Nação Zumbi

Well, I have finally done it. I have checked off everything on my list. There were certain things that I wanted to do before leaving Brazil, and as of last night they are all done. It is a strange feeling not to have anything left that I have to do. Of course there are many places that I still want to visit (like the Pantanal), but there is no list to go by.

The List

Fernando de Noronha. Check

Lençóis Maranheses. Check

O Rappa Show. Check

Nação Zumbi Show. CHECK

And this was not just any show. It was at the Nascedouro de Peixinhos. It used to be an old slaughterhouse and has recently been renovated into a gorgeous cultural space. I participated in a dance workshop there a month ago and Sam painted graffiti there as part of a workshop for SPA--a street arts festival. It is in a neighborhood right next to a favela that is considered pretty dangerous, but apparently there is a lot of money coming into the neighborhood from foreign donors to work on the canals and rivers. (There are some photos of this neighborhood in our flicker page from a mutirão de graffiti that Sam participated in.)

It order to keep the place from turning into complete chaos they gave out free tickets the day before the show, something we found out when we arrived at the show. So there we are standing outside watching the opening DJ on a screen out on the street in front of the building and then Nação comes on stage. The whole time I am fuming about watching them on TV and trying to find some way to get in, someone with extra tickets, etc. Just as they start their first song a girl with an envelope runs by and a ticket falls out. She turned and ran back to get the ticket and then as she spun around to leave 6 more tickets flew out of the envelope. It took me about one beat to start moving and grab a ticket off the ground. My group of friends all got one and then we stood there for awhile waiting for her to come back. She didn't. AND WE GOT IN!

It was amazing--like seeing them in a small club or a private party. It wasn't crowded, we were really close to the front without touching other sweaty people, and the sound was amazing. I didn't think it would ever be possible to see a show like this with so few people, especially in Recife, and I am sure that there will never be another chance to see them like this again. Chico Science and Nação Zumbi were one of the first Brazilian bands I got into when I was here in 1999 (right after Chico died), along with Marcelo D2, Rappa, Lenine, etc, so it has been amazing to finally see them in concert. I almost saw Lenine last week, but we got there a little late, but Carnival is coming and the chance to see amazing music will be around for the next two months!

Tonight they are playing another free show at Marco Zero for about 20,000 people. I won't be going...

So, we made a decision. We are staying.

Absent blogger

It is hard to come back. It is hard to write something after you haven't written in ages. What is there to say? I feel as though I should be bringing back profound insights from my hiatus as a blogger, but I did not. I think blogging is not for me. I often want to write about something and then second guess myself into not doing it--no one is interested, too personal, boring, poorly written, the excuses are bountiful, and of course there is sitting at the computer long enough to blog but not to do all of the other things I should be doing.

We are in another phase of "Should I stay or should I go." Annoying isn't it? It is almost a joke every time we start the discussion because we know that there is no answer and no conclusion to come to. After returning to the US for a few weeks I came back with a definite answer--LEAVE, but it was at this moment that Sam had been thinking STAY, so we convinced each other right back into the middle. I have not felt so directionless in a long time and this is not only in regards to staying or leaving but everything that goes with it--building a life somewhere and making the choices that will close doors that I am not sure I want closed. On top of this, I spent the last week in bed with a nasty stomach infection, with plenty of time to get depressed and measure out all of my shortcomings and what I have not accomplished with my time here.

And as proof of my bad blogging I want to delete everything I just wrote for being too whiny, pathetic, and uninteresting, but I am going to keep it.

Mutirão Dois Irmãos

This was the BEST Mutirão EVER! I am not the only one to say this. There are a couple of factors that have lead to this conclusion.

First of all, we were in the most amazing community. I have always liked the area, even though I have not spent very much time there. We have done two hikes in the forest near there right next to the zoo that is part of the only piece of Atlantic forest left in Recife and every time I go to the university I ride past it in the bus. I have been staring wistfully at this neighborhood from afar, and I finally got a chance to check it out up close.

We rode bikes (about a 45 minutes -1 hr ride) to get there which was an experience. I wasn't sure how the ride would be because I normally travel it by bus, but it was a really calm Sunday morning. We got there and found everyone hanging out in a central area by the soccer field (imagine that!). Most of the houses in the community are tucked into the Atlantic forest up on hills and the entire area is amazingly green and peaceful. The group from the Rede in that community recently took over an old police station so the big mission was to paint it and make it welcoming for the community. We went over there, but most of the space was already taken, so Sam and I ended up painting on the soccer field. We painted the proverb, "a bird in the hand is worth two flying." That is the Portuguese version--in the air versus stuck in a bush. Ha! There is actually some interesting political commentary that could come from that.

After painting, we went to Poeta's house and then he took us for a hike to Blanca Diaz' house in the Atlantic forest. We had been there before on the zoo hikes, but it is always spectacular. The legend is that the house belonged to Blanca Diaz (I think that is the right name). Her family was one of the original Jewish settlers in Recife escaping the inquisition (FYI: Recife has the first Jewish Synagogue in the Americas, the Jews from Recife were responsible for settling New York). When the Dutch controlled Recife, the Jews were free to practice their religion, but when the Portuguese took over they were forced to leave (hence the migration to NY). She was one of the few people tried in Brazil for witchcraft during the inquisition. As the story goes, she was burned for being a witch (I think that she was sent to Europe for that) because she was using medicinal herbs and treating the local people. I am sorry that the story is fuzzy, but no one who has told it really has had good details.

We spent the rest of the day playing in the forest and hanging out with the community near the soccer field. I think we were the last to leave! That is probably a first.

If I were to buy a house in Recife, it would be in Dois Irmãos.

