Brazzil
September 1999
ImpressionsAt Home,
in BahiaIn the middle of all this I experience a feeling comparable to what I felt in Martinique, Haiti, New Orleans, Watts, Dominica. I am black, African, Afro-American amongst brothers and sisters I have never met before. But for accident of where the slave ships disembarked, I could have been born in here and they in San Diego or New Orleans. It's a feeling of belonging and not having to justify your existence or defend your rights because of your race.
Steve Baiano
I have often been asked how I got interested in Brazil. It started in 1978, when I saw Black Orpheus, the 1959 Oscar winning film. I was enthralled by the story, music, and colors, of this film classic. Nine years later, I was in Brazil. I am going to share with you notes from my diary when I first went to Bahia in 1987. I visited the magical city of Salvador, Bahia, aka, Roma Negra (Black Rome). After reading this, you may understand how that first experience had such an impact on me. Get yourself a nice cup of cafezinho, relax and enjoy...
In 1986, I befriended a Baiano (a person from Bahia) named Geraldo. He was one of the first Afro-Brazilians I met. He was without a place to stay, so I offered him my house and also taught him English. We became great friends. A year later he arranged for me to stay with his family in Bahia. The following is a daily journal that I kept of my day-to-day experiences....
February 16, 1987
Mulattos, Morenas e
Cabo Verdes8:00 AM—Arrive in Salvador. Looking out the windows, the scenery reminds me of Martinique, many palm trees laden with coconuts. It's an awareness that I'm experiencing now, coming from San Diego where it feels like Geraldo, the Navy, and I are the only blacks living in Point Loma section of San Diego. In Salvador the majority of the people have Africa in them.
While eating dinner with his family, I was discussing the movie The Brother from Another Planet, sharing with them Geraldo's experience in San Diego and describing him as the "brother from another country." In talking to them in Portuguese, I made use of the word preto to refer to us blacks. I could sense from their reaction, that this was not a word that they use to describe themselves. They were mulattos, morenos, cabo verdes. In Brazil, the concept of race is not as rigid as in the U.S. In the U.S., if you have any African heritage, you are considered black, regardless of skin color, or hair texture. In Brazil, the concept of race is much more fluid. Black people come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. I see so many more faces here than I have seen back in the States.
I found out that Brazil like the United States has many different terms to describe people of African heritage based on their skin color, hair texture, and facial appearance. The only difference is that in the U.S. despite, the terms, the individual is still considered black. In the U.S. they use terms like redbone, high yellow, rimey, etc. In Brazil, some of these are: sarará: fair skinned blond hair; mulatto: mixture of African and Caucasian; pardo: a mixture more African than Caucasian; cabo verde: dark skin with straight black hair and preto: black F.O.B. "Fresh off the boat" with no intrusion of Indian or Caucasian bloodline. Their African Diaspora is a beautiful quilt that stretches all around the world. Hinton and Elsa, Geraldo's aunt and uncle have treated me just like a long lost relative.
The people I've met are wonderful. Yesterday, Rose Ângela, Geraldo's sister and Indaia, Geraldo's cousin, took me to Rio Vermelho to drink coco gelado (ice-cold coconut). I made the mistake of saying coca gelada (ice-cold Coke), which is an entirely different thing, and eat acarajé (fried black eye pea fritter cooked in palm oil stuffed with peppers), vatapá and seasoned shrimp. The Baianas (women cooks) sat stooped over their pots filled with azeite de dendê (red palm oil) and meticulously prepared their savory treats, just as they have done for centuries. Friends of mine from Nigeria say they eat the same thing. In Nigeria, it is called acara.
February 17, 1987
Trios ElétricosWe went to the beach last night and there were thousands of people celebrating. In the middle of the celebration was this enormous multicolored sound truck called a trio elétrico. It blasts sound. Rose Ângela, Cláudia, and I danced behind this moving wall of sound as it moved slowly up and down the streets. Imagine a Greyhound bus with a band on top, fill the inside of the van with generators, amplifiers and speakers, add lots of lights and you now have a trio elétrico.
