A Unique Brazilian Experience

A few weeks have passed since I last posted to the blog, and I think the reason I haven't been able to post an update on the Carapicuíba project is because I am still trying to process all that happened. I was thrust into the experience by circumstance, and each day the experience seemed to direct and shape itself. A brief overview might help explain:

It began at the permaculture site, an incredible experience in itself, and continued in São Paulo where we were supposed to be for only two days. After five days I was finally able to go back to the site just to gather my things and return to the city because the opportunity to collaborate on the project in Carapicuíba presented itself. The idea was to renovate a public park that was in terrible condition using ideas from permaculture, Felipe's specialty. The Secretary of Education of Carapicuíba initiated the project as part of establishing an open university. What does 'open university' mean? Well, I don't know exactly, but I think it is similar to community colleges in the states where a wide variety of courses in the arts can be offered alongside mathematics, sciences and the usual.

The group that worked on the project consisted of Felipe, an engineer and the owner of Sítio São Francisco, and three international architecture students that Felipe knew - one from France and two from Spain. After many late nights developing the idea for the project and several meetings with local authorities, the Prefeitura of Carapicuíba (basically the mayor of the city) confirmed our trip to the capital of the country to meet with people from the Ministry of Education.

Presenting the basics of permaculture -
on the screen is the Flower of Permaculture

As the project stood after our trip to Brasilia, things were still up in the air as to what extent the project was going to be supported by federal funds. Basically we ran up against the stifling power of bureaucracy, but as Felipe pointed out, we were able to spread the idea of permaculture to some federal bureaucrats who were quite interested in the ideas, which is a small success in its own right. Unfortunately, they weren't able to provide the kind of support that we were hoping to receive for this sort of unique project.

Late nights developing the idea for the project.


One of the first presentations about the project was made
to the Secretary of Education of Carapicuíba.


The next step was to convince the Prefeitura
of Carapicuíba to back the project.


From there we took a road trip to Brasilia.
Here the group is working hard on our lunch break...
well, the girls are working hard.

Our final meeting in Brasilia.

I think this experience ranks at the top of my list of frustrating experiences. By the time we arrived in Brasilia and encountered the bureaucracy, I was already accustomed to not understanding and being frustrated. For almost an entire month I tagged along while the other four people in the group discussed the project and daily logistical plans in Portuguese. I never completely understood what was going on at any given moment. All the frustration, though, forced me evaluate the situation and the experience in a different way, and it ultimately led me to significantly increase my already immense propensity for patience. It also provided the necessary atmosphere and drive to learn Portuguese. If the group had spoke English the whole time, I never would have picked up the amount of Portuguese that I did. I suppose the challenge is what it was all about in the first place, and I certainly encountered a unique challenge during my time in Brazil.

My goal all along has been to help out in any way I can, but without the ability to communicate effectively it is difficult to establish what that means. In the end, I was able provide a few contributions to the effort. For one, I gave my opinion on the presentation they were giving and how to direct that more towards each different person/group that they presented to. With all the experience I have giving presentations in college, I feel like I had a few worthwhile tips for them. It even helped that I didn't understand the project in detail due to the language barrier because it lent a certain objectivity to my observations. At the beginning of the project, they asked me to document the process for them, so one of my more tangible contributions was in the form of raw video and pictures from the development of the project and the road trip to Brasilia. I personally won't be able to use much of the video due to my lack of translating abilities in Portuguese, but at least now they have a visual record of the process that they can perhaps use in the future.

So, the Brazil leg of the journey has come to a close, and I am slowly making my way West across the continent to Chile to spend a few weeks working in Valparaíso before starting the journey North. Bye bye Brazil - I will miss your zest and contagious energy. Muito obrigado to all the incredible people who helped light the way. Nunca posso olvidar, e com certeza vou voltar algum dia. Até logo!

