We were walking the streets of Rio de Janeiro yesterday when my daughter piped up “Hey, it’s Festa Junina!” I shook my head and tolld her Festa Junina was last month. She insisted and pointed to a street vendor whose stall was decorated with primary colored flags and a stereo blaring forro music. My kid was right. This vendor was still celebrating Festa Junina. My husband, a native of Rio, explained it this way. “Whatever the party, it always lasts a month longer in Rio.”
In that spirit, I thought a post about Festa Junina in July makes total sense.
Kiddo’s very first Festa Junina!
Festa Junina celebrations, which happen with varying degrees of enthusiasm throughout Brazil, can be traced back to the Pagan tradition of worshiping the summer solstice. The Catholic church then hijacked this festival by assigning June 24 to Saint John the Baptist, and Portugal brought traditional Saint John celebrations to Brazil during colonization.
This is me eating a sweet soup called Canjica. Basically, take corn, add condensed milk, cloves, and heat it up.
Over the centuries, many Festa Junina traditions and celebrations have become entirely secular and blended with other cultures and annual events that happen at this time in Brazil. For example, June is when the corn gets harvested, and about 97% of traditional Festa Junina food is corn based. Salty and sweet. Eaten off the cob and baked into cakes. In soups and as snacks. Seriously, I had no idea there were so many ways to prepare corn, and they’re all delicious.
While many places in Brazil celebrate Festa Junina on the night of June 23 with an official holiday on the 24th, in the Southeast where I’ve lived, Festa Junina parties happen any Friday or Saturday during the month of June. Or if you’re a university club in Rio, every Friday and Saturday in June.
There are fireworks, dancing, carnival games, straw hats and painted freckles (girls) or a painted moustache (boys), and usually at least one mock wedding. I haven’t read exactly how the mock weddings became a staple of Festa Junina parties, but I have a theory. Saint Anthony is considered the patron saint of marriage because he helps single women get husbands so many offerings and prayers are sent to Saint Anthony on his day, June 13. In addition to June being a time when marriage is on the brain, bringing the corn harvest to market was one of the few times people in rural areas got to meet someone they weren’t related to. Oh, and how convenient to have your wedding at the same time as the already scheduled festival! You can save tons on catering! Thus Festa Junina became a day of many weddings.
At my daughter’s school, it’s always Year 4 that stages a mass mock wedding, and this year it was finally her turn. That meant her Festa Junina costume was a wedding dress with a veil, and she LOVED it. It also meant extra time on stage because in addition to the mock wedding, all grade levels perform a quadrilha, a traditional dance done during Festa Junina but with preschoolers is really just a lot of jumping and arm waving.
In my personal opinion, the best part about Festa Junina is the food, but I feel that way about all carnivals and festivals. Any event that has portable grills and homemade sweets being set up on folding tables arranged around ring toss and fishing games is something I’d be delighted to attend.
Even the teachers dress up!When not performing mock weddings, Tio Rafa can be found coaching soccer.Is there a culture that doesn’t have fishing games at festivals?The grooms waiting for the brides to arrive
One bride is always brought in riding in a wheelbarrow. I have no idea why, but it’s super cute.
At the summer games this year in Rio de Janeiro, fans of 41 different sports will have a chance to watch competition between the best athletes in their sport. The world’s best judokas, golfers, divers, bmx cyclists, track cyclists, mountain cyclists (I had no idea there were so many different ways to cycle), trampoline jumpers, and fencers will be here in Brazil competing for gold. To be completely honest, I’m not sure what the modern pentathloners will be doing exactly, but I’m sure it’s something that I cannot.
Despite the wide variety of sports included in the Olympics, one of the most popular sports in Brazil will not be a part of the games, Capoeira.
Capoeira is a martial art that developed in Brazil in the 16th century. At least scholars believe that’s when it began. There are very few records of the earliest iterations of capoeira because it was developed by Africans transported to Brazil as slaves who used it as a means of both self-defense and cultural preservation. For most of Brazil’s history capoeira was outlawed and practiced in secret. It wasn’t until the 1940s that all official bans on capoeira were lifted, and the government acknowledged capoeira as part of Brazil’s cultural heritage.
I called capoeira a martial art, but I used the term for lack of anything better. Some people refer to it as a dance, and others call it a game. It’s a link to history and a legacy. Capoeira is all of these.
“Negroes fighting, Brazil” c. 1824. Painting by Augustus Earle depicting an illegal capoeira-like game in Rio de Janeiro
The majority of people brought as slaves to Brazil came from West Africa, hence the style of capoeira known as Angola. Slaves were not allowed to continue cultural practices from home and could not practice any activity that could be used in self-defense. Capoeira combined drum rhythms and instruments from a variety of West African cultures and set the powerful spinning kicks and acrobatics to music. Practitioners could claim capoeira wasn’t an attack. It was a dance. Even today, capoeira is always practiced to music and song.
Capoeira expanded in Brazil during the 17th century through communities of escaped slaves known as quilombos. The largest quilombo, Palmares, was home to over 10,000 people. The quilombos were havens of freedom for former slaves and many mounted fierce resistance against the Portuguese. There are few remaining records about life in the quilombos, but historians believe that capoeira was an important part of the communities’ defense.
Portuguese and later Brazilian officials were so frightened by capoeira they outlawed any and everything related to the game. People were arrested for playing capoeira instruments, wearing the colored belts and white pants, or just whistling a capoeira song. Finally, in the 1930’s Mestre Bimba from Salvador convinced the government that capoeira was both an important cultural legacy for Brazil and (because governments respond well to financial incentives) a tourist draw. In 1937, he was allowed to open the first public and officially sanctioned capoeira school in Brazil.
Mestre Bimba developed a new style of capoeira drawing moves from jiu-jitsu, boxing, and batuque, a martial art brought from Africa practiced in the state of Bahia. Mestre Bimba’s style of capoeira became known as Regional. The original style of capoeira, Angola, is characterized by a slower style of play, with lots of low kicks, while the players stay close together. Mestre Bimba’s style of Regional is played much more quickly with more aerial acrobatics. If the capoeiristas you’re watching are doing crazy fast spin and flip kicks that make your mouth fall open, that’s Regional.