We met Nelson, Rose Ângela's ex-spouse. Also met Indaia's brother and his family. His daughter said that I have an accent like a Paulista, someone from São Paulo. Salvador is a big city divided into cidade baixa (lower) and alta (upper). The roads aren't too bad, but the people drive like Haitian cab drivers. In size and population, it is comparable to San Diego, about 2 million people and very spread out.
The biggest difference that I notice is that the majority of the population is of African descent, 80% to 90%. The people came from the same West African gene pool that African-Americans are descended from. They are a major part of the African Diaspora. Being in Salvador has awakened something inside me. It is like a key has opened the box, coming home and reconnecting to culture and a people. I've seen naturals, dreadlocks, short hair, straight hair, curly hair, wavy hair, but no Jheri curls. Baianos have a pride in themselves and their own natural beauty of which there is an abundance and the likes of which I have never seen before.
February 18, 1987
Bonfim and ItaparicaGreat day. I went to the magnificent church of Senhor do Bonfim. Inside the A section of the church were hanging hundreds of waxen limbs, heads, torsos, and breasts. I learned that they were left there as a token of thanks for the many who have been cured of their illnesses. We went to Eurico's house for breakfast and took the 45-minute ferryboat ride with Indaia and Rose Ângela to Itaparica. Itaparica is a large scenic island in the middle of the Baía de Todos os Santos (Bay of All Saints). It is a rustic and tranquil place that time has forgot with barefoot kids running, fishing, having fun.
I got sick while I was there. Had a diarrhea attack and was on the toilet for what seemed like an eternity. On the way back from the island, I laid down in the back of the car, dreading the ferryboat ride back to the city in my condition. The ride back temporally calmed me down. I rested my head in Rose Ângela's lap as Indaia drove. I kept them laughing with my impressions of James Brown, Tarzan, and a macaw. They think I am a little maluco (crazy).
As Indaia drove back to the house, weaving in and out of traffic, I felt my stomach churn like a blender. My salivary glands were acting up. As the car entered the underground driveway, I could sense an impending disaster of enormous proportions. I gotta get to the bathroom ASAP. As soon as I opened the door, I felt the sweet nauseating taste that signals the start of regurgitation. I rushed outside, and began convulsing uncontrollably as the food from the last three days discovered a new way to exit from my body. Whew, what a horrible feeling of relief... The nausea was gone, but I still felt like shit. Anyway, I went upstairs, and showered... No more acarajé.
I am feeling a little frustrated. I have spoken virtually only Portuguese for the last three days. I know in the long run that it is best for me, but I would like to hear a little, "Hey brother, whaz up?" every now and then. Indaia knows how to speak English, but will only use it in an emergency.
February 19, 1987
Shopping / People /
ObservationsIt's 10 AM and I am still in bed. That is the nice thing about being on vacation... Good to be able to stay in bed if you choose and not have to be ruled by time... Go where you wanna, when you wanna, or not go anywhere at all. We went to Iguatemi shopping center, the equivalent of Horton Plaza in San Diego. Many shops, great clothing, but not a lot of clothes for a guy like me. I am a tad taller and broader than the average Baiano.
As I get out each day, I am getting more of a feel for the city and its people. I have seen the equivalent of slums that I found in Tijuana. I have also seen some very nice areas around Barra, Rio Vermelho, Pituba, and Ondina. I have never seen so many attractive and beautiful women in one city in my life. The women have beautiful smiles, great figures and are very friendly.
Rose Ângela and I go to Iguatemi, and get tickets to go see Gal Costa, one of Bahia's best singers. We took the bus to the Mercado Modelo and saw capoeira. The participants were all powerful, and graceful athletes. When they finished they asked for a donation. I met some of the local artists. One of artists who I approached said that because of my color, he would give me a break on the prices. He thought I was from Africa. He said that it was his observation that many European tourists would come through clutching their bags and never smile. He said that a little smile goes a long way and is always appreciated.