Mutirão Arruda

I got what I deserved. I have been saying over and over that we need to organize the kids at the Mutirão so that they have something to paint and it becomes a more positive experience for the community. I was not aware that I would be the one "in charge." I was given about 6 rollers, some white latex paint, and a couple mostly empty bottles of pigment.
If you have brushes, cans, or rollers they will come.
It actually turned out great, but I did have a couple of moments of desperation. Sharing is not so easy when you only have one paintbrush and some paint. Who wants to share a brush? Plus, in the communities, everyone is fighting so hard to get anything they aren't going to give it up easily. Sometimes Sam brings stickers to the Mutirão and within seconds, they are gone. The kids don't care what it is; they just see someone giving something away and then they WANT IT. This is not specific to the communities, this is human nature, but the level of urgency seems different. I should also add that I do not have a lot of experience dealing with kids. I mostly work with the adolescent state of mind these days.

The kids did a great job and came up with a theme "Paz e Amor Na Comunidade" Peace and love in the community. Almost immediately after they came up with the theme, two kids covered another one in paint and almost got into blows over the roller. Enough said.
This is part of the reason I wanted to organize a way for the kids to paint. They get so wound up during the mutirão. All the new people, activity in the street (that isn't pagode), and painting on the walls. Here lies the difficulty. Spray paint is really expensive, and every time the kids get a hold of the materials we never see them again. There is not enough opportunity for everyone to paint so the kids get really frustrated.
We painted a little after the kids finished, but I was ready to head home after that. Sam painted an amazing Lampião (Northeastern folk hero) and we painted a graffiti garden. The garden was simple but fun. We were painting inside someone's wall and there was a birthday party going on, so I had some cake, met some nice people, and painted graffiti on their house. I have a strong feeling that this will not be happening when we go back to NM.

Critical Media Literacy in Brazil

As an English teacher teaching abroad I have had to come to terms with my role as an agent for cultural imperialism The role of English in globalization, commerce, technology transfer, and the economy have made it the world’s second language—often with consequences for other culture’s first. If you are a native English speaker working abroad you have thought about your role in this system, or you are not paying attention.

I have found critical media literacy to be a way to work in this system and justify my work. Everyday here in Brazil I am astounded by the influence of English on people’s everyday lives. In the Brazil Reader (Levine & Crocitti, eds.), Roger Allen takes us on a journey through a typical American shopping mall where all of the ads are in German, the store names are in German, the movies are in German, you can only hear German pop songs on the radio, and all middle class students take German classes after school. Place this scene in Brazil and change the language to English. My students voraciously consume American TV series—they all watch Lost, Grey’s Anatomy, and what they can’t get on TV they download and watch on the Internet. They listen to the same American pop songs and can tell you everything about most American star’s lives. I challenge you to name one Brazilian actor.

The romance with all that is foreign has deep roots in Brazil. Nationalistic dictators essentially closed the country to foreign competition to support the national economy—creating the cult of “everything that is foreign is better.” There is still extremely heavy taxation of imported goods. Foreign = expensive = better. It is in this climate that American media thrives.

As an English teacher, it is great to have so much “real material” available to use in the classroom. When I ask them why they are studying English at the beginning of the year, they all repeat one after another, “For my future. So that I can get a job.” They might be thinking, “’cause my mom makes me,” but they know the right key phrases to tell the teacher. I am not sure where they are being programmed, but it has worked.

Tied in with this idea is the idea of learning English so that they can leave Brazil. There is a general feeling of hopelessness about the state of Brazil. More than once I have heard it called a small scale civil war. That is not an exaggeration. There are on average 38,000 people killed by firearms a year in Brazil—the highest rate in the world (or a close second depending on the year). On average these are poor people killing each other at an alarming rate, with desperation murders of the rich on occasion.

It is in this environment that I am attempting to teach a critical perspective of the role media plays in our society. Brazilian media violence makes the US look like Canada. You have to numb yourself just to leave your house after watching the news. I decided not to get a TV (to the detriment of my Portuguese) partially because I don’t know if I could leave my house after an evening of news. I have the strength to go about my daily life mostly out of blissful ignorance--An acknowledgement of my susceptibility to media messages.

My students are media-savvy. They understand the power of media to make them buy and desire things—they all have an Ipod or want one, but that does not change their ability to be influenced, and they admit that. They are critical of the role the US plays in the world, but they consume its cultural products without blinking an eye.

I teach them to play with media—to adbust, to see how media is made, to make their own movies, and while I do this work with the techno-savvy middle class, I am giving workshops about how communication works, communication as a human right, and empowering people to become communicators in the community. Being a passive media receptor is the norm when you have no access to media—except the talking box that is on all day long in every house. There are more televisions than refrigerators in Brazilian houses. Moving from receptor to creator is a giant leap, and when you get the opportunity to make media, what kind of media do you make? Do you replicate what you have seen? Do you look at something with a new eye? People that work in the free radio and community radio movement have noticed that as soon as people get on the radio their voices change and they immediately put on an accent from Southern Brazil—the accent they hear everyday on the radio and television. They only time you hear an accent from Northeastern Brazil in the media is coming out of the (normally southern) actor playing the maid.

This was supposed to be the introduction to an article on teaching critical media literacy in the EFL classroom. Somewhere in there I have to add Freire, a lot of references, and what all of this means in the classroom. For now I think that I will put it on my blog and keep thinking.

Mutirão Agua Fria

This mutirão was not as amazing as the last one, but we had a chance to paint, hang out with some cool kids, and spend the day in a different community.


Sam painted the hands and some of the “stuff” coming out of the pointed finger. He also generally helped and fixed a lot of my part as well. See the completed image below.