Sítio São Francisco

It has been a very dynamic, educational and challenging experience working on the permaculture site as well as continuing the experience in São Paulo with people from the site. I only spent one week actually on the site, but new opportunities have lead us to a project transforming a run-down city park into part of an open university using ideas from permaculture and sustainable living. The group has a meeting tomorrow with the mayor of Carapicuiba (which is basically part of São Paulo, though technically its own municipality), and then we will see if we are going to Brasilia, the capital of Brazil, to meet with the Minister of Education. It is certainly not the kind of experience that I thought I would have going to a farm far outside the city, but it is turning out to be a much more diverse and valuable experience than I could have imagined.
With that said, below is a bit of an introduction to Sítio São Francisco. I also have footage from the Bioconstructing Workshop that Felipe hosted there, but I need some translating help before it can make any sense. Enjoy


Sítio São Francisco from Twenty Twelves on Vimeo.

Technical Difficulties Technically Not A Problem

It has been an intense week and a half at Sitio São Francisco, a permaculture site in the Quantinga Valley about 2 hours outside of São Paulo city. Besides a day trip to the nearby city of Mogi das Cruzes, I´ve spent the whole time communing with nature in a house in the middle of the woods without electricity or running water. I´ll spare you the details of the banheiro seco or my lack of a shower, but the butterflies don´t seem to mind the natural aromas-

This little guy hung around for a few minutes.
The number 88 is dinstinctly marked on its wings. Crazy.

Despite the unappealing details I´ve been really enjoying the experience. The first few days involved intense manual labor cutting down Eucalyptus trees, dragging them down a narrow wooded path then over a hill, stripping them of their bark, cutting them to size with a hatchet, and finally nailing them in place. The structure below (on top of the existing concrete building) uses materials found on the site or recycled from trash. The only materials bought for the building are the nails. An interesting side note that won´t make my mother proud, Felipe (the owner/only permanent resident of the site) and I dug out some useful materials from a city garbage container in downtown São Paulo last night that included carpet and a bamboo laundry basket. The creativity and resourcefulness here continuously amaze me.

Eucalyptus frame with bamboo poles running laterally along the roof


This bamboo pole is now on top of the building in the background

What has been so incredible is the diversity of opportunities to learn new practical skills while actively participating in creating something new or improving something that most have given up on. Watching your efforts become something of tangible value holds such a deep sense of satisfaction. On top of that, the physically demanding days (and absense of city noise, i.e. passing cars or crazy people with slabs of concrete yelling at passing cars) make for some of the best sleep I´ve had in a long time.

Group from the weekend permaculture/Tai Chi workshop building a solar oven
with materials found at the site. More on that later.

We are now in São Paulo city while Felipe collaborates on various projects utlizing his knowledge of permaculture. In the last two days we have met with a family opening a cultural community arts center based around their Capoeira school, a neighborhood reclaiming an unused area to create a park dedicated to education about the African diaspora in Brazil, and the municipal government of Carapicuíba (basically part of São Paulo but not technically) renovating a public park and looking to implement ecologically friendly ideas from permaculture. I happened to stumble upon the most intense and diverse experience one could have in Quatinga...

We are heading to the federal capital of Brasilia next week to meet with an important federal government official. I can´t tell you who...not because I´m not supposed to, but because either I forgot the name or that part got lost in translation. Regardless, my time here is proving to be much more exciting than I imagined. A small glitch that occured tonight is the refusal of my computer to do anything. Luckily we are in São Paulo and Toshiba has an office here that might be able to help. With the way things are progressing, though, it will be nice not to worry about computer details and focus on the more immediate details of how I can be useful. Perhaps my computer crashed to help keep me connected to reality rather than cyberspace.

Language Learning Made Easy with Music

I have met several people in the last few months who amaze me by saying that they learned English by watching movies and/or listening to music. Of course they take a much more active role in listening, but it shows that if the will to learn is there, it will happen without expensive textbooks, fancy libraries or advanced computer programs. All you need is a dictionary and some good tunes, so for anyone interested, here is a fantastic song by Ben Harper and a well-known Brazilian artist named Vanessa da Mata that should help you. The best part about this song is Ben Harper basically sings the translation of the Portuguese lyrics the whole time.