While the styles vary in speed and types of movement, both keep the same format and traditions for practicing. Capoeira is always played inside a circle of musicians, singers, other players, and spectators. The music of capoeira is performed on five instruments: berimbau, pandeiro, atabaque, agogô, and reco-reco. The musicians and singer perform continuously as players tag in and out of the circle. One more important fact! Players never actually strike each other while playing. They feint and dodge and kick, but they never land a blow. That’s why the verb “play” is used for capoeira. They’re playing, not fighting.
Last year a petition went around Brazil lobbying for inclusion of capoeira in the Olympics. Many of the most famous mestres were and are against its inclusion. They argued that capoeira is not a sport. There are no winners and losers and to change that would be to change the nature of capoeira, which focuses on community, preserving heritage, fitness, and fun.
Whether a sport, a martial art or a dance, capoeira today is practiced by men and women, kids of all ages, from everywhere in the world. The petition for Olympic inclusion failed, which means no official capoeira exhibition at the 2016 Rio Games, but without doubt there will be opportunities for visitors to watch, whether on beach or in a park square. If you happen to be in Brazil for the Olympics or if you ever happen to hear the tang tang of a berimbau, do yourself a favor and go watch. You’ll get to see impressive athletics, hear great music, and learn a bit of Brazilian history all at the same time.
If you love the Olympics, learning about world cultures, or both, check out the amazing Multicultural Kids Blog!
Today’s recommendation for MKB’s Read Around the World Series is an illustrated excerpt from one of Brazil’s most famous children’s author, Monteiro Lobato.
There’s so much bad news coming out of Brazil lately. The economy is still in tatters. The president is impeached. The interim president is according to most sources a mysogynist, corrupt pig. (And those are the nice names people are using for him.) Any waterbased Olympic events will require the athletes to wear hazmat suits. Zika.
I feel bad for Brazil. She’s like a good friend that’s going through a majorly shitty time in her life. When you have a friend struggling, you try to tell her it’s not all her fault. (#blameportugal) You try to look at her situation analytically. (In Brazil’s case that might make your head explode.) And finally you find the silver lining. Which in Brazil’s case is…Hold on…Give me a minute…
The weather! Brazil, you have amazing weather. And vacation spots. And fruit. Oh, something man-made? Uh…
Snack food. Brazilians have nailed snack food in a way superior to any country I’ve ever lived in. Brazil has upped the snacking game to a point it’s an independent category of food. Look in a Brazilian cookbook and it’s possible to find, main courses, sides, desserts, and salgados.
I’ve been asked by students how to translate salgados into English. You can’t. The best I’ve come up with is “a variety of salty, heavy snack foods that can be either fried or baked and are usually eaten individually as between meal snacks or in miniature forms at parties.” If anyone can suggest a single word in English to convey, please let me know, but I don’t think there is one. And hors d’oeuvre doesn’t cut it. A full-sized salgado is easily a meal in itself. A coffee and coxinha will set you up for hours.
Here’s a rundown on the typical salgados you’ll find in Brazil. I have a broad definition of salgado (see above), and I’m sure a few Brazilian purists will take issue with some of the food I’ve included on my list. Also, I’m sure I’ve forgotten some traditional favorites as well. My apologies.
Pão de quiejo…nom,nom,nom
Pão de Queijo: I’m putting this first because it is one of my absolute favorite things about Brazil. Yup, of all things that come from Brazil, my husband, my daughter, and pão de queijo are my favorites. This is a ball of cheesy, doughy deliciousness that can be served at breakfast, with afternoon coffee, or on party platters. Pão de quiejo can range in size from golf-ball to grown man’s fist, but when it comes to pão de queijo, bigger is always better. Trust me.
It’s important to observe local customs when abroad. Pasteis and caipirinha.
Pastel: A light pastry dough that is stuffed with deliciousness, folded over, and fried. Like pão de qeuijo, pastéis (plural form) can come the size of your palm of the size of your face. Shaped like a half circle or rectangle, the traditional fillings include ground beef, palm heart, mozzarella, shrimp, a kind of cream cheese, and chicken. They are delicious at ten in the morning with sugar cane juice or at seven at night with a caipirinha. I suspect they’re delicious at every hour of the day.
Empanadas go very well with lattes.
Empanada: Ok, this is one of the debatable entries because many people/sites equate empanada (a Spanish dish) and pastel (the Brazilian version). I’ll grant the overall concept is the same. Dough folded around a filling usually shaped in a half circle. But based on my personal experience with snack food in Brazil (which is fairly extensive I’m proud to say), the empanada and pastel are different things here primarily because of the dough. The empanada dough is thicker and not as flaky as the pastel. Also, empanadas seem to be baked whereas pastéis seem to be fried. Am I totally wrong about this? Are they the same? Am I the only one who cares? Also, don’t confuse an empanada with an…
Empada: Again dough, filling, baked, but the empada is more like a pie or casserole. The dough is much thicker and tends to become sticky when wet thus gluing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It’s one of my least favorite salgados for this reason.
Kibe is yummy!
Kibe: An import from the Middle East and North Africa and a staple of party platters everywhere in Brazil. It mixes flour and ground beef into a football (oh, American football) shaped snacking delight. Sometimes there’s a cream cheese filling, but that’s only done if you hate your guests.
So it’s shaped like Picasso’s version of a chicken leg.
Coxinha: As far as I know, this is the only salgado with an origin story. A son of Princess Isabel (the last royal in charge of Brazil) would only eat chicken legs (even royal kids are brats about food). One day the kitchen was out chicken legs so the chef shredded chicken meat and put it inside a flour dough crust shaped like a drumstick. The little prince approved and now coxinhas are served in miniature at every children’s party. You can get them at pretty much any cafe or bakery. Coxinha is the heaviest item on the list, especially if there’s cream cheese in the center of the chicken filling. It’s like snacking on a small cannonball. A very delicious cannonball.