I painted what has become my standard “pods and eyes” coming from the fist. The black is all spray paint! I finally put down the brush and emptied a can of black. Yeah! Now I just want more...

I have been drawing a lot of bird-like figures lately, but I haven’t tried to paint them on a wall yet. Sam made some new caps that should spray a finer line; we just have to figure out how to use them! I think I am going to start practicing using white on our wall. It will be easier to paint over when we leave.





This is the finished piece. A couple of people did the "futebol" goal and goalie in the middle.






My new idea is to try painting proverbs on the walls that work in English and Portuguese. I am thinking about starting with “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”
We’ll see how that goes. I have been thinking about how to paint, “what the eyes don’t see the heart doesn’t feel.” Any ideas? I like the idea of giving people something to think about. Of course, that will depend on the execution.
I think we will miss the next mutirão so we will have to go paint on our own. There are tons of places to paint; it is just a matter of getting a crew together and doing it.

Check out some of the amazing Brazilian graffiti on Flickr. Almost all of it is Sao Paulo/Rio, but you can check out our page to see what is happening in Recife/Northeast Brazil. I think there are only 16 photos of Recife in the Flickr pool...no comment about that.
Graffiti Brasil Pool on Flickr
Our photo page (minus a lot of images of people)

I have been thinking a lot about showing images on the Internet. We took most of the pictures of people off our page and made them available to friends and family only. If you want an invitation let us know. Media has changed so quickly and there are many questions about who has the right to take and show pictures of other people. Before, you took a picture and showed your friends, stuck it in a photo album, etc. Now you take a picture and put it on the Internet for anyone to see and do whatever they want with. I have been thinking about how I use pictures from the Internet (class work, projects, etc.) and giving other people access to my image and images of people who did not make the decision to put their picture on the Internet (especially kids). Anyway, something I have been thinking about.



"If the parents leave, who will take care of the house?"
--Galo

America's Next Top Model & Violence Against Women

Listed below is a link to some of the photos on the crime scene show and the judges inane comments. It is unbelievable to read "she doesn't look dead enough," or "she is supposed to be beheaded and she looks like she is taking a nap." I guess we have to decide where we draw the line. I don't have all of the statistics to spout off, but I do know that here in Pernambuco in the first 24 days of 2006 30 women were killed. I think that in 2007 the statistics are similar.

30 women in 24 days.

This has really been on my mind lately because it is a big part of the media reform movement here. The media's use of women to buy/sell/exploit has been on the radar for awhile now, and yet little has changed. It isn't a beer ad unless a semi-naked women is holding the bottle. Women are products. It seems that the media industry commits so many crimes against women that Top Model's "crime scene" photos unveil the real agenda.

They will depict women in any way that is profitable to them.

It also seems like just one more crime the beauty industry commits against women. This is not a place where women are celebrated. They are scrutinized, demeaned, told they are too old, not thin enough, not pretty enough, etc. just to sell more products. Top Model sells at least one new product an episode through its format. I am sure that this is just another publicity stunt for the show in which media people and feminists get upset, and the majority of the desensitized public sits back thinking, "what's the big deal?"

I guess that is the question. What is the big deal?
The big deal is that it makes violence against women appear beautiful and acceptable
The big deal is that if a picture is worth 1,000 words, what did we just learn?
The big deal is that it is another media depiction of violence that makes the real thing "normal"
The big deal is that violence against women is real, and this is fashion mocking the reality of so many
The big deal is that right now thousands of women die everyday around the world from preventable violence while shows like Top Model tell the models that they don't look "dead enough"
The big deal is that how many women have died in Iraq? Where are their pictures? Where is "blown up by cluster bombs" crime scene photo? Or is that not pretty enough?


Write to the CW network (CW is a CBS company) and tell them what you think: feedback@CWTV.com


NOW's page on Violence against women
Crime Scene photos with judges commentary

Another blog snatch...

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Blog Snatching

Reading other blogs you always run across some cool stuff. I did this awhile ago and now I don't remember where I got it...

Pretty pathetic huh? I obviously have some traveling to do. Hopefully we will get over to Africa soon to visit friends and then something has to be done about Asia...that one tiny red country doesn't seem like enough.












I grabbed this off of someone else's blog (http://parisparfait.typepad.com/)
I think it is hilarious...

I have been wanting to write, but I also feel that I have very little to say. I guess no one reads this blog (except you Ali) so it is really like writing for myself. I guess I am also a little afraid of sounding as whiny as I feel. I am stuck. I want to do so many things, and yet everyday the routine continues. The routine is okay, but something about being here really makes me want to do MORE. It feels like everyday opportunities are slipping by, and I don't have that much to show for my time here.

I think part of it is teaching. I feel like teaching sucks your soul. First of all, you are always working. I am either teaching, planning to teach, or correcting what I have taught, repeat. Second, it is emotional and makes you feel vulnerable. It is amazing what a group of whispering teenagers can do to my self-esteem. A bad class throws me for a couple of days. I am getting better at letting go, but the feeling of having taught a bad class sucks. I seem to have a lot of those. Third, you are constantly giving much more of your energy than you receive in return. At this point I have been doing this for awhile, and yet I do not feel like I am getting any better.


What to do? I have been contemplating auditing a class at the university, signing up for a gym ($$$), taking some kind of art class, doing art on my own, trying to get my research started, etc. I have yet to do any of it. My community media literacy project is dragging along, but we haven't really done much. Hopefully we will finally finish our first workshop CD so that we can move on to the next one.

