BRAZIL: Ibirapuera Park

In my temporary digs, I am just a few blocks away from Ibirapuera Park, the Central Park of Sao Paulo. September 7th is National Independence Day in Brazil, so I took at stroll over to the Park. It was full of people jogging, picnic-ing, visiting the museums that are scattered throughout it, and generally enjoying themselves.

Picnics, with the city skyline in the background...

The coconut juice vendor...

I love the tall old trees...

Recycling - it's everywhere here! A very strong theme...

The "Monumento as Bandeiros." This bears a little more explanation. The Bandeirantes or "Flag Bearers" were racially-mixed people descended from unions between the Portuguese and the indigenous Tupi people. Some of these men formed bands that scoured the Brazilian interior in search of local people to enslave. Their round-ups could last a year or two, and they brought back groups of hundreds to thousands of people to sell into slavery in the cities that hugged Brazil's coast. The colonization of Brazil was heavily dependent on slave labor. With its small population, tiny Portugal couldn't hope to supply enough colonists to work and settle their huge south American possession. The slave trade - both from the Brazilian interior and from Africa - helped to fill this gap. Brazil's slave trade long outlasted slavery in the US and was much larger in scope, impacting 7 times more people.

The Brazilians I have talked to don't seem to view this as unsavory or an embarrassing chapter in their history. Instead, the Bandeirantes are considered to be a kind of cowboys or land pirates who significantly expanded the borders of Portuguese America. There is a major street in Sao Paulo called "Bandeirantes," and the monument below prominently celebrates them. This unconflicted attitude is related to the lack of political engagement that I see among Brazilians. (If this were Argentina, there would be daily protests at the monument and contentious debates on TV!). The stereotype of Brazilians as having a "don't worry be happy" attitude to life may be an exaggeration, but it's got some basis in reality.

For some reason, people can't resist climbing on the Monument, which produces some charming scenes...

The Monument with Ibirapuera's fountains in the background...

Public Behavior

Last weekend, my friend took me to the Mercado Municipal and the nearby shopping streets downtown. In the discount stores, people push by you in a very assertivee way! It didn't bother me, but my Brazilian friend was quite embarrassed, and she kept apologizing, shaking her head and saying "it's not educated behavior! They are not educated!"

A few days later, I was talking with some Brazilian friends about my experiences in Argentina and I mentioned the remarkable public politeness I had observed there: people giving up their seats on the subway to the elderly, helping people who seem ill or distressed, retrieving dropped items for strangers on the street, and so on. One of my coworkers attributed this strong social code to the educational system. Argentina has one of the broadest educational systems in Latin America, with very high literacy rates. My friend's argument was that one result of having broad-based education is that people acquire a sense of civic duty and literally learn how to behave. I found this fascinating - it's the kind of thing we don't tend to think about in the developed world - and the more I think about it, the more on-target it seems.

Food & Food Culture

I love discovering the tropical fruits that don't even exist back home; instead of defining them, my dictionary can only mumble that there is "no equivalent" in English. Here is the Caju fruit - it's strange, pulpy and milky to eat, but delicious in juice. The green nubbin on top is actually a "cashew nut" - or it will be, once it's properly processed. Until the nuts are roasted, they are actually toxic.

More beautiful fruit at the Mercado Municipal...

Palmito (hearts of palm) are a common ingredient in everything...

"Bacalhau" or salt cod: a reminder of Brazil's past as a Portuguese colony...

Like Argentina, Brazil has had significant Italian immigration. One of the most traditional lunches is a Mortadela sandwich...

There are strong regional differences in Brazil, but the cradle of the culture is around Bahia and Recipe in the northeast. Here is a vendor at a street fair selling traditional Bahian food and wearing traditional dress.

I had a fried manioc ball, with sauces and little dried shrimps. The green sauce was almost like a guacamole!

Bem-vindo a Sao Paulo!

Adding to this year's adventures, I'm now spending several weeks in Sao Paulo! My visit here is very different than my stay in Argentina: it's shorter, I don't speak the language (Portuguese), and my focus is necessarily more on work than it was in my foray further south. In some ways, then, I feel less immersed in the culture here than I was in Buenos Aires. On the other hand, I am fully incorporated into the local team here, and that has given me a richer and more connected experience.