I purchased a glorious balangandã (knickknack) that was made out of brass. Below the Mercado Modelo, we went to a place that slaves used as a hiding place. It was dark and the water was cool. One could feel the haunting, wailing of the souls who had passed through there. We later went to visit Kátia and Beto. Beto is very nice, but crazy. We jumped in the car and drove to the beaches of Itapoã. Along the way, we passed swamps, lakes, and lots of lush vegetation. Itapoã was a very beautiful beach.
We bought crabs and shrimp to take home for the gumbo I am cooking tomorrow. I like to share my culture with other people. It is a two-way mirror. The open-air market is not like your local Vons or Ralph's, but they have things there that you will never find a Ralph's or Vons. There are fruits like jacas, pinhas, or palm oil, and dried meats. The sights, sounds, and smells you experience really put your senses through their paces. The section of Itapoã beach we visited was unpaved. The warm emerald and turquoise waters are breathtaking.
I tried to candidly take photos of some of the women. That wasn't working too well, so I just went up and said do you mind in I take your picture. They all obliged. It was a great day for making friends, eating churrasco (Brazilian barbecue), crabs and drinking Brahma beer. Beto explained the differences between male and female anatomy. He felt that may come in handy one day. The day at the Itapoã beach was heavenly... warm and cool breezes caressed my body... The women in Bahia have beautiful bundas (buttocks).
February 21, 1987
Restaurants &
Gal Costa & Ilê AiyêWe ate at Baby Chick's Restaurant. For less than $3.00, you get one Baby Chick (whole chicken), sausage, and a steak. Their Mr. Bigburger was not too good, it makes me yearn for a Boll Weevil 1/2 pounder. The only thing big about Mr. Bigburger was the big bun. "Where's the beef?" We met Kátia & Beto at the Gal Costa concert, which costs $3.00 to get in. The Convention Center had state of the art lights and sound. Gal Costa was fantastic. She radiates charm and charisma. It sprinkled off and on during the concert and we took cover under the bleachers.
After the Gal concert, we drove to a very old section of the city. It must have been 2:00 AM. It was still raining, but there were literally thousands of people in the streets partying to the rhythm of drums. The air was moist and bodies were moving back and forth like an onda negra (black wave). We were in the middle of Ilê Aiyê. Bahia's first bloco Afro. This Afro-Brazilian Cultural Group) was founded in 1974 by Vovô as a protest against discrimination towards blacks in Bahia.
In the middle of all this I experience a feeling comparable to what I felt in Martinique, Haiti, New Orleans, Watts, Dominica. I am black, African, Afro-American amongst brothers and sisters I have never met before. But for accident of where the slave ships disembarked, I could have been born in here and they in San Diego or New Orleans. It's a feeling of belonging and not having to justify your existence or defend your rights because of your race.
Reggae Music is very popular in Salvador. Africa is in Salvador, well so is Jamaica. Dread locks are worn with pride. After visiting Ilê Aiyê, we went to Bloco Afro Muzenza. Upon entering the place, I felt that I was back at Spanky's, a Reggae Club in San Diego... Dreads everywhere, pictures of Bob Marley, and Jamaican flags. The beat was jammin'... Brothers and sisters was skanking like crazy. One of the brothers who looked like Bob Marley came over and asked me if I was from Jamaica. I had a Jamaican flag on my shirt.
I responded no, I was a tourist from San Diego and love reggae music. He spoke a little English with a West Indian accent. His name was Lino de Almeida and was a judge for the dance contest and show. We exchanged addresses and numbers. He said that if something is really good, the black people in Salvador say "massa, bicho." Later on, we met Aurélio, ex-boyfriend of Rose Ângela. He was into the music and culture of Bloco Afro Muzenza, and was also a capoeirista. Because of his blond curly hair, light skin, and blue eyes, the average person would assume he was Caucasian.
Getting back to Aurelio, the boy could not stop. His body was able to move in 4-5 different directions simultaneously. He later made a comment after he had not been given one of the Muzenza brochures, because he was big, looked white and people assumed he was a tourist from America. How ironic I thought to myself. I am here and people assumed I am Baiano and he's Baiano and people assumed he's American.