Alright, enough whining for now. Tomorrow is the next mutirao and I am going to attempt to use mostly spray paint. Could be a disaster. Last night we went to Olinda and danced to forro and coco at Xim Xim da Baiana--very fun. We are also going to Petrolina for 3 days over Easter. I am really excited to see another town in the interior of the state. So, some things are looking up!

Saramandaia Mutirão

The last Mutirão de Graffiti was the best we have been to so far. It was in Saramandaia, a favela in Arruda/Campo Grande. It is the favela where the guys who robbed our friend live. We went over to their house and drank coffee for a couple of hours waiting for everyone to get organized and then walked over the bridge to Saramandaia. It is always an interesting moment when you enter the favela. It is obvious that we are not from there and people STARE. It didn't help that the foreigner to Brazilian ratio was 5:4 that day. We wandered through the maze of houses and mud asking for directions along the way until we reached one of the highest points in the favela. They already had the turntables and microphones set up and were engaging the community in a dialogue about why they were there and the issues specific to that community. We were standing on the side in a narrow path when out of the corner of my eye a machine gun barrel appeared over my shoulder. I pulled the 2 other foreigners visiting out of the way as the police made their presence known.

There were two of them that crept slowly into the plaza guns drawn and fingers on the trigger. My heart started pounding as I tried to position myself behind the wall while keeping an eye on the situation. They crept around and put some guys up against the wall, searched them, and then crept off in a different direction. It was amazing how slowly they were moving--like a top secret spy mission in the middle of a group of people freestyling and playing music. It probably didn't help that the guys freestyling started talking about the situation while making siren noises. Apparently they came back later in the day and lined everybody up against the wall and searched them. This led to a dialogue about police presence in the communities and how any gathering of people has a negative connotation. Everybody was unfazed by the show of force and the day continued on.

We all broke up to find walls to paint on. The walls in most of the communities are not smooth. You are lucky if you get rough concrete that sucks up paint, rotten wooden boards, and if you are really lucky a smooth metal surface. I never am quick (or aggressive) enough to get a good wall. I ended up painting on someone's house/store with a friend from Ilha de Deus.

I would love to say that I painted this by myself, but it was really a combination of me, a friend, and Sam. I end up painting with brushes and some spray paint--I really have to learn to use spray better.

Sam has gotten really good. He painted the guy below and the crab. Everyone loves the stuff he paints. He painted the crab so quickly--I turned around and there it was.













This was such a good mutirão because there was so much going on. The DJ played music all afternoon, there was a dance presentation from a group in the community (photo), rosas urbanas and nacao break did a break dancing presentation, there was a roda de capoeira, and at the end of the night canal capibaribe (community tv station) played videos on the wall of the dance school. There was a very strong community presence and dialogue--exactly what the mutirão should be. Too bad it only happens once a month!

Voltei Recife

Voltei, Recife
Foi a saudade
Que me trouxe pelo braço
Quero ver novamente "Vassoura"
Na rua abafando
Tomar umas e outras
E cair no passo
Cadê "Toureiros"?
Cadê "Bola de Ouro"?
As "pás", os "lenhadores"
O "Bloco Batutas de São José"?
Quero sentir
A embriaguês do frevo
Que entra na cabeça
Depois toma o corpo
E acaba no pé

After an amazing month in New Mexico I was trepidacious about my return to Brazil. My first couple of days here did nothing to ease that feeling and left me ready to book a return ticket for the next week. Our house/dog sitter had to deal with a couple of incidents that she told me about after my 30 hour journey. Sleep deprived I didn't take it so well. Luckily I got some sleep and some perspective before I booked that flight. It didn't help to pull up to my house and find the big wall at the entrance of our street cut down. It felt like my little oasis had been exposed and destroyed. The one place that is my sanctuary in the craziness.

After talking to the neighbors I am okay with it now. They are turning the house at the end of the street into a commercial space that will hopefully not bring too much traffic and more security.

I actually feel better about being here than I did last year. Maybe it is because the pressure of "Fulbright" is off and I can just do what I want to do (and am required to do by work). The city doesn't feel so intimidating, I feel positive about my projects, and I actually run into people I know on the streets! Nothing like seeing someone you know to validate your feelings of belonging. I am becoming very fond of Recife--there is so much going on here and so much to learn, I just have to get out of my house. Last year when I showed up right before carnival, it felt overwhelming and confusing (not to mention the whole ordeal with the airport and the dogs...). This year was wonderful. We went out with the "bloco" of my adopted family here "eu acho e pouco" in Olinda, danced to samba rock and hip hop all night, went to the "Tambores Silenciosos" at the Polo Afro, and of course danced frevo. All with the carnival cold. I got it last year too. I think we might have to stay another year so I can go to carnival just once without being sick. It definitely led to "Carnival lite" for me. Instead of going all day and all night, we limited it to "most of every night." We took a disposable camera (I learned from last year...) so hopefully we will get some pictures. Carnival is not an easily photographed event. I think I just have to accept that.

Ahhh Recife, de novo

The End is Near

The year is rapidly coming to an end. In some ways this is a relief, and in other ways there are a lot of "what ifs" left hanging. I am constantly concerned about whether or not we are taking "advantage of the opportunity" of being in Brasil. Every night we stay home, I wonder if we missed something, every time someone tells us about something and we don't go I feel guilty, and every Saturday night at home is a missed opportunity.

It is funny that I expect something different from my life here. It is as though everything should change because you are in a different place, but it doesn't. Life is life. We go out here as much as we go out at home (well, maybe a little less). It is complicated to live in a big city without a car and deal with public transportation. All of the little things add up to making life just a little more difficult on a daily basis. And where do these expectations come from? Why is it assumed that living abroad means living some extravagant lifestyle that you never had before? I am here to say that, it is not so exotic. Most of the time spent is dealing with the bills, going to the grocery store, and trying to find something to eat for dinner. Occasionally there is a great samba party or art festival to go to...much like home when there is a great dance party in someone's kitchen.