Link to the YouTube video

And the lyrics:

É só isso
Não tem mais jeito
Acabou
Boa sorte
Não tenho o que dizer
São só palavras
E o que eu sinto
Não mudará

Tudo o que quer me dar
É demais
É pesado
Não há paz
Tudo o que quer de mim
Irreais
Expectativas
Desleais

That's it
There is no way
It's over
Good luck
I have nothing left to say
It's only words
And what l feel
Won't change

(Refrão)

Tudo o que quer me dar
Everything you want to give me
É demais
It too much
É pesado
It's heavy
Não há paz
There is no peace
Tudo o que quer de mim
All you want from me
Irreais
Isn´t real
Expectativas
Expectations
Desleais

Mesmo, se segure
Quero que se cure
Dessa pessoa
Que o aconselha
Há um desencontro
Veja por esse ponto
Há tantas pessoas especiais

Now even if you hold yourself
I want you to get cured
From this person
Who advises you
There is a disconnection
See through this point of view
There are so many special people in the world
So many special people in the world... in the world
All you want all you want

(Repete refrão)
Now were falling (falling), falling (falling) into the night (into the night),
Falling (falling), falling (falling) into the night (um bom encontro é de dois),
Now were falling (falling), falling (falling) into the night (into the night),
Falling (falling), falling (falling) into the night.

Sinking In

Sinking into the local culture and experiencing as much as possible is always my main goal, though this bearded gringo doesn't exactly fit in when walking through the street. Brasil has such a rich cultural diversity that I have been a bit overwhelmed with the variety of flavors, fun times, and filling foods.

Lunch is the main meal of the day here. Most days my friend's family comes home from work to eat a big lunch together. One lunch might have 5 or 6 different dishes to pile on a plate. A few examples of foods that I have had include:

Feijão com arroz - Beans with chunks of meat poured on top of rice
Pão de queijo - cheese bread
Polenta - similar to grits but not as gritty...
Farofa - mixed with...almost anything really
Stroganoff - somehow Russian influence made it into to a delicious, creamy Brazilian dish. I ate it with frango (chicken)

These, of course, are just examples, but the point is that each day is a feast of new flavors. I told my friend and his family that I would be 350 pounds if I lived here.

One of my favorite dishes is camarão na moranga, or shrimp in a pumpkin. I got to help make it when I was in Florianópolis and stumbled across it again in a buffet here in Piracicaba (buffets where you pay by weight are very common here in Brazil). Creating this concoction was just like carving a Halloween pumpkin until they skipped carving the face and starting filling the pumpkin with requijão (a creamy cheese) and shrimp. You bake it in the oven for a couple of hours and then mix the inside of the pumpkin with the shrimp and cheese. Thick, rich, creamy, tasty goodness in a convenient biodegradable bowl. Brilliant.

I didn't take this picture...in fact, I don't know who did,
but it more or less looks like the one that I ate.

My latest experience in Brazilian cuisine was at a rodízio (hoe-DEE-zee-oh), which is where you pay a set price and waiters bring offerings of different foods to the table until you signal that you have had enough. This is rather dangerous in my case, because I don't stop until I've tried everything. More specifically, we went to a churrascaria that serves various kinds of meat delivered on giant skewers. The waiters then slice off pieces for you at the table as you pluck them off the skewer with little tongs. They had at least six different cuts of beef, four or five different types of sausage (unfortunately no blood sausage, I miss Argentinian morcilla), a thick white fish that I can't remember the name of, white and dark meat chicken, and even chicken hearts. I wasn't very fond of the latter - too tough and chewy, but my friend who took me to the rodízio loved them.

The name of the restaurant:
Salt and Hot Coal

The menu explained the seven main cuts of beef that they serve.
My favorites were picanha and cupim.


Picture on the front of the menu is none other than picanha.

