Progress and Order: A Land of Contrasts

Brazil, the developing and ever-promising country of the 20th century, is changing. The world’s fifth largest population is the only Portugues-speaking nation in the Americas, and our second port on Semester at Sea. Americans who criticize and point fingers at the destruction of the Brazilian Amazon and 30% of the entire world’s tropical forest need to take another look. The Brazilian Ministry of Environment and the newly democratic state of Brazil (since the 1980s) are moving beyond progress and order, progresso e ordem in portugues. Ever promising since the 1970s, Brazil has yet to take off and become the economic powerhouse of the Americas, but things are finally changing. With development and growth, the Brazilians have mastered economic and environmental growth and protection—long been considered two opposites not used in the same sentence. Brazil still has its problems (1% of the population owns 50% of land, the world’s largest gap between the richest and poorest, etc.), but they are developing creative solutions. Proof of this fact is that they consume 2.2% of the world’s energy, but only produce less than 1.5% of the worldwide emissions of fossil fuels. In Caribuna, a city in the Southeast, with a population growth that has tripled, urban management has been able to cut traffic by 30%. Hybrid buses now account for 90% of the public transportation in Brazil, minimizing their dependence on oil and other fossil fuels with electricity. The biodiversity of the world is shrinking, literally, 1 species every hour, but Brazil has learned that with progress and order, the national motto printed on every flag, there is more potential in healthy growth than environmental destruction. Look again, my fellow Americans, because we have little room to criticize this changing and contrasting land.

Brazil is the land of differences. The land where favelas and skyscrapers, pristine beaches and the poorest high crime streets, and neighborhoods with no running water, sewage or paved streets and million-reaies (the money is pronounced “hey’-eis” in plural in portugues and real or “hey’-al” in singular) houses all side-by-side. Dozens of races, but a different concept of race and racism. The list goes on and on. As Brazil continues to advance and develop the interior of the nation, the urbanization of this land (now 80% of the population) of opportunity continues. The capital has moved around the country, once in Salvador, later in Rio de Janeiro, and finally and more recently, to the middle of nowhere now called Brasilia. This city sprung up from the depths of the Amazon Basin jungles and was the first capital city in the world to be urbanely planned so precisely and beautifully. The jungles are being developed, similar to the States or Europe a few centuries ago, and the people are moving from the rural and farm lands to the cities of Sao Paulo (12 million), Rio (6 million), Salvador (2.5 million) and other places. Untouched jungles are being removed for cattle and houses and new skyscrapers. The people move for a better life. More opportunities. People are taking a chance, and upon arrival, are often forced to live into favelas or shantytowns. They construct houses out of whatever they can get, Nestle signs as roofs, aluminum siding as walls, and others of brick. The favelas are named after a small tree that many poor folks plant in their neighborhoods without roads. When the exodus to the cities began a couple decades ago, people brought these trees to the largest cities, and the word became synonymous with poverty and slums.

In Rio, the two worlds of poverty and riches clash. Unlike the suburbia of Philadelphia or New York or most other so-called “developed” cities where the monied-classes escape the dangers and crime of the lower-income people described by the phrase “white-flight”, the neighborhoods of Rio buttress favelas against mansions and skyscrapers. Due to the geography of the hills and mountains of the Brazilian plateaus, there is no room for suburbs. Downtown and historic Centro Rio houses Mangeuira and other favelas. Where in San Francisco and other American cities the wealthy move up the mountains for the best vistas, the Brazilian favelas are forced to take the high ground by tearing down the jungles and constructing shanty towns with very little space and money on dangerous slopes and mountains. The people in most Rio favelas earn about 110 reais a month or about $1.50 a day. They are fighting to survive and put food on their tables. The lack of government control and influence in the favelas is replaced with local drug lords, who provide for the people but with dangerous repercussions. When drug dealers fight for territory or control between favelas, the bullets easily pierce the aluminum and hundreds die. Within other favelas, 60% to 80% of the children grow up to sell drugs or participate in gangs. The drug dealers offer an option, albeit a dangerous one. “Imagine if you grew up in a favela?,” the public relations director of Mangueira favela asked our group in Rio. “There is no water, no sewage, no jobs, no options.” The cycle of poverty is intense, and I hope that students leave with more than pictures. I sincerely hope that they leave with true understanding, not pity but compassion, not arrogance but a better idea about their privilege. Some students were more interested in pictures of the little children playing than the history of this creative social project, now funded by the state government and Xerox company. I overheard students, just beginning their voyage, describing the happiness and passion of the children, a similar sentiment expressed during slavery times and with the “happy and carefree slave” pictured in early 20th century media. Poverty is outside of the students’ experience and they are oblivious of the misery of a life of poverty, drugs, crime, and hardship. In the end, I hope they leave not with apathy and disgust but their continued optimism and idealism and a better concept of poverty and privilege.