We went to Arte em todo parte in Olinda on Sunday and it was wonderful. All of the artist's studios were open and we had a chance to go peek into all of the beautiful old houses in Olinda. The art festival in Olinda is based on Portas Abertas in Rio that gives people a chance to visit the artist's neighborhood of Santa Teresa. I had the opportunity to go to Portas Abertas in Rio and it was a constant flashback to that time as I wandered through Olinda. All of the houses have a beautiful facade, but appear to be quite small from the outside. When you enter, you realize that the house is enormous and the outside area is expansive. Most of the houses in Olinda have giant backyards full of trees and beautiful plants. Yet again, I want to live where I don't.

I love the idea of being surrounded by people making art, music, dance, etc. Olinda is where all of the cultural action is, and I have to take a field trip to get there. It is a choice, to live where the action is and commute to work, or to live where you work and commute to the party...it is a tough one. I am beginning to think that commuting to work is the way to go. If we stay here much longer, I am going to start looking for a house in Olinda. I should note that I love my house and it makes living in Recife wonderful. Okay, wonderful is a stretch, but I can't think of another word to describe it. We live in a lovely little white house tucked away from the madness about 5 minutes from where I work. We are centrally located, but far from it all. Coming home makes everything all right. I get to eat lunch at home (2 hours!) and it is just a quick jaunt from work to the oasis. Aside: 2 hours is the right amount of time for lunch. It is civilized. It is enough time to go eat at home with your family, pay the bills, get your hair cut, etc, but it is not as excessive as the 4-6 hour Spanish siesta. I don't know if I will be able to adapt to the inane 1 hour or less US lunch again. Lunch is the main meal of the day and should be treated as such. Long and leisurely accompanied by a wonderful juice (or whiskey).

We recently had friends living with us for 2 months and it made the house come alive. Now that they moved out we have two empty bedrooms and it seems like way too much space. I guess this is an invitation for those of you who want to come, stay awhile...We are now lonely, and want people to visit! (up to 3 months is fine, after that, we negotiate)

As always, Brasil has got the best of me..this is my third time here. What is it that brings me back? Something is making is difficult to stay away.

North to South

We just got back from a wonderful (and cold) trip to southern Brazil. We went to the island of Santa Catarina. Beautiful, lovely, tranquilo, green, beaches, clear water, yummy fish, hiking, simplicity, NATURE are just a few of the descriptive terms to use.

The reason for the trip was a conference, I Congresso Latino-Americano sobre a Formacao de Professores de Linguas (I CLAFPL), where I presented. This was my first conference presentation and I had an unexplainable attack of nerves. Sam got nervous just sitting next to me. There were quite a few presentations happening at the same time so there were only about 15-20 people there. Despite the attack, things went well. People seemed interested in the topic (Critical Media Literacy: A 21st Century Teaching Tool) and I didn't throw up. They are going to choose 15 of the conference papers for a book so I need to get writing. I reached a certain point before the conference and just couldn't write any more. I am waiting for inspiration to strike in the next few days, if not it will be forced and painful. I made a few contacts, but mostly just sat by myself during the coffee breaks. I definitely felt like an outsider and it was difficult for me to start conversations with people--I have no idea why. Maybe it was the fact that we were all freezing.

Apparently, we showed up for the coldest November in 12 years and a serious "southern wind." (Which reminds me of the dead penguin we saw on the beach. They get caught in the southern current and are sucked up the coast). Of course, Sam was loving it. I had to buy a sweatshirt the first day. It was a nice change to sleep with blankets and feel a chill in the air. Of course, that meant no beach weather, but it was fine. We ended up walking on the beach and doing some gorgeous hikes through the mountains along the coast. I wish that I could post some pictures, but our camera is broken. I am going to keep saying that in every post because it kills me a little every time. It is pointless to buy another camera here ($$$), to get it fixed we would have to send it to Sao Paulo, and we are going home in about one month. Despite all of that, the idea of not getting any more pictures for the rest of the year is quite sad. We are planning a trip for New Years and my Birthday to one of the most beautiful places in Brazil. How can we not take pictures??!? We will figure something out.

Ahhh the south. Basically, I want to move there. Now. I told myself last time that I was here that if I came back, I would live in Florianopolis. Ha. It is becoming a very sad story that I want to live everywhere that is not Recife. I shouldn't be so hard on Recife because there are a lot of good things--like the Samba party until 4 in the morning last weekend...oh wait, that was Olinda. It is just the big city syndrome. If I can figure out how to make a living outside of the city, I would be there in a heartbeat. I was thinking about a doctoral program...of course there is no money in that! I was happy to get back to the nice perfect weather (70's and low 80's), my house, the dogs, and my students (ha). Actually, there are only 3 more weeks of school! I am excited for the semester to be over. Everyone is bored, including me. I can't seem to come up with anything interesting to teach so I am going to give them lots of activities for grades--quizzes, reading, writing, etc. Good way to end on a high note! Oh well. It will only hurt for a minute.

We are celebrating Thanksgiving at the school next week. How strange. It is just getting hotter and turning into summer--it just doesn't fit with Thanksgiving. Also, it isn't a holiday here. Just like the Halloween party we had. Just doing my little part for cultural imperialism. The same could be said for the weird fake plastic Christmas trees, lights, Santa Claus figures, and other Christmas crap that does not make any sense in a tropical climate but sells the "image" of Christmas.