On a final note, my Portuguese is coming along (I don't know if I would say quickly), but I'm still having trouble with some of the sounds, in particular the ão sound. It is a deep nasal sound that doesn't occur in English, that I can think of, but is frequently used in Portuguese. I'll use another reference to Fernando Pessoa's poetry to illustrate how common this sound is used and therefore how often people look at me funny when I try to pronounce it:

Os campos, afinal, não são tão verdes para os que são amados
Como para os que o não são.
Sentir é estar distraído.

The fields, after all, are not as green for those that are loved
As for those that are not.
To feel is to be distracted.

Pretty deep, huh? Deep like the nasal sound you have to make to say the ão sound. While my attempts to speak Portuguese may well be struggling to stay afloat, I am planning my next attempt to sink further into the culture and force myself to learn the language - a month on a farm. It is about as far away from the tourist track as you can get, so I'm going. Faló!

Useful Days

Weekdays in Portuguese are called dias úteis (literally 'useful days' - though everyone knows weekends are always more useful) and rather than having names based on pagan gods or planets like the rest of the Romance languages as well as in Germanic languages, the days of the week are numbered. This apparently follows the Latin terms for Easter week. Sunday, the first day of the week, is dies Domenica (literally Lord's Day) in Latin or Domingo in Portuguese. The next day, Monday, becomes the "second day of rest" (again, in observance of Easter week) and therefore Segunda-feira. The word feira in Portuguese means 'fair' and the closely related word férias means 'vacation'. I think it is a bit ironic that the dias úteis would refer to the days we should not work.

Portuguese - English
Fim de semana = Weekend
Domingo = Sunday
Sábado = Saturday

Dias úteis (literal translation)= Weekdays
Segunda-feira (Second fair) = Monday
Terça-feira (Third fair) = Tuesday
Quarta-feira (Fourth fair) = Wednesday
Quinta-feira (Fifth fair) = Thursday
Sexta-feira (Sixth fair) = Friday

I suppose I should go out and take advantage of the rest of this useful day.

Two weeks in Brazil...I mean, duas semanas no Brasil

Just over two weeks ago, Brazil was a frightening prospect. It promised a nerve-racking border crossing complete with full bag inspection and dark room interrogation, an even worse language barrier than in Argentina and Uruguay (since I theoretically speak Spanish and couldn't even count to ten in Portuguese), and a crime rate that assures each visitor a blind-folded minivan ride before the end of the first week. After seeing the Brazilian movies City of God (Cidade de deus) and The Elite Squad (Tropa de Elite), I started to wonder if the entire country was one giant lawless favela. The State Department Travel Information wasn't helping to allay my fears, though it rarely does. I did find some reassurances amidst the doom and gloom:

Travelers should "dress down" when outside and avoid carrying valuables or wearing jewelry or expensive watches.

Considering I have only 5 t-shirts and 3 pairs of shorts, one of which is a swim suit, and laundry gets done every 2 to 3 weeks, there is really no other option than to "dress down". The next step down is not showering, and I don't think that is necessary, though it does happen from time to time. Basically I should try and avoid looking like a tourist with money. My question is, does this look like someone with their act together?

Very poor neighborhoods known as "favelas" ... are sites of uncontrolled criminal activity and are often not patrolled by police. U.S. citizens are advised to avoid these unsafe areas.

After pondering this for a few moments, I came to the conclusion that they are just saying use common sense. For example, if you see someone carrying a big automatic weapon, don't walk towards them; walk away. Fortunately my mom instilled in me a healthy sense of precaution, maybe not as much as she would like, but enough to keep me from putting myself in certain senseless situations.

All joking aside, it really is important to take into consideration the travel warnings and stories of crime and social disorder when traveling through an area. On the other hand, you cannot let all the possible bad things that could happen to you keep you from going. New York can be pretty scary, but it's worth a visit.

In contrast to my initial fears, I slept through the border crossing while the bus company dealt with border formalities for both Uruguay and Brazil, the only guns I've seen were in the hands of armored truck guards transporting money to and from an ATM (which I feel is normal enough), and I have managed to pick up enough Portuguese to buy bananas on the side of the road.

