Monday, April 23, 2007

A soggy Santos soccer game


Rain hits hard and without warning in this city. A sunny day can quickly shift to ominous clouds of lightning in a matter of minutes. As I discovered yesterday afternoon, being unprepared for such transformations will get the contents of your pockets all soggy.


I took the bus with a friend to Morumbi, a part of town I have never visited by bus, to see Santos take on Bragantino in the semifinals of Campeonato Paulista - that's soccer, folks. Well, as sometimes happens in huge cities with confusing roads, the bus turned out not to go the way we wanted to go, so we had to get off and take another bus back to an earlier stop and figure out how to get to this game. And, of course, the sky is getting darker all the while.
At one point, I foresaw the future. It depicted my friend and I huddled under a bus stop in the pouring rain in an unfamiliar part of São Paulo. Five minutes later, the future had arrived. Luckily, we hailed a cab after running through the rain for a good minute or two and were able to make the game before the opening kickoff. (I guess it's more of a tapoff in soccer, but I just like the idea of opening kickoffs.)

The rain was really strong at the start of the game. I had purchased a poncho before entering the stadium even though I was already soaked. Our seats happened to be on the second-level of the stadium under an awning, but the poncho still came in handy to keep me from becoming hypothermic.

The first half of the match was not pretty as the ball slowed in a puddle of water the minute it hit the turf. It wasn't much different then playing soccer with a checkered rock. One quirky thing about Morumbi's stadium is that the rain water is drained into the stadium through little pipes. Small streams of water flowed from above all around the stadium for the first half until the rain subsided. If a soccer stadium could somehow be built among the Iguaçu Falls, it would feel something like that.

Things picked up a bit in the second half, and the Santos fans really got into it as a win or tie would propel their team to the championship game. In my opinion, Santos got outplayed in the second half, but managed to hold on for a 0-0 tie. I don't even want to think about how the thousands of Santos-faithful would have reacted had their team lost. There is nothing worse than a mass of disappointed, angry soccer fans. Nothing.

I had a couple of notable experiences last week that deserve mentioning. Saturday, I visited a fazenda of the Landless Workers Movement, known here as Movimento dos Trabalhadores Rurais Sem Terra or MST. The Landless Workers Movement is the largest social movement in Latin America with well over a million members.

The main objective of MST is land reform in a country were less than 2% of the population owns nearly half of all the fertile land. The movement started in the mid-80s and has grown tremendously over the last 30 years. The way MST works is the group first identifies a piece of land that is not being used, then they occupy it, then they gain the property rights to the land. This chain of events has been upheld in the courts in many instances due to Article 5 in Brazil's constitution which states that land which remains unproductive should be used for a "larger social function." (wikipedia)

The farm that I visited was located about an hour north of São Paulo in a town called Sumaré. The movement had seized the property over 20 years ago and the fields seemed maintained and orderly. We took a stroll through the banana fields and got a peak inside one of the houses on the property. We were led by one of the leaders and original founders of the farm whose beliefs in the success of MST were tied closely to his beliefs in Christianity. The house that we viewed had running water, electricity, hard-tile floors. We were served lunch in a school hall-like building where chickens were kept in the back and a few kids played soccer out front on a sandy field. It seemed like a productive, peaceful community. A thousand times safer than a favela where many of the people involved in MST would probably end up if not for the movement.

Obviously, what this group does is controversial and considered criminal by some, but I find it hard to condemn the people that I encountered last weekend for wanting to have a better, simple life in a country where everything belongs to the few at the expense of the many. Our guide claimed that MST is not a political movement, but there has been evidence that contradicts that belief. Still, I think extreme political beliefs are oftentimes the product of extreme circumstances. How else are these people supposed to make their livelihood?

The second notable experience I had last week was shocking, unpleasant and thankfully over before I could fully process it. I was stopped by a policeman with a drawn weapon as I was making the short walk from my house to the metro around nine o'clock at night. The policeman ordered me to put my hands behind my head and gave me a quick pat down while asking me where I lived and where I was from. Since I was obviously foreign he let me go, but the situation was certainly confusing and frightening.

I had obviously walked into a developing situation. I had passed a suspicious figure hiding behind a tree not far from where I was stopped by the police, so being stopped by the cops wasn't entirely unfounded. The Policia Federal have a reputation for shooting first and asking questions later. It's not much better than being stopped by a criminal. I guess in some way, my foreignness became an advantage for me in that situation.
On a lighter note, I cannot believe that the month of May is just around the corner. My 21st birthday will be next month, and my family has offered to put on a churrasca for the occassion. That means, good food, live music, lots of friends and I'm sure a beer or two will work its way between those three.