Açaí. It’s pronounced like an “s” people. No hard “c” here.
Juices, Açaí bowls, quiches, etc: I know juice and açaí don’t count as salgados. They are however staples of the Brazilian snacking experience. When my cousin visited Rio, we did a juice crawl through Ipanema. She tried fruits that the staff cringed from. In the heat of Brazil, nothing beats a bowl of cold açaí covered in bananas and strawberries. And of course cafes always have a variety of quiches and cakes to choose from.
Brazil is a great country for snacking. They have great coffee for the daytime, great caipirinhas for the nighttime and plenty of savory goodies for anytime. I just recommend a gym membership if you’re going to be staying any length time of here.
I’m currently obsessed with an idea for a historical fiction novel and have spent the last week devouring books on colonial Brazil. (I know you’re jealous.) It’s been fascinating reading actually because it’s all entirely new history for me. It wasn’t until World History in high school that I even knew humans existed outside of Europe, and by “Europe” I mean Italy, France, and Britain with a brief stop in Germany for the Reformation. Any ideas I have about Portugal or South America I learned from Columbus Day themed picture books and Disney’s Emperor’s New Groove.
Turns out the Portuguese did more than just finance Columbus. They dominated maritime exploration in the 15th century, and that’s how little Portugal ended up with the enormous colony of Brazil. After a week of research, I now understand the root of all of Brazil’s problems. Portugal.
Everything is Portugal’s fault.
Let’s take education. Brazil does not have a single university in anybody’s top 100 Schools in World list. I recently read an article that could be summed up as “Brazilian have started buying books!” I can’t remember that last time I went to the beach and saw someone reading a book and I’m at the beach almost every weekend. Which makes perfect sense in a country that had printing presses, books, and universities banned for the first 300 years of its existence.
Yes, Portugal controlled Brazil for 300 years before it allowed a university to be built or a printing press to operate. Put another way, book circulation was banned for a century longer than it’s been legal in Brazil. Thanks Portugal!
Do you think Brazil’s government is a quagmire of ineffective bureaucracy staffed by people who are allergic to work? When the Portuguese court fled Napoleon and established itself in Rio de Janeiro, it brought between 10,000 and 15,000 people. When John Adams moved the US government from Philadelphia to Washington D.C., he moved 1,000 employees. And all those 10,000 people who came with the court expected a stipend from the government. Today, public pensions are currently bankrupting Brazil. Thanks Portugal!
Brazil is currently hosting a global event. No, not the Olympics. I’m talking about the largest corruption scheme in the history of democracy, the Lava Jato case in which federal politicians awarded contracts and got kickbacks to the tune of billions of dollars.
It’s actually totally understandable that Congressmen and their friends all expected rewards. When Prince Regent João showed up in Rio, the crown was flat broke, so he just started selling titles to wealthy Brazilian merchants. Prince João gave out more titles in eight years than his ancestors had in the previous three centuries. You get to be a Baron! And you get to be a Baron! And you get to be a Baron! (This is assuming you’d like to make a donation to the Court, of course.) Those of us at the top have to get each others’ backs, amiright? It’s Brazilian tradition. Thanks, Portugal!
I’ve wondered since arriving back in 2006 why the fifth largest country in the world in terms of land area seems to use two lanes roads almost exclusively. Why? Why am I sharing a single lane between states with all the 18-wheeled trucks? Because it was illegal to build roads between states until after João and his court arrived in 1808, 300 years after the Portuguese took control of the territory. And factories weren’t allowed. So no industrialization. Which means no trains. Thanks, Portugal!
I’ve learned all this from 1808 The Flight of the Emperor by Laurentino Gomes. It’s an engrossing telling of an unbelievable true story. One of the most striking accounts of colonial Brazil was from a woman, Maria Graham, arriving in Brazil for the first time. As her ship sailed up, she gushed over the picturesque city of Salvador with it’s beautiful white homes and striking setting on a cliffside. She called it “a city, magnificent in appearance from the sea.” Her opinion changed dramatically once walking the streets of the city. She describes Salvador as no less than “the filthiest place I ever was in.”
19th century Salvador by Joseph Alfred Martinet
While I did not consider Rio anywhere close to the filthiest place I’ve ever been (I lived in a coed dorm in college), I did go through the exact same swing in emotions when first arriving in Brazil. Looking out the plane window, I was in awe of Rio’s beauty. Then I left the airport. The view out the car window was…disappointing in comparison.
Two hundred years separates Graham’s arrival and mine, yet our reactions were nearly identical. Culture is a powerful yet often unconscious shaper of our behavior. I have a university degree in this. I shouldn’t need a reminder, but this book was just that. Now, I understand. The next time I have to argue about whether the phrase “copy of your passport” means just the information page or all pages in the book, or I bounce along a road filled with potholes but with wifi coverage, or I read about another politician who’s been suspended due to a corruption scandal, I’m not blaming Brazil. I’m blaming Portugal.
Because it’s all Portugal’s fault (#blameportugal). And they didn’t even leave a legacy of good wine. Thanks a lot, Portugal.
I’m sure you heard about the impeachment vote even if you live outside of Brazil and aren’t following international politics. You might also have seen a headline about a corruption scandal in Brazil involving billions of dollars in public funds. Maybe you’ve read something about Brazil’s collapsing economy. The country’s gotten a lot of headlines in the last few months and a person could understandably be wondering, “What the hell is going on in Brazil?”
Here’s what’s going on in Brazil with enough context to paint a painfully vivid picture and enough jokes to make it palatable. To understand the extent of the seething rage under Brazilians’ normally chill exteriors, I need to jump back in time three decades.
Brazil is a relatively young democracy. The army seized control in 1964 and stayed in power until the mid-80s. The generals perfectly followed every page of the Military-Dictator Handbook, repressing speech, organizing, and all social rights. By 1980 student, workers, and militants were pushing back, and that year there were massive strikes organized, among others, by a young Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva aka Lula. Remember him. He’ll show up again. And again. And again until it becomes painfully ironic.