As the night went on, we got down with the music generated by the 25 drummers playing various sizes of the Brazilian surdo drum. A surdo drum may be as big a garbage can and produces a sound that is irresistible to dance to. The more intense the beat the stronger you dance. There is no other beat or kind of music that I have experienced that affect me that way. It awakens something deep inside me.
On the stage were seven beautiful Baianas dressed in African clothing and adorned in jewelry, dancing together in unison on elevated platform. Like a moth drawn to a flame there I went. The women had their hips gyrating, arms waving, feet moving... the music intensified. The crowd caught up in the frenzy, and I thought to myself, this is not even Carnaval yet. I wish I could package this experience and share it with all of my friends.
We left at 5:00 AM. It was raining dogs and cats... empty streets, I do not recall seeing many homeless although there was a lot of poverty. I fell asleep as Rose Ângela drove home. I was awakened by the sensation of being on a miniature roller coaster ride. Rose Ângela had fallen asleep at the wheel and was trying to regain control of the vehicle. We were very lucky that we hit nothing. "Praise the Lord" as my grandmother used to say. What a day in Salvador... Days spent at the beach and the night at Ilê Aiyê and Muzenza... Massa bicho.
February 22, 1987
Filhos de Gandhi
Jerry Springer momentTonton, Geraldo's brother, is a member of Filhos de Gandhi (an 8,000 member afoxé group founded in 1949 by Afro-Brazilian dockworkers who identified with Gandhi's non-violent movement to fight oppression) They dress in beautiful white robes and turbans during Carnaval. When they move down the street it is an impressive sight.
On the way to the Filhos de Gandhi rehearsal, we passed the location where they filmed the movie "Dona Flor and her Two Husbands." It was a beautiful part of the city with quaint architecture and houses painted in soft pastel greens, pinks, and shades of eggshell white.
We drive to the rehearsal hall. It is hidden behind a wall. I can't see them, but I can feel them. Those drums, those chants... a connection to Africa that is so strong, so powerful, so intact. A measure of a people's culture. It is their traditions, oral and written language, art, music, dance, love of life. No one culture or race is superior we are all equal, different in some ways but alike in many more ways. Anyway, back to Filhos de Gandhi.
We get out of the car and there are masses of people milling around trying to get in. Believe me this is a sellout and there is not S.R.O. (Standing Room Only). We go to the gate and Tonton flashes his Filhos de Gandhi membership card. It is not enough to get us in. We wait... we hope... the crowd grows in size. I have already mapped out my escape route. I am prepared to scale a seven-foot wall if it gets out of hand. The door opens...The crowd surges and like a miniature tidal wave, Tonton and his wife Velma get pushed in. But Rose Ângela and I don't. The gate locks. Drums a pounding, Police are called in to keep order... machine guns displayed... people screaming... it's chaos... I feel like I am in a movie... A very surreal experience
Rose Ângela and I wait for the next opening. It comes, we surge, we get separated and she gets pushed in. I am still on the outside facing armed police and an angry mob. A woman, for lack of a better term, cuts in front of me. I will never forget what she did. Her leg locks me so I can't move and she uses her body as a barricade to keep me from getting inside. Not laying a hand on her, I submarined her and made my way in. She made me mad with her rude behavior. I was determined to get in. What an experience once we were all inside. Congo drums, agogôs and the chanting of the Filhos de Gandhi...
Back in Brazil
10 years laterOn September 1, 1999, I arrived back in San Diego after spending five and a half weeks in Brazil. It was an incredible trip. I have been to Brazil six times, but this trip was my first visit to the big "B" since 1994. My last visit was Carnaval in Bahia. I will never forget riding on top of Olodum's truck with João Jorge, Paulo Gaudenzi, Regina Casé, and Caetano Veloso. Being away from Brazil for five years will give anyone a lot of saudades. My twin goddaughters, Karol and Karine, who live in Rio, are now nine years old.