What is the solution? The Brazilians are being forced to address the inequities of capitalism and find creative ideas to solve the problems. The complicated and long Brazilian history helps us understand the complexity of class in Brazil. At first, the Portugues stole and looted the Brazilian landscape for centuries, taking gold, silver, timber and food. As colonialism developed, a wealthy entirely-White plantation class grew, and they have influenced the politics and economic chances ever since. After a bloodless revolution from Portugues control in the 19th century, the military took over and dictated daily life, and control in the hands of a few continued. Only recently has democracy blossomed, still tender, delicate and protected, but what about the inequities? Lula, the first and current president not to come from the rich upper class, has to produce results. With many voices come lots of input, but Lula’s time, ideas and government need to intervene. The times are desperate and the future of the lowest class in Brail looks grim. Last month, the government declared a change in the traffic law—no longer will car drivers need to stop for stop-lights after 9 PM for fear of robberies or car-jackings. When you talk to the people in Rio or Salvador, I heard many of the same fatalistic comments about how these things have, and will, always be. There are rich and poor, races and racism, crime and murder, but life goes on. Like cards shuffled up, you are dealt an ace or a deuce, and you must live your life as passionately and best as you can.

Salvador da Bahia do todo los Santos (Salvador of the Bay of all Saints) is a vibrant city with a great history as well. Here the descendants of African slaves have preserved their history and culture through the food, religiosity, music, dance and martial arts. Capoeira and Candomble, two manifestations of the mixing of African, colonial and indigenous cultures are studied and highly visible today. Capoeira was a form of martial arts developed by slaves in Brazil as a means of maintaining a ready self-defense against their masters and is believed to have come from a ritualistic African dance. Candomble is an Afro-Brazilian cult that stems from Yoruba traditions in Africa, mixing Catholicism with African ceremonies and gods. In this hottest land and darkest of people, I explored the streets of the Pelourinho, a World Heritage Site where slaves were whipped, stored in large warehouses and sold only a 120 years ago. The Mercado Modelo (modern market) once housed the slaves from the large 19th century ships, and locals describe an eery and ghostly experience at night with many, many ghost stories of slaves tortured. But behind these despicable and horrific crimes of humanity lie the best site for Carnaval, a passion for music and dance, often seen on the street at all hours of the day and night, and a newfound tourism industry. Today, the upper and lower cities are merely relics of the once great capital of Brazil, but the economy is returning. On my last day in Brazil, we saw the passion of the city of Bahia at a soccer match between Bahia and Vitoria, a sport, the locals say, Europeans invented, and Brazilians perfected. A futbol match on Superbowl Sunday; the influence of American culture is ever-pervasive. Despite the growing hatred of U.S. politics, the love of American music, food and companies is still strong. While walking the skinny, winding roads of Salvador da Bahia, we still heard about the Superbowl and American media stories. The world is indeed getting smaller.

This is the land of wealth and poverty, crime and passion, happiness and great suffering. Economic development versus environmental protection. Cities versus rural. Poverty and wealth. Crime and dancing on the same street. Mixing of races, but a deep and unfortunately vibrant racism. Walking down the street, you are as likely to see couples kissing, others dancing, others playing samba as to watch pickpockets work the crowds and other criminals using more violent techniques. Our time in Brazil was short, only 5 days. Each and every port I leave with a feeling that I want just a little more. I reflect on the differences that I see in Brazilian society, and I remember the contrast between traveler and educator. It’s Monday and back to work for students, staff and faculty alike.