The strikes and protests helped lead to a “redemocratization” and a new constitution was adopted on October 5, 1988, making Brazil’s current government younger than I am.
The National Congress in Brasilia, currently hosting many future inmates.
The Constitution divided the Federal Government into three parts just like in the US: Legislative, Executive, and Judicial. Differently than the US, both the Executive branch and the Federal Government in general are much more powerful than in the US. Don’t be fooled by the constant use of flip-flops and nicknames in Brazil. The country is extremely hierarchical. It’s a cultural legacy brought to Brazil by Portugal’s policy of ruling colonies by refusing to build universities or even roads in order to keep people in total subjugation.
The current constitution reflects this deeply embedded hierarchy by giving certain powers and privileges to members of the federal government. For example, members of Congress, cabinet ministers, and the President can only be investigated and tried by the Supreme Court. Currently 303 members of Congress are facing criminal charges or under investigation, so the Justices must be pretty busy. At least the President of the Supreme Court gets the perk of being fifth in line to assume the presidency in the event of a political disaster.
Speaking of which, Dilma’s impeachment is actually the second impeachment of Brazil’s young republic. They impeached the guy back in ’92, but given the awful state of Brazil’s economy then, a presidential impeachment probably barely made the front page. The economic situation in Brazil throughout the 80s and early 90s was terrible. Like invest in precious metals because the country is on its third currency bad. The inflation rates looked more like typos than real data. People ran to the grocery store on payday snatching items off the shelves before the clerk could put a new price sticker on it.
During these turbulent early years of the republic, the Worker’s Party, (known as PT) which got started during the strikes in 1980, was the leader of the opposition coalition in Brazil.
Embracing its roots as the voice of the working classes, PT fought against the deeply entrenched economic elite and policies that facilitated a huge wealth gap. Lula ran for president as the PT candidate four times before finally winning in 2002. You only fail when you quit, right? At this point the economy had stabilized. Lula initiated some social welfare programs that lifted millions out of poverty. China began buying everything that Brazil could produce. The economy took off. By 2006 developed countries were like “Hey Brazil, when did you guys show up to the party? We gave your chair to India a few years ago, but we can ask for it back.”
An Economist cover from 2009
For the first time in 20 years, Brazil had a growing economy and stable government. In 2011 Brazil passed the United Kingdom to become the 6th largest economy in the world. Brazilians were pumped, proud, and ready to finally take their place as a global power.
All this history is to give you some idea of the soul-crushing societal let down that happened when the shit hit the fan in 2014.
From a growth rate of 7.5% in 2010, Brazil’s economy shrank 3.8% in 2015. Today, Brazil is the 9th largest economy behind Italy, which has a fraction of the people and arable land. Unemployment is 8.2% and inflation is 9.4%, compared the government’s target rate of 4.5%. All those numbers are just to say that the country’s in its second year of recession and people are pissed.
At the same time that Brazil’s economy was headed down the toilet, the largest corruption scandal in any democratic country ever was uncovered. Now is the time for popcorn because this story makes House of Cards seem small time and easy to follow.
Back in the 90s, there was a humble money launderer who made a decent living hiding illegal income of politicians. He was arrested, convicted, served his time, and released. By the mid 00s, federal police noticed he was back in business. Apparently in Brazil, money launderers are like great Mexican restaurants. They’re rare and if you find one, you keep going back even if you know deep down it’s probably being investigated by public authorities.
From 2004-2014 political leaders through the state owned oil company, Petrobras, awarded contracts to companies that grossly overcharged the government, and the companies used some of that excess payment to say “thank you” to congressmen and party leaders for awarding them the contracts in the first place. Nothing shows appreciation like a stack of cold hard cash.
And what party was in control of Congress and the Executive at this time? PT and its coalition partners. The Worker’s Party. The party that built it’s reputation on fighting for working class citizens against the privileged elite was the driving force behind the largest theft of taxpayer’s money in the history of democracy. (I told you Lula’s story got ironic.)
Foto Oficial Presidenta Dilma Rousseff. Foto: Roberto Stuckert Filho.
PT is also President Dilma’s party.
Back in 2015 when the investigation really took off, Dilma had NOT been implicated in the investigation. Everyone around was. PT’s treasurer is currently in jail. Lula’s former chief of staff is there too. Lula himself was under investigation. But not Dilma.
She didn’t have a clue Petrobras was overpaying by billions of dollars and was the worst chairperson in history.
All possibilities made Dilma look bad. Her approval rating plummeted to 13% only 3 months after her second inauguration in 2015.
And a cover from 2015
So to recap, by July of 2015 Brazil was grappling with shattered expectations, a terrible economy, an epic corruption scandal, and a universally disliked president. The Brazilian people were understandably furious at the government for blowing the country’s best chance in a century to really improve quality of life and become a global player.
However, none of these things is grounds for impeachment. According to the Constitution, a president can only be impeached for committing a crime while in office.
So how did Dilma end up getting impeached? We’re stepping into the political muck now. Put your boots on.
October 7, 2015 The Federal Accounting Tribunal files for impeachment accused Dilma of fiscal pedaling in 2014. They claim Dilma forced the state controlled bank to make social programs payments from the bank’s own funds because the government was short on money and her administration was trying to hide that fact during an election year. Technically, the federal government cannot payoff its own debts with the bank’s funds, but it’s been done by every president. It’s very shaky legal ground, like a frozen pond in spring during an earthquake shaky.
December 17, 2015 The Supreme Court defines the impeachment process because the Chamber of Deputies can’t get its act together and form a commission of 65 deputies to consider the charges with any semblance of openness and fairness. The Court rejects two commissions formed by the Chamber, and the proceedings are paused indefinitely.
March 11 In a jaw-dropping move, prosecutors ask for preventive detention for Lula. Lula supporters clashed with police when he was being taken for questioning. There is no doubt an actual arrest would spark violence.