Having these two experiences back to back has attuned me to the differences in Brazilian & Argentinian culture; here are a few:

In Argentina, the political engagement was palpable. Love her or hate her, President Kirchener was in the news constantly, and the press gave detailed coverage even to non-events like her trade delegation visit to Italy. Political protests are daily events in Buenos Aires, and they often close the major arteries, snarling traffic for hours. As the shadow of the dictatorship passes, young Argentinians increasingly feel empowered to work through the political system to shape their national future. When President Humala, a long-term ally of the Kirchener family, was elected in Peru, there was an excited buzz about the growth of a moderate-leftist block in the Southern Cone. The hard reality is that the Argentinian economy continues to go sideways, and many fear that a crisis may be looming. But coexisting with that sense of uncertainty is an earnest excitement among many Argentinians who feel newly empowered to shape their country's future.

The situation in Brazil is quite different. Brazilians have a reputation for being apolitical, and I've found this to be the case. People here don't raise the subject of politics with me, and when it does come up, the conversation doesn't go much deeper than head-shaking over political corruption and inadequate infrastructure. Party affiliation is weak here: ordinary people don't seem to identify with one political group or the other - a striking contrast with Argentina, where the political machines have formed youth groups and neighborhood associations that bring politics into people's daily lives.

If politics is not a dominant theme in Brazil, money is: Brazilians are known to be committed consumers. Public life in Sao Paulo revolves around its shopping malls, which are sprinkled throughout the city. Prime time television routinely airs shopping shows where the hosts walk through a store and talk about what is for sale and how much it costs; other Consumer Reports-type shows put manufacturers' claims to the test. Though superficial in one sense, the focus on spending is understandable and even exciting given the economic boom here and way it is raising scores of people from abject poverty into improved circumstances.
A final point of contrast: I find Brazilians to be forward-looking, less focused on history than on what the future may bring. For Argentinians, on the other hand, the past is still present in so many ways. In the 1930s, Argentina was one of the richest countries in the world, and the feeling of lost glory weighs heavy on the national psyche. The legacy of the dictatorship still has Argentinians talking of the need for justice and national reconciliation - even 20 years after its fall. The tango, Argentina's traditional dance, is based in feelings of loss and longing. "Saudade" meaning longing or nostalgia is a Brazilian word, but I feel it better describes the Argentinian world view. I feel a seriousness, an earnestness, and a traditionalism in Argentina that I don't feel in Brazil.

Brazil (or at least Sao Paulo) is all about the future: growth, development, and a new-found role on the world stage. Explosive growth has almost obliterated any trace of traditional architecture and any sense of the past. Brazilians are unconflicted about this: modern architecture is the rage - the newer and cleaner, the better. While Argentinians seem almost French in their traditionalism and their love of complexity, Brazilian Paulistas remind me of LA.

ARGENTINA: How People Act in Public

Like most nationalities (except we odd Americans), the Argentinians are not very "smiley" when they are out in public. Instead, they move through the public world with pretty neutral expressions on their faces - neither noticeably happy nor unhappy.

However, this lack of visible joy doesn't equate to a lack of concern for their fellow man. Argentinians are remarkably solicitious of each other in public - a fact that I've heard foreigners of all nationalities remark on. People unfailing give up their seat on the subway to pregnant women and the disabled. Taxi drivers and small shop owners will routinely round down your bill so you don't have to deal with small change, and wave you off with "don't worry about it." Last week, I dropped some papers while I was waiting for the subway. They were right at my feet - I could easily have picked them up - but two strangers gathered them up and returned them to me before I even had a chance to bend down. I gave a big smile of thanks and got the hint of a grin in return...Again, not real smiley, but very kind.

Another striking feature of public life is the extent to which public discourse occurs through unspoken language. The best way to illustrate this is to start with the tango. In a milonga or tango-hall, a man traditionally asks a woman to dance by locking eyes with her across the room. A moment passes, and then one of them stands up and approaches the other person to wordlessly accept the invitation. This sounds horribly corny until you experience it, and then it's actually nice. The custom does pose certain risks, though: I spent one afternoon stumbling around the dance floor with very experienced tango dancers after I continued to inadvertently accept their offers to dance.

This custom of non-verbal communication still persists in modern times & I've experienced it myself. One day, I was sitting on a crowded subway car in the seat intended for the disabled or the pregnant. I felt guilt-free - everyone around me was fully 'abled' and did not need my seat - until across the car, I suddenly noticed a pregnant woman standing near the door. I felt bad that I was taking the seat she rightfully deserved, so I was probably looking at her pretty intently when, across that crowded subway car, she made clear eye contact with me, smiled, and shook her head 'no thanks' in a friendly way. Wow, so that's how they do it! I felt like a real Argentinian.