So the moral of this story is that southern Brazil is a beautiful and a wonderful place to be a tourist and Christmas in the tropics should not involve all of the kitchy crap that goes with Christmas in the cold.

Favela 101

We just got a little lesson in how things work in the favela. Favelas are shantytowns in Brazil. In Rio, they are up on the hills, in southern Brazil they are outside of the cities, and in Recife, they are everywhere. It is one of the characteristics of Recife. Unlike the US where you have the good part of town and the other side of the tracks, in Recife the good and the bad parts are mixed together.

Our friends live in an area of town where there are quite a few favelas around them. They are very involved in the social movements here in Recife and have connections with a lot of people in these communities. It is common knowledge in their neighborhood that they are part of the community and "considerada." Yesterday as my friend was riding her bike; two guys on bikes came up behind her, pushed her off her bike, and took her bag. She was fine, but a little dazed and trying to deal with the implications of that happening in her neighborhood. So this is where Favela 101 comes in.

Everyone that saw it happen knows who she is, the information passed quickly through the favela, and a group of guys immediately got ready to go after the muggers to the other favela. Going from one favela to another requires having the right connections and knowing who runs things. Going in alone is not an option. This group of guys got their gear and were heading into the other favela when they saw her talking to the police. They immediately called off the hunt and decided to lay low. Her experience with the police was completely unhelpful. They went into the favela (the one the guys passed through but aren't from) and searched a couple of people, made their presence known, made her feel bad, and left.

Her husband came home and put in the calls necessary to all of his connections in the different favelas involved (about 3 in the area) and found out the names he needed. He let it be known that they could keep the money and the cell phone, but they wanted the personal stuff back.
This morning they went to the area with one of their friends from the area "to be seen." They walked around and talked to people and of course let these guys know that they weren't afraid and weren't hiding. Important if they are going to continue to live there and not be a target.

In case you haven't figured it out, information moves FAST in the favela. If you live on top of 200 other people, nothing is a secret for very long. They met with some guys who told them to go to the corner bar and talk to 2 guys there. At the bar, the 2 guys told them to come back at noon, but only her husband could go. Too many people who aren't from the area are too suspicious. He went back and through a series of different people and conversations ended up in another neighborhood where a friend of theirs had her stuff (minus the phone and the cash). He walked in the house this afternoon holding everything.

You can imagine the stupefied looks on our faces. It is such a crazy system of who you know, who you can mess with, and who you can't. If it had been one of us, there would be no recourse, but because she is known in the community, it was completely unacceptable. Other members of the community have talked to the guys who did it and they now know that she is off limits and that they crossed the line by mugging her.

The nature of the favela makes it such a different network of communication and community than what I know. People literally live piled on top of each other separated by cardboard walls or anything else that creates a semblance of privacy. Some live in the "matchstick houses" out over the polluted canals. There are a labyrinth of tiny passageways and bridges connecting people together defining a territory that outsiders cannot understand. There are 3 favelas in the area and they are all run by different people and have different rules about who is okay and who isn't. Our friends were connected to two of the favelas, but now they have the right connections in the third one because of what happened.

Out of all of this, my friend is able to humanize what happened to her by looking at how desperately those people are living. What I came out of this thinking is how much courage is takes NOT to rob people. There are many more people living in the favelas who are hunting their next meal and trying to scrape by who do not resort to violence than those who do.

Lula de Novo Com a Forca do Povo

Last night we went to Marco Zero to watch the election results and party. I guess it would be fair to say that we went to watch the party...All of Recife Antiguo was filled with people wearing red and yellow with flags everywhere. There were some small Carnival blocks, percussions groups, a big stage, and lots of frevo. Frevo is the beat that moves Pernambuco. Everyone knows all of the songs and the rhythm makes you want to jump around. It gave Sam a taste of what Carnival is like here...I am not sure if he is going to like it. The amount of venders that show up for the events is quite impressive--any kind of food and drink possible. My favorite was the guy walking through the crowd with a vodka bottle taped to an orange fanta bottle with the cups over the bottleneck and the bag of ice tied onto the end. The perfect party kit. There was another guy dressed up quite nicely walking around with a tray of cups of ice selling whiskey--very chique. Amazingly, enough we actually found some friends in the crowd and had a couple of caipiroskas.

Oh yeah, and the politics. Can't forget the whole reason for the party. Lula was reelected last night as president of Brazil (with more than 60% of the vote) and here in Pernambuco Eduardo was elected governor (I swear I don't know his last name! All of the campaign information just said "Eduardo." I wonder if it has to do with that scandal a couple of years ago...). This was the run-off election because Brazil being a civilized country (unlike another country that shall remain nameless) has a run-off election if the candidate did not win by more than 50% of the vote. Both of these candidates are PT (workers party). Lula is actually from the interior of Pernambuco so he has a lot of support in the Northeast. It is interesting to look at the map of Brazil for the October 1st election-- it is completely divided in half (Blue=Alckmin, Red=Lula) . A country divided?

The north voted for Lula and the south voted for Alckmin. I heard some people say that they were voting for Lula because at least he will think about development for the Northeast. Good point there. The north and northeast of Brazil are the poor neglected cousins of the rich south. The economy of the country is driven by southern industry while the northeast languishes in giant sugar plantations owned by the sugar barons of the past or giant companies. You drive through the countryside here and all you see is sugar cane. No houses, no agriculture, no food being produced, just sugar. The Movimento Sem Terra (landless farmers movement) has some shacks built alongside the sugar cane, but there is only work cutting cane for about half the year. The land reform movement never happened here and land ownership is still colonial with the plantation owners from the days of slavery still controlling giant tracts of land in Brazil.