March 14 In what has to be the most blatant middle-finger giving from a democratically elected president, President Dilma doubles down and starts discussing appointing Lula for a cabinet position! F.U. anti-government protestors! Dilma wants to make Lula Ministro de Casa Civil, the chief administrator for the Executive and the most powerful person after the president. Oh, and remember that members of the federal government can only be investigated by the Supreme Court, so the case against Lula would be moved away from the prosecutors currently investigating him. But it’s for the good of Brazil, guys!
March 15 Plea-deal testimony from Senator Delcídio do Amaral, the head of PT in the senate, is released and he testifies that Dilma’s Education Minister offered him a bribe in exchange for not working with prosecutors. He also says that President Dilma knew all about the corruption happening at Petrobras during her time as chairwoman. I can finally fill in my Dilma square on my Lava Jato Bingo card!
How convenient for future casting directors that Moro is an attractive man in real life.
March 16 Judge Sergio Moro, in charge of the Lava Jato case, releases a recording of a call between President Dilma and Lula revealing 1) that prosecutors had tapped a former president’s phone! and 2) Dilma seems to be appointing Lula only to keep him out of jail. While everyone freaked out over the phone call, a few did question if Judge Moro should have given up completely on judicial impartiality and released recordings in an ongoing investigation from a tap with a just-expired warrant.
March 17 Lula is sworn in as Minister. A new impeachment commission is sworn in. Basically, a lot of swearing happened in Brazil this day.
March 18 Supreme Court Justice Gilmar Mendes suspends Lula’s appointment on the grounds it was a blatant attempt to keep him from going to jail. Justice Mendes said it with more legal jargon but that was the gist of his decision. Also, large protests happen across Brazil against impeachment.
Can we say “future political career”?
March 22 The Supreme Court removes Judge Moro from Lula’s case to review his decision to release the recorded conversation. The Supreme Court will now oversee the investigation against Lula. Oh well, he can console himself with the fact people are wearing his face on t-shirts.
March 29 PMDB, the largest party in PT’s coalition, drops out and pledges to support Dilma’s impeachment. PMDB is also the party of Vice President Michel Temer, so things got super awkward at the Presidential Palace.
April 11 The Commission to the consider Dilma’s impeachment votes 38-27 in favor of impeachment. The question will now be to a vote by the Full House of Deputies. Fun Fact: Of the 65 members on the Impeachment Commission, 37 are facing criminal charges themselves. I think the vote concluded with a Deputy ironically shouting “If we burn, you burn with us!”
April 13 President Dilma publicly accuses Vice President Temer of conspiring against her.
April 17 The House of Deputies votes 367 – 137 in favor of impeachment, more than securing the two-thirds majority needed to pass.
And that brings us to today. The Senate has until May 11 to vote on the issue and simple majority is enough to suspend Dilma and start a trial.
A lot of people celebrated after the impeachment, but despite the anger and disappointment with Dilma’s administration support for impeachment is at 61%. A majority but not the super majority you might expect given Dilma’s 10% approval rating.
Ideally, the only question would be “Did Dilma commit a crime by using state bank funds to make government payments?” and a trial in the Senate would answer that question. Of course, nothing happening in Brazil at the moment is ideal except maybe for vendors of inflatable Lula dolls in prison stripes.
The reason many people have no faith in the current government but don’t support impeachment is because everyone else in line to be president is way WORSE than Dilma. Let’s go through the line of succession.
Temer during the impeachment vote. He seems very cheerful. He’d probably manage to stay positive while stabbing you in the back.
Third in line for president is the Senate leader, Renan Calheiros, who is also under investigation for corruption. Among the seven charges the Supreme Court is considering against him are accepting $600,000 to stop a Senate probe into the Lava Jato case and receiving $1.7 million in bribes for a drilling contract.
I think there’s one maid working at the Presidential Palace who isn’t likely to be in jail within the year. Maybe they could offer her the job?
Brazilians are facing a very tough choice in deciding between pro and anti impeachment. Did President Dilma commit a crime worthy of losing office and even if she did…do we give power to lying, hypocritical assholes? Who do you pick when everyone is a criminal?
Some commentators say Brazilians are being duped by a media controlled by that historically entrenched elite. They argue leaders pushing for impeachment are far more corrupt and will hault the Lava Jato once back in power. While it’s true the media here is extremely conservative both politically and socially, I think it’s a pretty patronizing view of the Brazilian people to think more than 60% of the country has been fooled by a handful of smarmy, rich guys. First, Dilma’s government did engage in some shady accounting and as for the Lava Jato case, she’s either guilty or incredibly incompetent. Nobody’s impeaching a saint. Second, from what I personally have seen and read from those in favor of impeachment believe removing Dilma is only the first step, not the last, in rooting out corruption in the government.
Still, it seems unlikely Congress is going to keep impeaching presidents until they get to the President of the Supreme Court, so removing Dilma just puts someone as guilty but more conservative in power who’s likely to stay there. For those against the impeachment, there’s nothing but a line of criminally indicted men from the economic elite pushing Dilma off a cliff. And she’s not even being impeached due to corruption. She’s being impeached for dubious accounting and to those against impeachment, it’s a purely political move.
Enough corruption!
One thing is absolutely clear, no one in Brasilia is removing themselves power. The only thing they all agree on is that they did nothing wrong. If this were Japan, a third of Congress would have committed suicide by now, but alas we’re in Brazil and once elected to office a person becomes immune to shame. They used to be immune from consequences too, but that seems to be finally changing. That’s one thing, at least, Brazilians can be proud of.
It’s been more than difficult finding time to write this post. My husband is away on a networking trip while Kiddo’s in the middle of summer vacation. That puts me on twenty-four hours a day parent duty. I’d probably be a little more frustrated if I didn’t know these networking trips of his were going to start tapering off.
You see my husband’s getting older, and in the spirit of honesty, it’s obvious. He’s getting more wrinkles and creases, but it’s the gray hair that’s really noticeable. My husband has black hair which has gone from lightly dusted to preserved cod salty in the last few years. Of course getting older isn’t a problem per se. He just could look a lot younger if he wanted to.
