchen with
built-in grill, and a swimming pool that I never used because I was having too
much fun doing other things. R and M were consummate hosts.
One of the humor highlights of my time in Palmas was
when R and M had a long talk that included the word for clock: ‘relogio.’ When
they finished, R turned to me and asked if I had understood their conversation.
I smiled and replied, ‘relogio,’ which truly was the only word I’d understood.
It became our code for, ‘I don’t understand anything you said.’ I’m on a
mission to get that expression into the Brazilian vocabulary.
There were many lovely and interesting conversations
with people to whom I was introduced. This alone – the happy introduction to
family and friends – really stands out for me in the Latin-American culture.
People are really eager to share the visit, and to introduce the visitor to
others. Topics of conversation have often included politics, and I’ve done my
part to correct the image of people from the US as arrogant world-dominators. In
one discussion (with M’s brother-in-law), I was asked what I had found most
strange in Brazil, and R answered for me: avocado with sugar. It’s true. I was
able to drink a blender drink with sweetened avocado (it was buttery), and I
enjoyed the creamy sweetness of the avocado popsicle, but I still find it a strange
combination. R and M enjoyed the guacamole I made in an attempt to introduce
them to my norm: avocado as a
vegetable rather than a fruit.
The same discussion with M’s brother-in-law took us to
the topic of gun violence. I was informed of a law forbidding people to leave
their homes with a gun. Some Brazilians had objected to the law, using the same
argument as many in the US (including the NRA): ‘But then only the criminals
will have guns!’ This has not turned
out to be the case, and violence has, in fact, gone down since the law was
enacted.
The most challenging experience during my visit to
Palmas was when I joined my friends at their Presbyterian church. There was a
great deal in the service that I didn’t understand at all, but I did understand
the part about marriage being only between a man and woman. I told R that I
found this difficult, as well as inconsistent with the notion of an all-loving
God. He agreed with me and commented that it’s a sensitive topic. I don’t know
if people made any assessment of my sexual orientation, and I found the
community itself very warmly welcoming. This has always been an important
challenge for me: knowing that people with beliefs so different from my own –
so wrong in my opinion – can be such
lovely people. I hope I’m also cut some slack when on the receiving end of that equation: ‘Oh
that Meg! You know, she’s so wrong on the topic of _____, but she’s a good
person.’
The most surreal experience of my trip to Palmas was
when R and I watched ‘The Shawshank Redemption’ together. I had never seen it
before. R loves it, and really wanted to share it with me (which I'm so glad he did). At some point toward the end, having been completely pulled into the
movie, I suddenly realized where I was. I thought, ‘OH, I’m here in Brazil,
watching an older American movie, in English, with my Brazilian friend, R! He
recommended this movie to me, and now we are watching it together! Here in
Brazil!’ It was crazy and disorienting and beautiful. R and I both cried.
As I sat in the plane after my tearful good-bye with
R, crying again, I realized that I hadn’t said good-bye to V, the cat. V had
been an important part of my visit with R and his family, a small connection
with my own cats. I realized how much I had enjoyed and been nurtured by the
daily contact with this animal, with whom I had also established a small
relationship. I know that all of these good-byes bring up other important
good-byes in my life, of all kinds, spoken and unspoken. What a journey this
is!
With love, meg May 15, 2013
I’m currently trying to resolve some problems with
Dropbox, so only this photo for now….