I would also like to throw in a little theory of mine regarding the desserts here. I think that from the colonial days sugar = wealth and so that is why the desserts are so unbelievably sweet. Showing off your sugar, so to speak.

Sorry--agricultural and dessert side track

Lula has had some corruption scandals during his administration (nothing new in Latin America), but people really believed that the PT would change things. They promised a new Brazil, and so far, it hasn't happened. To be fair, 4 years is a short time to change such a messed up system. Lula has instituted some social programs like the bolsa familia and the cesta basica (basic food basket) that have helped many people get out of complete poverty, but without jobs they have no where to go. None of the corruption scandals has traced to Lula, but pretty much everyone else in his cabinet is dirty. Anyone remember the guy caught at the airport with literally $100,000 in his underwear? Small change. Also, apparently Eduardo had some sort of corruption scandal in the past. That happens all the time. Steal some money, let some time pass, run for election again. How frustrating.

Hopefully the next four years will bring better things for Brazil. The energy of the people working for change is amazing. That energy is moving all over Latin America...

The surfista

I just can't let this go by without a comment. About a month ago Sam needed a haircut, and instead of old reliable we ventured one street over to the place especially "For men." There were quite a few clues that should have sent us straight out the door, but you know how it is--once you are in, it is hard to leave. We are sitting there waiting and I notice a sign on the wall that says, "One free shot of whiskey with every haircut." Then the tiny haircutter man looks over and asks, "Are you here for a manicure or a massage?" We explain that no, he justs wants a haircut. The haircutter man then whips out the book and starts asking which haircut does Sam want, "The americano? The desperado? Executivo? None of the established haircuts seemed quite right, and after pushing the americano quite hard he remembered that the surfista was missing from the book. He quickly decided it was the surfista that we wanted and proceeded to get to work. I made sure everything was clear and then left for other beautification rituals at my salon (yes, the bikini wax). Later that day Sam came home with shorter hair. It wasn't quite what he wanted but it seemed okay. It wasn't until the next day that the awful truth was revealed.

The surfista is the haircut that your brother had in middle school. The one that is long all around the top until it gets below the ears. The rest is shaved really close. A mushroom might be the best image. Sam has been suffering the surfista until yesterday when we went to old reliable and begged him to fix the damage. I really wanted to post a picture but our camera is broken. The surfista will only live on in memory.

The Media Project

Last week during the Semana Nacional de Democratização de Comunicação Anderson and I presented our first media literacy workshop on critically analyzing advertising and propaganda. Anderson works with an organization called Ventilador Cultural (cultural fan) that works in the social communication movements training people in communication techniques, production, and now MEDIA LITERACY!! We did not have a big turnout (6 total), but it was a start. The whole format went well and with some minor adjustments, we will be ready to do it again. Of course after the workshop was over everyone said how interested they are and that we should give the workshop at their organization, blah, blah. Interested? Yes. Enough to come on a Wednesday evening after work? Not a chance. Some people have even asked to use our material in their own presentations (who didn't bother to come...) hmmm. Not sure how I feel about that.

On the other hand, we did get some more publicity by doing an interview on "Sopa Diario" on the University TV station. I have to say I was really nervous--not really about being on TV, but about being on TV in PORTUGUESE. How am I going to explain what media literacy is, the purpose of our project, what the workshop was like in Portuguese? Other than one obvious blank out moment, things went okay. Most of the feedback from people was that they were able to understand me...whew. We actually have received a few emails from people interested in what we are doing and collaborating on workshops. This feels like an important first step for getting things moving. The plan is to create a series of workshops on media literacy for the community and release the material as PDF's under creative commons. At that stage we would like to begin working more with teachers and NGO leaders to do some intense trainings with the eventual plan of creating a media literacy curriculum for the public schools. This is a seriously long-term goal that is going to require grant money as some point (so I can quit teaching English!). We are starting to make some connections, and the money is out there--we just have to find it.

The media in this country is so tightly controlled and controlling. The Brazilian world revolves around Globo and the 8 pm soap opera. Interestingly, Globo was started with the help of the US during the Brazilian dictatorship...there are still questions of US involvement. There was a British documentary made about Globo called something like "More than Citizen Kane" about the owner of Globo, but it was censored and the production was never finished. I downloaded it off of the amazing site www.midiaindependente.org/ which is a spin-off of the Indy media center http://www.indymedia.org/pt/. These site allow people to upload their own media. A lot of the videos about the social movements here in Recife are on this site. I saw a great shirt during the communication week that said (in Portuguese) "Hate the media? Make media!" Such an incredible movement of people. Is this happening in the US? I can think of a few groups in Albuquerque interested in the alternative communication movement, but it doesn't seem to be one of the major discussions around the water cooler. I guess it is not a big discussion around the water cooler at my job either--except for the 2 teachers that saw me on TV. But that was more shock than anything else.

There is another amazing movement called "Quem financia a Baixaria é Contra a Cidadania" This group targets how people are being represented on TV shows in regards to human rights. There is a strong tradition of local programs that display violence and poverty as entertainment while violating the rights of many of the people they show. In many of the poor neighborhoods, the need to be seen (acknowledged) is manipulated by these programs. The campaign targets the companies that finance these programs through advertising. They have been very successful at bringing this to the attention of the government and starting to create regulations (and consequences) for violating human rights on television. Their site is: http://www.eticanatv.org.br/

Public Space Invaders

Public space. The visual environment that urban dwellers share and exchange information with on a daily basis. It is the foundation of our environment, where we receive information about ourselves and others, the intersection of place and self, and it is dominated by advertisements and messages of consumer culture. A space that should be dedicated to who we are as a people, how to work together as communities, and understanding cultural differences is dominated by private enterprise always thinking of new ways to sell you something. Why is public art illegal but a corporation can put its mark anyway with complete disregard of a person's choice of what to see and not see. They are deciding my visual environment for me. This domination of space is affecting me more and more as I venture into the world of public art/graffiti and critical media education.