With all that gray hair, he’s not going to be tapped for any promotion. The quality of his work is going to become less obvious as people start focusing on his whiter hair. I’m sure the university he teaches for is going to want someone a little…fresher to represent them at conferences. I’m afraid it’s going to affect his student evaluations. Those undergrads are going to look at him and think his complete apathy about his appearance clearly indicates a certain indifference toward everything including class planning.
I’m also worried it’s going to affect his social life. He hasn’t said anything, but I think some of his friends have stopped calling. I feel terrible for him, but I can’t blame them. By not coloring his hair, he’s basically throwing his mortality in the face of everyone around him. Who wants to sit next to Mr. Death-is-Inevitable at the dinner party? That’s kind of a bummer.
Of course, it’s going to be harder to make new friends. Everyone says they don’t judge people by appearances, but let’s be honest. We all check a person’s roots before striking up a conversation.
I’ve made subtle comments about the gray hoping he’ll take some interest in his appearance and stop letting himself go. I realize I’m never going to talk him into botox or skin peels, but if he would just invest a little in himself, I think he’d really perk up and be more confident in all areas of his life. It feels like he doesn’t love himself anymore. When he looks in the mirror, he doesn’t see the incredibly handsome man I see. That’s why I want him to dye his hair. I think he would feel more handsome if he would just get rid of the gray.
Watching my husband deal with getting older has made me glad I’m a woman. I’ve been going gray since my early twenties. If had to hide my white hair, at the rate my hair grows…ugh, I’d have spent a small fortune on salon appointments. Fortunately, I’m not a man, and I don’t have to work at making everyone think I’m at least a decade younger than my actual age to be happy with my appearance.
Actually, women don’t really talk about our age that much. Now that I think about it, I’m not even sure I know exactly how old my best buddies are. We’re usually too busy talking about politics, whether or not to refinance our houses, the cost of health care. And sports. I swear my friends and I still don’t get through one round of drinks before someone references Lloyd’s hat trick in the World Cup final. Why would age even come up?
I hope my husband knows that I’ll love him no matter how old he gets and what he looks like. I hope he knows how handsome he is. Gray hair and all.
This of course is a piece of comedy. Although I have, in fact, been going gray since my early twenties. Unfortunately, I have spent a small fortune on trips to the salon. I had coloring my hair in the same category as bathing, an essential and basic part of my self-care routine. But in the last year, afternoons to myself for writing were in short supply. I didn’t want to give up a whole afternoon to painting my hair, so I let my hair grow and grow and eventually ended up with a couple inches of gray hair at my temples.
No, that’s not a lighting effect. That’s four months of hair growth highlighting my temple.
And life’s pretty much the same. It turns out coloring hair is a choice. One my salt-and-pepper headed husband chooses not to pursue without comment or consequence. I’m going to opt out too from now on. I’m not promising to never color my hair again. But for now, there are other things I’d rather do with my time and money. Will you still invite me over for dinner?
The wind gusted by, and my nose was numb by the time we crossed from the parking lot and entered the Visitor’s Center at the Martin Luther King Jr. Historic Site. It was a little unfortunate my step-mom and I had picked the coldest day in weeks to visit because the MLK Historic Site is a collection of buildings up and down the block where Dr. King’s childhood home and church are located. The facilities required walking. The weather required a hat.
While peeling my gloves off in the Visitor’s Center, a helpful ranger told us that guided tours of Dr. King’s birth home are available for free but they’re first come first serve and you have to reserve tickets. Unfortunately for us, the next tour wasn’t until noon, and we had to move on before then. There was still the Visitor Center, the Tombs, exhibits from the life of Dr. and Mrs. King at Freedom Hall, as well as Historic Ebeneezer Baptist Church where Dr. King served as co-pastor with his father. More than enough to fill a Sunday morning.
Passing through twelve years of metro-Atlanta public schools, I’d learned about Dr. King and the Civil Rights movement extensively. To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t expecting to learn anything new during my visit. It would be interesting to see the buildings where Dr. King actually lived but the information would be a refresher course.
I stepped into the first stage of the Visitor Center’s overview of King’s life: Segregation. Photos, panels, and video explained the explicitly and brutally divided world Martin grew up in. On the video screen I watched footage of a young girl, book bag in hand, enter her school escorted by Federal marshals. The girl is Ruby Bridges, the first African-American student to attend an integrated elementary school in Louisiana. Well, integrated isn’t quite accurate. Bridges was the only African-American student in an all-white school.
I’d watched the footage before, but never as a mother.
This time I saw a little girl with a bow in her hair, not much taller than my own daughter, walk alone into her school. No friends, no teachers. Only four armed Federal Marshals protecting her. She barely cleared the waist of the men around her. Ruby was six years old that day. My eyes filled with tears, and I ducked my head to keep anyone from noticing.
I left the images of children berated and under armed escort and moved on to the section on Dr. King’s early activism. His first role of national significance came when he helped organize the Montgomery Bus Boycott in the wake of Rosa Park’s arrest. It was 1955. Dr. King was twenty-six.
I’d moved on from Ruby in hopes of being on more palatable ground of grown-ups being horrendous to other grown-ups, but I was staring at the face of a person whom, if I met over coffee, I would tease and welcome into adulthood. How’s that whole responsibility thing going? When I looked at the photo of Dr. King handcuffed and bent over a police desk, I didn’t see a great man. I saw a very young man.
I scanned the other photos. A group of non-violent protesters at a sit-in. Freedom riders. Marchers with their arms linked. Dr. King attending a leadership meeting of the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee. There it was in the name: Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee. The walls were covered with pictures of kids and young people. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty year-olds. College kids were the driving force of the Civil Rights movement. Seeing the Civil Rights Movement from the perspective of an adult older than most of its leaders were at the time shocked me.
I’d learned about Dr. King and other leaders, John Lewis, Julian Bond, Andrew Young through the eyes of a child. I’d been told they were great men, and to a ten-year old, the footage and photos showed established adults. One grown-up is equal to any other grown-up. Anyone who has reached adulthood knows this couldn’t be farther from the truth.