This trip was a very unique experience. I was hired to work as a bodyguard for the Masked Magician, known in Brazil as Mr. "M". He had the highest rated TV show on Fox, when he revealed the secrets of magic. We arrived in Rio on July 26th. Two hours after we land there is a press conference with 50 journalists. It was a media circus with cameras flashing and the press asking him very provocative questions about his magic show and personal life, things like: are you gay, are you married?
Later that night we went to the Xuxa Show to promote the Mr. M Brazil Tour '99. As we arrive at the Globo studios in the stretch limo, I realize how big this really is. The muvuca (a whole bunch of people) goes crazy, they start flinging themselves on top of the limo, yelling screaming, trying to open the car doors, and this is only the second day. A phalanx of 50 security guards escorts us in and out of the studio. Mr. M's time on the Xuxa Show was magic. They danced together and he revealed his face to her on stage. After the press, the fofoca (gossip) started... What's up with Mr. M and Xuxa? Everyone wanted to know.
The next day Mr. M took a helicopter ride over the beautiful city of Rio. Sugarloaf, Maracanã, Corcovado were landmarks he said he would never forget. For those who have never been there, Rio is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. After the helicopter ride, we had a police-escorted motorcade down Ipanema and Copacabana beaches. The beaches looked as beautiful as ever and were filled with tanned bodies exercising, jogging, riding bikes, working out on the outdoor gym, or just laying on the beach.
Our motorcade ended at the Crianças de São Martinho orphanage, where Mr. M put on a special magic show for the kids. The faces of the kids lit up when Mr. M took to the stage. They were a great audience. I was touched when at the end of the show, a girl who couldn't have been more than 12 years of age asked Mr. M if he could do a magic trick and make her pregnant belly disappear. He told her that the gift of life she carried in her belly is the most important gift there is and that the children are the future of Brazil.
Later that night, we made an appearance at Xuxa's house for her daughter Sasha's birthday party. It was like going to one of the kingdoms in Disneyland. The compound even has a McDonald's in the backyard. She lives far from Copacabana and Ipanema. We drove for at least 45 minutes until we arrived at her gates. The fans went nuts when Mr. M exited from the limousine. I was thinking to myself, 'Elvis, the Beatles, Michael Jackson generate this kind of hysteria and I am in the middle of it making sure his security is taken care of.'
We took a golf cart ride up a windy road to her house. It was amazing. The place was rocking with lights, music, dancing, celebrities were everywhere. When we entered her house to wait for her to meet Mr. M, we were introduced to Simone (one of my favorite singers). At the party were Tiazinha, Carla Perez, Ivete Sangalo, Ronaldinho and Valeria Valenssa (Ms. Globeleza). Despite the vast number of high profile celebrities, Mr. M was the star of the party. Everyone wanted his autograph or the opportunity to take a photo with him. Mr. M never said no to anyone, he was always willing to sign that last autograph, or take an extra photo. It didn't matter if you were the president of a company or the maid in the hotel.
While in Rio we stayed at the Intercontinental Hotel in São Conrado. Within walking distance from the luxurious hotel was the massive favela (shantytown) known as Rocinha. Over 1 million people live there. I read that McDonald's is planning to build a restaurant there. That was one of the biggest changes I noticed in my five years away from Brazil. McDonald's restaurants are everywhere. I read in a Brazilian newspaper that after the government, McDonald's is the second largest employer in Brazil, with a workforce of over 33,000 people.
Our shows in Rio were at the Metropolitan in Barra. It is an enormous facility, seating over 5,000. Mr. M's nine shows were all sellouts. One of the things I will always remember about the Metropolitan is the kindness and the professionalism of its staff. From Pepe who runs it to Yolanda who did our sewing and ironing. She was a miracle worker. The whole staff was great.
Being associated with a magic show was a unique experience for me. I did whatever I could to make the show work, from repairing props, to offering suggestions on costumes, and lights. I am pleased to say that some of my ideas were used in the show. The hours were long, sometimes 14 to 16 hours when you include rehearsals, shows and after parties, but there was never a dull moment.
You can reach Steve Baiano at brazilsd@sd.znet.com