Monday, April 16, 2007

There's just something about Mary


Yesterday, I visited a town two hours north of São Paulo called Aparecida and commonly referred to as Aparecida do Norte. Today is a very important day for the people in that town and all Catholics in Brazil as it is the Festa de São Benedito or Saint Benedict's Party. That's right, the saints know how to get down in this country.


The town of 40,000 will swell to over 100,000 today as people arrive from all over Latin America to pay homage to Saint Benedict and Nossa Senhora de Conceição Aparecida (Our Lady of the Conception who Appeared). The story of Aparecida is unique in that the entire community is built around the tourism generated by Nossa Senhora Aparecida - a small statue of the Virgin Mary.


As the story goes:



In 1717, three fishermen were sent out by the local authorities to find fish in the Paraíba River. They went down the river and found nothing. After many unsuccessful attempts they arrived at a place called Porto Itaguaçu. João Alves threw his net into the water and brought back a statue of Our Lady of Conception, but the head was missing. He threw his net in again and soon reeled in the head of the statue. After that, according to the legend, the fish arrived in abundance for the three humble fishermen and their nets were full. (wikipedia)


Since then, devoted Catholics have flocked to the town where Our Lady appeared. The number of annual visitors is over 6 million today.


I visited the Basilica of Apercida, one of the destinations of the Pope when he arrives in Brazil in May. It is second only to St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City in sheer size and can hold 45,000 people at once. Just think how long communion would take for that service.


Inside the Basilica is housed the original statue of Nossa Senhora which appeared nearly 300 years ago. It is viewable in an embedded glass display on one end of the church, and people pass through and take pictures or offer a prayer. It is one of the most underwhelming things you will ever see. Kind of like seeing the Mona Lisa, so I am told. Nossa Senhora Aparecida stands about 30 cm, with a cute little cape and crown. She kind of reminds me of a bottle of Aunt Jemima syrup. This truly must be a Catholic thing.


Below, the sanctuary is an offering room filled with the personal affections of people who wanted to give back to Our Lady for the answering of prayers. The 2002 World Cup jersey of Ronaldo hangs in that room along with dolls, tools, steering wheels and eating utensils. Things you see at garage sales. In fact, it looked like a really cool garage sale.


Outside the basilica is a food court with a McDonalds that contains an aquarium. The town is an interesting mix of commercial and Catholic.


Aparecida was packed during my visit as it was a festival weekend. Small groups dressed in brightly-colored traditional garments and lugging percussion instruments would dance down the streets, and the street vendors and open store fronts dominated the sidewalks. There was a horse parade in the late afternoon. Just a whole bunch of people riding a whole bunch of horses through town and leaving a whole bunch of horse manure behind.


It was an interesting place to visit nevertheless. Even if I don't understand the importance of an Aunt Jemima bottle without syrup.




Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Easter in Iguaçu


For many, Easter is a time of renewal and rebirth - a time of cleansing. Of course, normally spring is right around the corner in Indiana. Down here, it's getting a tad chilly.

Still, what better place to reflect on purity than the Iguaçu Falls, where water - in all its abundance and majesty - seemingly flows from the heavens.

Words and pictures don't do the falls justice. They are something you have to see to truly understand. After a 15-hour bus ride, I spent the first day viewing the falls from the Brazilian side. I caught my first glimpse of water under gravity's influence on a boat ride in the pouring rain in which the definition of "soaked" was taken to another level. On normal rides, the boats explore more of the falls, but with the rain and high rapids, my group got the abbreviated tour. It was still an entertaining ride if only for the large swells that occasionally overwhelmed our craft.

The rain persisted throughout the weekend, but when you are viewing waterfalls you kind of expect to get wet anyway. Saturday, I took a bus to the Argentina side of the falls. A majority of the falls are found on the Argentina side, and we finally saw some sun Saturday afternoon. I was lucky enough to capture one picture of the falls with a rainbow streaming down nearby. No sign of Noah's Arc, however.

The Argentinian park also contained more paths to view the falls from, including one trail that takes you right to the mouth of Garganta do Diabo, the largest of the falls of Iguaçu. Approaching Garganta do Diablo from the side, it appears as if the water supply of the whole world is being sucked into nothingness. Up close, it is still difficult to fathom the amount of water rushing down its neck. I felt very small and insignificant in the presence of Garganta.