As I wandered through the Visitor Center, King’s church, and the other buildings, the entire site became a testament to the power of young people. Kids, teens, college students and freshly minted men and women in their twenties acted on their beliefs that the world could change and could be made better. They refused to accept the world they were about to inherit.
It seems to be a favorite past time of adults to complain about the youth. There is certainly no shortage of criticism being hurled currently at young people with their selfie taking smart phones. But I did learn something during my visit to King Center. Never underestimate youth. Young people have the power of infinite possibility. Their vision hasn’t been narrowed by time. Martin Luther King Jr. did not imagine himself on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial when he called on his congregation to boycott the buses. With his twenty-six years, he imagined a more just world and acted to make it so.
The quote on Dr. King’s tomb is “Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty I’m Free at last.” The dates are 1929-1968. He was thirty-nine when assassinated, a young & great man.
This post is part of an amazing series on Martin Luther King Jr. being hosted by Multicultural Kids Blog. Check out the link for fabulous educational activities and international perspectives on the legacy of Dr. King.
Having spent the majority of my adult life outside of the United States (mostly in small, homogeneous cities), I’ve gotten used to being the subject of conversation at the next table over. It happens pretty frequently in Vitoria. My husband and I speak in English so people assume I don’t understand their Portuguese freeing them to openly discuss me from two feet away. It happens most frequently with kids and teens, but a surprising number of adults don’t seem to realize that a person could understand both English and Portuguese. In Vitoria, we expats are like endangered wildlife. People know we’re around, but when actually spotted, locals take note.
I don’t mind. Until visitors arrive from another planet, one from another continent is about as alien as it gets for most people in Vitoria. I signed up for the attention when I decided to become an expat.
But my daughter didn’t.
A series of encounters at the park Sunday has, for the first time, made me consider my daughter’s multiculturalism a challenge, a thing she’ll have to learn to deal with.
It also has me weighing the importance of three influences on my daughter’s behavior: my parenting instincts v. my daughter’s personality v. the culture she is growing up in. I’m now asking which of these should win out in the event they’re incompatible.
Here’s what happened.
We arrived at the park just as a craft was beginning and hurried to the classroom. As materials were being handed out, one of the helpers overheard me speaking English and asked where we’re from. I answered, heard about how he’s going to Disney World soon, and then got the VIP crafting upgrade, as he hovered over my shoulder for the duration of the activity asking repeatedly (in English) if my daughter needed help. He was pleasant and wanted to practice his English. No problem.
Then we moved to the playground and while my daughter, the baby dragon, sought refuge in a playhouse from me, the evil sorceress, a girl and boy asked what language we were speaking. I answered, their eyes widened, and they ran off. A few minutes later they were back with more friends who all crowded into the playhouse to stare at my four-year-old, English speaker. My daughter tried to play with them in Portuguese, but the older girl turned to her friends and asked, “Who wants to learn English?” My daughter was not interested in playing teacher when there was sorceress to escape from, so she turned her back on them. They were kids and curious. Ok.
The most bizarre exchange happened as my daughter and I were waiting for my husband to bring the car. We were sword fighting with sticks, so I have no idea what these people heard exactly. “Argh!” “Ah, my leg! I’m bleeding!” But whatever they heard prompted the man to turn to his friend and say “Uma italiana!” I know I opened the door to this exchange by correcting him, but I can’t live in a world where people hear an English speaking American and think Italian.
I smiled and told him “Sou americana.” Their minds were blown. The woman nearly doubled-over laughing and the man’s eyes bugged out as if this was the first time either of them had considered the possibility of a person speaking more than one language. If I had turned invisible, I think they would have been less surprised. The woman sat down on the bench next to my daughter, and the two of them began peppering us with questions, the most notable one being “So you speak Portuguese & French?” They quickly zeroed in on my daughter and began directing their questions to her, clearly not believing she speaks Portuguese and is, in fact, Brazilian. When they asked her for her name, I stiffened. When they asked her for her daddy’s name, I cut them off, said “ciao” and in their wake, made it explicitly clear she was never to give her name or mommy’s or daddy’s name to anyone other than a police officer. The couple hadn’t meant but did cross a line when they asked for personal information from my kid.
My daughter’s final audience of the day came at the end of lunch. She and I were walking back to our table with a much-anticipated chocolate popsicle, and the table next to us began exclaiming to my husband. “Nossa que olhos lindas! Uma loirinha linda!” My daughter has blond hair and blue eyes, the genetic jackpot in Brazil. The entire family at the next table gushed compliments, while my husband played along and joked it was a good thing she took after her mom.
This all happened within two hours. Nothing was said or done out of malice. The people’s motivation ranged from innocent curiosity to sincere appreciation with a heavy dash of racism. Everything interaction was typical. Brazilian culture is open and friendly and community oriented. Strangers talk to each other here. It’s like being in South Georgia without the gnats and shotguns.
But my daughter doesn’t want an audience. My husband and have noticed it. Her teachers noted it in her school report. When the group of kids crowded around my daughter asking her to speak in English, she went silent. When the geographically challenged couple asked for her name, she clutched my arm and hid her face. My daughter doesn’t like being put on the spot. And that is exactly what every stranger who asks her to demonstrate her Portuguese or English is doing. When strangers stare at my daughter, they turn her into a spectacle no matter their intentions.
So what to do about it?
My husband immediately suggested we stop speaking English outside of the apartment. This would eliminate having to always explain that my kid is Brazilian and hearing about people’s Disney vacations, but I’m against it. My daughter is immersed in Portuguese Monday through Friday all day long at school. She needs as much English as possible on the weekend. We’d also limit her English vocabulary to the world of our apartment.
My gut reaction is to tell the spectators, politely but firmly, to go away. I’ll explain that my daughter is shy and since she is Brazilian, we don’t want her to feel singled out in her home. Please, save your questions for another bilingual who’s more comfortable in the spotlight.