R$ 2, or about US$0.90, for the whole bunch! That's like 3 cents per banana!

I spent my first week in the comfort of a hostel where English was spoken. Most hostels, especially in touristy areas, have English-speaking staff. I wanted to ease into needing Portuguese to acquire the essentials for a sustainable existence. It has its other benefits as well. One of the best things about the hostel scene in tourist spots is the incredible diversity of people and points of view from all over the world. Here is a condensed list of the people I met while in Florianópolis: droves of Argentinians, a few Isrealis, an Italian geologist on vacation, Australians, an Austrian who lives in Brazil for half the year, a group of young English chums, an Irish dentist who gave me a much-appreciated free consultation on my impacted wisdom tooth, a Dutch girl that I first met in Bariloche back at the beginning of February, two sweet Swedish girls, a smily middle-aged Swiss arquitect, a Portuguese guy, a German with dreadlocks, a Japanese cyclist who had been traveling by bike for the last year and a half starting in Canada, a multilingual French guy who ended up being my adventure guide and translator for the first few days, and of course Brazilians. By the way, the Brazilians that I have met generally seem to be jolly, kind, giving people. One of the reception workers at the hostel who is from Floripa offered me a free lesson in Portuguese and gave me a book of poetry by one of Brazil's most beloved poets, Fernando Pessoa. It has been a useful and enjoyable study tool. It is also probably essential to my ability to buy those bananas on the road trip from Florianópolis to Piracicaba. So, a big thanks to Flavia.

Fortunately, I have found that I can get by with Portuñol here, a rough mix of Portuguese and Español (Spanish). I have even resorted to speaking straight Spanish when I have no clue in Portuguese, and most of the time I can make myself understood with the help of lots of gestures. It is frustating though when you want to communicate ideas more complex than 'I need food' and 'I need a bathroom'. Discussing social inequality or the role of television in shaping society using only gestures just doesn't get the whole point across. I did manage a short conversation about the latter where our common language was gestures and noises. It consisted mainly of making circles with the index finger around the temple, which is the international sign for 'crazy', and walking like a zombie, also internationally understood by sticking your arms out in front of you as you groan and stiffly stagger forward.

One of the times that I really wanted to know the language was in the center of Lagoa da Conceição in Florianópolis. Bars, restaurants, hotdog shops and pastelerías line the main road, and people pour out onto the streets accompanied by live music flowing from the open-air bars. I noticed a number of people roaming about picking up cans and rummaging through bins for other recyclables. After noticing it in the center that night, I continued to see the same thing in many bus stations all over the island. I assume cans are worth a few cents each, and I wondered if these people survive completely by collecting them. One night I put some cans from my hostel in a plastic grocery bag and took them with me to the center. I handed them to the first person I saw collecting cans. She was a short lady perhaps in her late 50s with a kind, tranquil face and thin silver hair almost to her shoulders. When I first offered the bag, she stopped and gave me a baffled look, I'm sure wondering what this strange bearded foreign dude was handing her. When she realized what was in the bag, she accepted with a warm, squinted smile and continued on with her search.

That smile was a simple thank you, but it held a certain degree of contentment that made me wonder about her way of life and how happy it makes her. There is no one right or wrong way to live. If the goal is to be happy, who is to say what way of life brings that about? We are predisposed to thinking that these people are less fortunate than us, but that judgment depends on how you define success. We would assume that someone who collects cans for a few cents each is not financially successful, but if she has her basic needs met and is content with having nothing more, then she must be successful. My point is that I don't know because without a common language, I had no way of knowing anything more about her, but the experience made me reevaluate some assumptions. I found a poem by Pessoa that might shed some light:

Un dia de chuva é tão belo como um dia de sol.
Ambos existem, cada um como é.

Fortunately, this is close enough to Spanish that I can offer a translation:

A day of rain is as beautiful as a day of sun.
Both exist, each one as it is.