Just to contend with all those Americans studying in Europe, we took a trip to Paraguay on Sunday to record our third country in as many days. Paraguay is one of the poorest countries in South America, and the border between Brazil and Paraguay is notorious for drug smuggling. Many tourists in Iguaçu flock to Paraguay to buy things at a considerably discounted price. Beyond the bargains though, there wasn't much to see - unless neglected buildings and trashy streets count. After a few hours of shopping, we took the most delapitated cab in South America back to Brazil.

My decision to visit Iguaçu last weekend was spontaneous, but not random - the falls were definitely on my list of "Places To Visit While In Brazil." Pleasant surprises became a theme for this trip, however, since I traveled with a group of Americans that I hadn't spent much time with previously. Bunk beds and pool-side bars can make you familiar real fast, however. Four girls, two guys, one room. 'Nuff said.

I had a few flashbacks from my counselor days at camp Lutherwald to say the least.

I made it back to São Paulo around noon on Monday. I may have only one 10+ hour bus ride left in me.

This week I finished reading Steinbeck's "Grapes of Wrath." Originally, I was reading the novel for my U.S. History course, but then I found out we were only watching the movie. I finished the book anyway.

It's interesting to note that parallels can be drawn today between Brazil and one of the most American books ever written. While Steinbeck's novel focused on the struggle of migratory farmers in California during the Depression, reading this book helped me empathize with the thousands of homeless and displaced people that live in Brazil's large metroplises. Despite being abundant in natural resources, 80% of Brazilian's live in urban areas.

Like in California during the 1930s, this country is divided into the Have and the Have-Nots, and unfortunately the Haves always seem to do everything in their power to make sure things don't change - including manipulating the law. So much money in this country is poored into security. Personally, I find it hard to live where such obvious descrepancies exist between rich and poor.

It was tough not being in Bloomington last Wednesday as one of my favorite sports writers - and one of the best writers in journalism period - visited campus. No one will ever be able to tell a sports story with the old-fashioned charm of Frank DeFord in today's world. But nobody could back then either.

You can read about his visit here. I especially liked the end of the article related to the "power of sports." That's something that is strongly evident in this country as well.

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

Another "ferias," another "viagem"


I finally got an eagle's eye view of the city I've come to know and (occasionally) love last weekend.
Sunday morning I took a bus to the fringe of the city and hiked up to the Pico do Jaraguá, the highest peak in the state of São Paulo. It was a beautiful day for hiking, and the trail cut right through tropical terrain. The path was a tad rough in a few places, and I thought a couple of my brasiliera companions might turn around and go home, but everyone made it to the top with a little encouragement. (For me, climbing 152 steps twice a day to reach my house turned out to be good training.)

Of course, we were rewarded in the end with a view of the city that taught me just how sprawling this place is. Miles and miles of buildings were visible from the peak. I couldn't pick out a single landmark. São Paulo has no center and all of the buildings are about the same size. It's one massive web of steel and concrete surrounded by a haze of green house gases. I took a few deep breaths of fresh air before starting the hike back down.

It's ridiculous really the amount of time I am getting off for Páscoa, Easter that is. Not that I'm complaining. I had one class this week on Monday night. The rest: canceled.

Actually, I still feel as if I'm waiting for classes to kick in here. School has been in session for a month now, but I haven't had a test or a major assignment due yet. May and June must be a real gauntlet for PUC students...or maybe not (hopefully).

At IU, I usually am holding on for dear life to make it through the week- figuratively speaking. At PUC, I usually am holding on to a tropical drink with a little pink umbrella - literally speaking. I'm trying to convince myself that I deserve this prolonged respite, that I'm being rewarded for something good I did somewhere along the line. Sure, everything I do here has some kind of priceless, sentimental "I'm in Brazil!" quality attached to it. But when are these teacher going to get down to business?

These are the things I will be thinking about on my 12-hour bus ride to the falls of Iguaçu tomorrow. I'm taking the bus to Iguaçu because:

a) It's less expensive.
b) The airports resemble a refugee camp these days.

Recently, São Paulo air traffic controllers went on strike, which messed up just about every international flight last weekend. Delta completely postponed their Saturday flight. How do I know? I watched the Final Four with their pilots at an Irish pub.

I will be spending my Easter weekend near the borders of Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay where one of the most amazing natural wonders of the world flows. The Iguaçu Falls are made up of over 250 waterfalls of up to 270 feet in height, and the park in which the falls are located is also home to many exotic plants and animals (like the jaguar and the anteater).
I heard that you don't breath air in Iguaçu, you breath butterflies. Assuming this is true, I'm packing a snorkel.