Thursday, May 10, 2007

Papa-mania


He is here.

Pope Benedict XVI arrived in São Paulo yesterday afternoon. He stepped out of the plane to see gray skys and spittles of rain. The temperature was a very unwelcoming 10 degrees Celsius. He flew by private jet from Italy earlier in the morning and listened to opera musica while sipping orange juice en route to São Paulo.

Today the Pope is meeting with President Lula and will address the youth of the church at o estádio do Pacaembu. No word yet on whether the Pope found his breakfast agreeable or not. Stay tuned.

The amount of coverage dedicated to the Pope's visit this week is bordering on insane right now, and rightly so because people go crazy for this guy. According to one report, people began congregating at five in the morning today outside the monastery of São Bento where the Pope slept last night hoping to catch a glimpse of his holiness.

I'm not sure if there is a word for people who awake in the wee small hours of the morning to peak in on 80 year-old men, but allow me to suggest one: Popaphiles.

The traffic has been ungodly today and three of my classes have been canceled because of Benedict's visit. It's like another holiday.

Yesterday, I tried to get a slice of Papa-pie for myself, waiting outside of São Bento for an hour and an half in the cold. Published reports said the Pope would be arriving at 6:45 in the evening. The helicopters hovered above, the police were out in full force and a good crowd had gathered outside the monastary. The TV crews were firmly entrenched, and I saw the flags of Argentina and Chile in the crowd along with a giant-size version of Nossa Senhora Aparecida. There was even a small balcony with a bullet-proof bubble for the Pope to gaze off.

"Queremos ver o papa!" (We want to see the Pope!) was the cheer of choice along with sporadic bouts of singing, but o papa never appeared.

I left at 8:00 cold, hungry and Pope-less.

Many of the Brazilians I have talked to said they prefered John Paul II over the current Pope, but you wouldn't know this guy had detractors by attending the rallies. His visit is obviously meaningful to many people here, but I'm not even sure if the people who stood outside in the cold at 5 AM could tell you why.

But they might be able to tell you what the Pope had for breakfast.

UPDATE: I watched most of the Pope's youth gathering on TV and was actually pretty impressed. 35,000 jovens from all over Latin America were in attendance to address concerns such as the lack of jobs for college graduates, child slavery, prostitution and the environment. I haven't seen much evidence of empowered youth in this country, so it was an encouraging event.

The division between church and state can get a little hazy in countries that are predominantly Catholic. That makes changing the world a bit more confusing on this level.

Friday, May 4, 2007

Baby, it's cold outside


Things have been real chill as of late.

Not just as in I-haven't-done-anything-worth-mentioning chill, but also as in it's-starting-to-cool-down-around-here chill. That's right folks, the Earth's axis is tilting to my dissastisfaction. The sweatshirt has joined the umbrella on the list of Things I should take with me when leaving the house but don't.


With the weather going to crap here and things warming up back home, I've been going through a bit of a Hooser-nostalgia phase. The "moonlight on the Wabash" and all that junk. Then I realize I've never even seen the Wabash at night. I've got two more months to rock out in Brazil.


Today, I had my first in-class test of the semester at PUC. It was also the first test in my 16-year history of test-taking where I felt the urge to leave a disclaimer note at the bottom:


Dear Professor,


Excuse my poor grammar and rudimentary analysis. I have yet to understand a single joke that you've told this semester.
Sincerely,
Your beloved class gringo


It went something like that.


I actually felt pretty proud of myself after handing the test in. English is a walk in the park compared to this Portuguese thing.


To break up the monotony of "fall" in São Paulo, Sampa will be hosting Pope Benedict XVI next week. That's right, that means the US President and the Pope will have visited São Paulo within two months of each other. It's just the city to visit these days.
What happens when the leader of the Catholic church comes to visit the most Catholic nation in the world? In the words of Terrence Man, "People will come, Ray. People will most definitely come."
In the millions. Once again, I will be on the outside looking in.





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.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Almost Paradise


Tall and tan and young and lovely
the girl from Ipanema goes walking
and when she passes
each one she passes goes ahhh

After my visit to Rio de Janeiro it's easy to see how a certain stretch of coastline could inspire such songs as the The Girl from Ipanema and Copacabana. It's impossible to walk along these renowned beaches on a sunny day without a catchy tune in your head.