-Fernando Pessoa

The Final Countdown

Let me start out by saying Happy Thanksgiving and Happy Holidays! I know I'm a bit late for Thanksgiving, but the last month has been a blur!

I've been making final preparations and purchases for the trip to the other side of the earth. It is a daunting task, but I do not expect to have everything in order. 2009 is only a week away, which means I only have 7 days before there is no turning back. A few minor victories in my preparations include securing my Brazilian visa in Atlanta, GA and battling my Sony Scamcorder for the still images I had been taking. First, let me explain the camcorder (a.k.a. Scamcorder).

The Sony HDR-HC9 that I invested in for this project records high definition video on Mini DV cassettes. It also captures high definition still images and stores them on a memory stick. I purchased an 8GB Sony Memory Stick Pro Duo from someone on eBay that listed it as NEW. I received it quickly, though without the typical packaging you would expect from a new product. I began taking still photos and it seemed to be working properly as I could review the images on the camcorder perfectly. It wasn't until I tried to transfer them to my computer that I ran into problems. I tried to define these problems to the lovely folks a Sony (a.k.a. Phony) and they told me to send in my camcorder for their techinicians to have a look. I politely told them that their assistance was worthless.

Here is an example of the problems I had with still images. As you can see below, this is an almost stunning image of a rainbow in Asheville, NC. I could not recover any of the images I had taken over the last month. They all turned out like this:

I suspected that my memory stick was to blame rather than the camcorder or computer. After purchasing a NEW memory stick from a local retail store (about an hour ago), the problem was solved.

So, I have no pictures to share from my trek into Charleston last month, my trip to Atlanta two weeks ago to secure my visa, or my visit to Asheville where I received a crash course in video journalism and interviewing skills from some friends that are fanatical about films. I can, however, show you my visa since it is in my passport and my NEW memory stick actually works. Brilliant!

I don't know why, but the Brazilian visa takes up two entire pages of my passport. I'm ok with that, though, because those two pages let me explore all the wonders of the largest country in South America. Big country, big visa.


Why did I have to go to Atlanta to get the visa? Well, the requirements to obtain a Brazilian visa are fairly strict. I could have sent all my materials (including my passport) in the mail, but I did not want to surrender my passport to the US Postal Service so close to my departure date. I also have a 90 day window from the time the visa is issued until I first enter the country. Therefore, I could not have applied for my visa too far in advance because I would not have been able to enter Brazil in time, and my $130 visa would be worthless.

That is another point I want to make. Brazil, along with Chile and Bolivia, have a reciprocity policy, which means they charge U.S. citizens the same amount that the U.S. charges its citizens to obtain a visa. In other words, the U.S. charges a $130 visa application fee to all Brazilians. The reason we have to pay so much just to get into Brazil (and other countries with a policy of reciprocity) is because our government charges such an excessive amount. Thanks Uncle Sam.

For those interested in going to Brazil, my suggestion is to find the requirements on the Embassy's website, get all the necessary materials together, and then schedule an appointment with the consulate or embassy that serves your jurisdiction. The info on the website states that applications can be turned in on Monday and picked up on Friday. This is deceiving. I arrived at the consulate in Atlanta on Monday to drop off my application and was told that I needed an appointment. The next opening was Wednesday, and I envisioned being forced to stay in Atlanta far beyond the original week that I had planned. While I ended up falling in love with Atlanta and the incredible people that hosted me during my stay, I was not prepared for such a delay. I suppose these delays are something I need to get used to since "mañana" ("tomorrow") is the prevailing philosophy throughout most of Latin America.

As it turned out, after a brief (and rather enjoyable) interview on Wednesday morning, I could pick up my visa the following day. In spite of all the red tape, I managed to emerge victorious.

I'll stop here for the sake of blog brevity, but I could write a book on what the last two weeks of traveling taught me. Perhaps I'll get to it in another post. For now, it should suffice to say that Atlanta reminded me of the unforgettable human connections that arise from being an independent traveler, and Asheville reminded me that those human connections endure regardless of distance or time.