We have a local park, Jaqueira, that is a lovely retreat from the chaos of the city. There is a walking path, a bike path, numerous playgrounds for children, enormous trees, a place for different types of classes, a tiny church, and a BMX bike track with jumps. As of last week it is now "Nestle Park" with giant Nestle signs everywhere. There are different Nestle products painted at every 100 meter mark, all of the equipment was repainted Nestle blue and white, there are ice cream signs with misters along the paths,nestle stuff all over the children's play equipment, and two kiosks where you can buy Nestle products and drink Nescafe. Is the government incapable of maintaining this park so it turned it into a corporate-sponsored amusement park? Was it just easier to turn it over without asking people if they want to see advertising in one of the few "ad-free" zones? Is that the trend of public spaces?

Boston Gardens has changed its name numerous time to fit its latest sponsors name. We see shows at the Journal Pavillion in Albuquerque, the convention center in Recife is Chevrolet Hall. What about the integrity of the place? The history of what it is and where it is going? Where do we make meaning from our surroundings if the only meaning is created by branding?
I just keep thinking of what society could be. What if our public spaces really were public? What if the visual images surrounding us were not based on consumption but on a desire for creation? We have followed this model without questioning why and now it is so far gone we don't even notice. How did it get so out of control? How did it become so ingrained in our mental environment?

Adbusting and culture jammers remind us that these displays are not fixed and are not permanent. They are created just like everything else in our urban landscape. Our urban environment perpetuates the cycle of consumerism and unsustainable use--culture selling culture back to itself.

Graffiti long disparaged by the official rule makers of our society is an expression that is unwilling to accept what the urban landscape is supposed to look like. While I have definite beliefs about the difference between tagging and graffiti, it is all attempting to make your voice heard in a society that has silenced everyone but the corporation. When the corporation gained its right to be "a person" it became the great censure of all of its fellow "human beings." Mass communication is not communication at all. It is corporations giving information and people receiving. Communication implies an exchange of information between both parties. Where is the exchange? How did I become relished to being a receiver with no outlet for my voice to be heard? Who makes those decisions? Why are we so afraid of taking back that space? Why are we not insisting that we have some right to decide what we see?

I think that for every "bought" space that a company occupies it should provide the equal amount of space to the community. Imagine a city where the community decides what its public space should look like. It would be varied, strange, and possibly offensive, but it would be real expression and not constant messages of culture bought and sold. Or better yet, the company should leave that equal space for trees.

Forró

Sam and I are taking Forró dance lessons. Okay, stop laughing.

Forró consists of an accordion, a triangle and a drum. Okay, start laughing. It can get more complicated--full band, scantily clad dancers throwing each other around the stage, people descending onto the stage and flying around on wires, and pyrotechnics. The complicated
forró is "Forró Estilizado" or stylized forró. The basic 3-man band is called "pe-de-serra." I prefer pe-de-serra because the estilizado forró seems really sexist. I am basing most of this information of the exhaustive DVD collection of forró our friend Carlos has. I have watched hours and hours of all of the "greats" and been to a few shows. I can't decide if the dislike comes from the mostly naked women shakin it while the male vocalist fondles her ass or that the woman vocalist normally only chimes in for some moaning to accompany the male vocalist. There may be more to it, and I am sure that there is, but I have yet to see it. I prefer the old men in the Lampião hats with their accordions. Estilizado incorporates at lot of the lambada moves (yes, it was not just a movie). Lambada went out of fashion and forró became the thing--and still is.

Our teacher makes us "warm-up" to the same two Dido songs every class. What Dido has to do with forró I have yet to figure out, I also question how "warmed-up" we get pointing and flexing our feet for two Dido songs. There is a little side-to-side hip movement and occasionally a giant hip circle. Voila! Ready to dance forró. Our class is a strange mix of people. It is strangely comforting to watch Brazilians taking classes for what seems so natural for them. Everywhere we go it just seems like everyone knows how to dance. It is extremely thrilling when we are actually better than someone. This tends to only happen because we have been taking classes for a month and it is their first night. I take what I can get.

Normally the teacher shows us a new move and then there is a whirlwind of two minute dances and changing partners. I can't figure out how you are suppose to learn how to dance if you only do one move for two minutes and switch partners. W did this for a couple weeks and then finally asked if I could please dance with my husband. When we started dancing together things improved considerably. We are the only couple in the class so I don't feel too guilty about always having a dance partner while the other girls take what they can get. There was one class when the boys outnumbered the girls and had to wait their turn....I wonder if there is a dance class anywhere in the world where this happens.

The name forró comes from WW II (or so the story goes...) when the America soldiers were stationed in the Northeast they held dances that were "for all" and somehow with some accent issues it turned into forró (pronounced fo-ho). It looks like sexy Mexican ranchera dancing. The goal is to press as close to your partner as possible so that you move as one person in either a side-to-side or back-and front motion. We learned a new move tonight called the twist. Not a fan of this one. In couples dance position you twist (think 60's) and if things get really exciting you can click your heels together (think Kid 'n Play). The whole thing when done well it is quite impressive, needless to say that we are not doing it well. Sam is having to learn to lead for the first time in his life, and I am having to learn to follow for the first time in my life. A little give and take.

We have not ventured beyond the dance studio to see if we can make it in the real world. I think another month or so in the comfort of Dido might not be a bad idea.