The differences between Rio and São Paulo are vast. While São Paulo feels like an endless mish-mash of buildings and more buildings...and more buildings, Rio seems more open. The city's infrastructure weaves around the scattered peaks and wraps along the coast, so you always have that visual escape from urban life. There even is a national park inside the city, which is kind of unique. And despite Rio's problems with crime and violence, it is still one of the most beautiful cities in the world. No doubt.

When she walks she's like a samba
that swings so cool and sways so gently
that when she passes
each one she passes goes ahhh

My group flew in on Friday morning and began the weekend with a tour of Rio's historic downtown. Stuffy churches, classic libraries, provocative art - I think just about every city has these things, but I was in Ree-Oh Day Jah-Nare-Oh so it seemed innovative. We ate lunch downtown at one of the most well-known restaurants in the city called Confeitura Colombo. It was a buffet-style restaurant with one heck of a dessert selection. Of course I took full advantage.

For three nights I stayed in The Ipanema Hotel, which coincidentally is located right next to A Praia da Ipanema, sometimes referred to as "the beach." I didn't actually get to enjoy the beach until Sunday and Monday, but when I did it really felt like walking into a postcard. The waves build up right on top of the shore and the islands rest in front looking out into the Atlantic. A towering rock that touches the clouds towers to the right and the line of hotels sit behind.

On weekends, people flock to the beach to relax or play volleyball. Ipanema is the first beach I've seen in Brasil where people are serious about their volleyball. Even some of the older women can get some wicked spin on their serves.

The waves on Rio's coastline can be wicked as well. If you're not paying attention, every once and awhile a towering current will crash into the sand and leave you washed up on shore wondering who just hit you with a baseball bat. Several people in my group complained of shore shoulders, busted bottoms and headaches courtesy of Wave Monster Ipanema.

Oh, but he watches so sadly
How can he tell her he loves her
Yes, he would give his heart gladly
but each day when she walks to the sea
she looks straight ahead not at he

Friday night I attended a samba show at the Vivo Rio. Beth Carvalho, a well-known Brazilian singer, was the headliner for a show that celebrated the history and development of Brazil's favorite rhythm. I recognized one song thanks to my Brazilian music class, but sadly I couldn't join in with the rest of the audience who seemed to know just about every song. I think the U.S. could use a little more samba on the airwaves just to shake thing up a bit.

Saturday was a day of high altitudes and amazing birds-eye views. Not only did I take the cable cars to the summit of Pão de Açucar (Sugarloaf Mountain) and get to see Cristo Redentor shrouded in mist at the top of Corcovado, but I also went hang gliding in the morning. It was an experience that I won't soon forget.

Asa Delta, the hang gliding company, picked my group of three up at our hotel and drove us to a beach where hang gliders were floating in to land. In a nearby peak 520 meters above I could make out the small wooden runway where the gliders were taking off. Another shuttle ride took us into Tijuca Forest and to the top of the peak where the platform stood. There I strapped into a hang gliding suit and was giving quick instructions by my pilot/partner Rafael, who couldn't have been much taller than five feet.

Watching people take off made me a bit nervous. The runaway didn't seem too long. Each time a new glider prepared to take off the instructor would count to three, then the instructor and the paying customer would take a first step and begin to run together. And keep running. Right off the platform and into the sky. Yikes.

After a quick run-through of the takeoff and an explanation on the landing procedure, however, I was standing on the runaway ready to fly. The key is to keep running and not slow down as you approach the edge. I think I executed fairly well.

That first few seconds in the air was awesome. From my vantage point in the sky I peered out into the ocean, stared below at the tops of 30-story buildings and sailed between the tree-covered peaks. Of course, I left the controls to Rafael. After a few slow turns, the fifteen-minute flight ended on a sandy beach. My Superman impersonation was over.

Tall and tan and young and lovely
the girl from Ipanema goes walking
and when she passes
each one she passes goes ahhh

Sunday night was the 21st birthday of an American friend, so a group of us went to a Thai restaurant where the tables are only like a foot off the ground so you sit on the floor. Obviously everyone in Thailand is the size of Oompa-Loompas because that is not a way to enjoy a good meal. We also visited a nearby bar where the strangest combination of fashion and music was waiting for us. Grunge, emo-looking Brazilians were rocking around the clock to 50s rock-n-roll at a place called the Irish Bar. Jerry Lee Lewis is very much alive in this country.

The four-day visit ended all too soon, but I think I got to see the best parts of Rio. Besides, I've got to get this song out of my head.

the girl from Ipanema goes walking
and when she passes he smiles
but she doesn't see
she just doesn't see