The problem with this solution is that it’s extremely American. Like off the charts individualistic. Walls up. Family in. Strangers out. It’s honest. It’s blunt. It’s clear. It’s rude as hell. It’s all of those things. Just depends on your cultural reference. I recently saw an article titled “I Don’t Make My Kid Share” and thought that would never fly in Brazil. Valuing individual property rights over communal harmony would brand you and your kid the biggest jerks on the playground. Not all parenting strategies work equally well in all cultures.
She is Brazilian, living in Brazil, dealing with Brazilians. Shouldn’t I do my best to teach her to understand and navigate her own culture? Is it right to protect her feelings by shutting down people in a culture where small talk is viewed as courteous? Doesn’t she need to be able to cope with the extra attention if it’s going to be part of her reality?
I want to help my daughter balance culture and her personality, and I’m not sure what to say to prepare her for the inevitable questions that come when you are the only one. I grew up a solid member of the majority in everyway possible, but she is often usually the only bilingual, the only American. A little, blue-eyed, Brazilian girl speaking English here in Vitoria is going to make people stop in their tracks and comment.
My plan so far is to tell her she should never talk to strangers without mommy and daddy around. (Safety first.) When we are around, she has an absolute right to remain silent. She doesn’t have to play with or talk to anyone she doesn’t want to. However, I’ll explain people aren’t trying to be mean. They want to learn, and she has the power to teach them. People are curious about her languages and cultures, so when she’s ready, people will be very interested in what she has to say.
We were walking the streets of Rio de Janeiro yesterday when my daughter piped up “Hey, it’s Festa Junina!” I shook my head and tolld her Festa Junina was last month. She insisted and pointed to a street vendor whose stall was decorated with primary colored flags and a stereo blaring forro music. My kid was right. This vendor was still celebrating Festa Junina. My husband, a native of Rio, explained it this way. “Whatever the party, it always lasts a month longer in Rio.”
While many places in Brazil celebrate Festa Junina on the night of June 23 with an official holiday on the 24th, in the Southeast where I’ve lived, Festa Junina parties happen any Friday or Saturday during the month of June. Or if you’re a university club in Rio, every Friday and Saturday in June.
There are fireworks, dancing, carnival games, straw hats and painted freckles (girls) or a painted moustache (boys), and usually at least one mock wedding. I haven’t read exactly how the mock weddings became a staple of Festa Junina parties, but I have a theory. Saint Anthony is considered the patron saint of marriage because he helps single women get husbands so many offerings and prayers are sent to Saint Anthony on his day, June 13. In addition to June being a time when marriage is on the brain, bringing the corn harvest to market was one of the few times people in rural areas got to meet someone they weren’t related to. Oh, and how convenient to have your wedding at the same time as the already scheduled festival! You can save tons on catering! Thus Festa Junina became a day of many weddings.
At my daughter’s school, it’s always Year 4 that stages a mass mock wedding, and this year it was finally her turn. That meant her Festa Junina costume was a wedding dress with a veil, and she LOVED it. It also meant extra time on stage because in addition to the mock wedding, all grade levels perform a quadrilha, a traditional dance done during Festa Junina but with preschoolers is really just a lot of jumping and arm waving.
In my personal opinion, the best part about Festa Junina is the food, but I feel that way about all carnivals and festivals. Any event that has portable grills and homemade sweets being set up on folding tables arranged around ring toss and fishing games is something I’d be delighted to attend.
At the summer games this year in Rio de Janeiro, fans of 41 different sports will have a chance to watch competition between the best athletes in their sport. The world’s best judokas, golfers, divers, bmx cyclists, track cyclists, mountain cyclists (I had no idea there were so many different ways to cycle), trampoline jumpers, and fencers will be here in Brazil competing for gold. To be completely honest, I’m not sure what the modern pentathloners will be doing exactly, but I’m sure it’s something that I cannot.
Portuguese and later Brazilian officials were so frightened by capoeira they outlawed any and everything related to the game. People were arrested for playing capoeira instruments, wearing the colored belts and white pants, or just whistling a capoeira song. Finally, in the 1930’s Mestre Bimba from Salvador convinced the government that capoeira was both an important cultural legacy for Brazil and (because governments respond well to financial incentives) a tourist draw. In 1937, he was allowed to open the first public and officially sanctioned capoeira school in Brazil.
While the styles vary in speed and types of movement, both keep the same format and traditions for practicing. Capoeira is always played inside a circle of musicians, singers, other players, and spectators. The music of capoeira is performed on five instruments: berimbau, pandeiro, atabaque, agogô, and reco-reco. The musicians and singer perform continuously as players tag in and out of the circle. One more important fact! Players never actually strike each other while playing. They feint and dodge and kick, but they never land a blow. That’s why the verb “play” is used for capoeira. They’re playing, not fighting.
There’s so much bad news coming out of Brazil lately. The economy is still in tatters. The president is impeached. The interim president is according to most sources a mysogynist, corrupt pig. (And those are the nice names people are using for him.) Any waterbased Olympic events will require the athletes to wear hazmat suits. Zika.
I’m currently obsessed with an idea for a historical fiction novel and have spent the last week devouring books on colonial Brazil. (I know you’re jealous.) It’s been fascinating reading actually because it’s all entirely new history for me. It wasn’t until World History in high school that I even knew humans existed outside of Europe, and by “Europe” I mean Italy, France, and Britain with a brief stop in Germany for the Reformation. Any ideas I have about Portugal or South America I learned from Columbus Day themed picture books and Disney’s Emperor’s New Groove.
A week ago, 
Having spent the majority of my adult life outside of the United States (mostly in small, homogeneous cities), I’ve gotten used to being the subject of conversation at the next table over. It happens pretty frequently in Vitoria. My husband and I speak in English so people assume I don’t understand their Portuguese freeing them to openly discuss me from two feet away. It happens most frequently with kids and teens, but a surprising number of adults don’t seem to realize that a person could understand both English and Portuguese. In Vitoria, we expats are like endangered wildlife. People know we’re around, but when actually spotted, locals take note.