Que Rico!

When Argentinians want to say that food is delicious, they say "Que Rico!" (It's so rich!). I heard this phrase alot, because people would use it to recommend that I try specific restaurants or certain dishes.

I soon discovered that the phrase is an interesting cultural Rorschach test because, though my conversation partner intended it as the highest praise, I didn't hear it that way at all. My American brain, influenced by our health-conscious society, went through an immediate and highly consistent chain of associations...

"rico" = rich = fatty = greasy = unpleasant = unhealthy

...and, assuming that my conversation partner was actually warning me AWAY from a dish, I would spontaneously start making an "oh that's too bad!" face.

Long after I learned that "rico" is actually a term of praise, I remained stuck in this associative chain. It probably made me an odd and slow conversation partner, because I would have to go through the whole rico-rich-fatty-ick-unhealthy-disappointed face routine before I could arrive at the speaker's real intention, and put on a happy face!

While I'm talking about food, I should probably tell you what they eat here - and, in brief, it's Italian food along with some unique Argentinian contributions. As I mentioned in another posting, Argentina (and in fact the whole Rio de la Plata confluence) was enormously impacted by immigration from Italy in the early 20th century; today, 70% of the people living in Buenos Aires are of European and primarily Italian descent. "Normal" food is therefore pasta, pizza, empanadas, and asada (or grilled meat). The pasta is better than I knew pasta could be, and so fresh that restaurant menus routinely have separate food categories on their menus for "House Pasta" (i.e., made here) and "Dry Pasta" (we bought it). On the 29th day of the month, it's customary for Argentinians of all economic levels to have gnocchi for dinner: those potato dumplings are cheap and filling so they became the traditional dish for making your paycheck stretch the final days until payday. One day I was walking past a restaurant and happened to see gnocchi among their list of specials on their chalkboard. My instant thought was - "oh yeah, I guess it IS the 29th" - and in the next moment, I felt like such a local!

The Big Question

Like all longer overseas immersions, this has been an emotional time with significant highs and lows. As some of you know, a painful point for me has been the lack of connection with my co-workers. Though everyone is cordial with me in the office, no one has invited me out for a meal, introduced me around the office, or really initiated any contact outside of saying hi in the morning. It's been lonely and - especially in the context of Latin culture - quite surprising to me. I couldn't understand what was going on.

Now, on the eve of my departure, I think I have figured it out, so now I'll tell it the best I can, in the only way I can.

I'll start with some snapshots that reveal one way that Americans are perceived by Argentinians:

• In Argentina, when a person arrives at the office, they go around and kiss all their friends and co-workers on the cheek. Sometimes they exchange a few sentences; other times they have a longer conversation. In either case, it's a lovely way to acknowledge each other's presence. Once when a co-worker and I were exchanging our morning kiss, she made the off-hand comment: "they don't do this in the US, do they? That's so cold!"
• I really like to chat with cab drivers in Latin America. They often have interesting things to say, and it's a great way for me to practice my Spanish. On several occasions, cab drivers in Argentina have told me "you're so friendly! Usually Americans are so cold. They just want to go somewhere; they don't want to talk."
• Finally, my last weekend here, a co-worker invited me out for lunch. We had a lovely time eating asada in a traditional grill restaurant and chatting. At one point, I told her that I want to use my Spanish to do volunteer work when I go back home - probably in a hospital where I can help patients who don't speak English. She said, "I hear volunteering is really common in the US. That's not a tradition in Argentina at all. You know, they say Americans are so cold but on the personal level they can be so kind."

Now to share some history: in the 1990s, Argentina emerged from dictatorship to experience spiraling inflation and a growing debt with the IMF. Enamored with neoliberal economic policies and heavily influenced by the IMF and US government, president Menem sold off state-owned entities, primarily to foreign investors, to the point where the state virtually ceased to exist.

As the crisis reached its peak in 2001, bank accounts were frozen to prevent a run on the banks; a new currency, the Argentino, was introduced in an effort to combat inflation; and stores were looted as people reached a point of desperation. With its advocacy for neoliberal policies and its leadership at the IMF, the US was viewed as a major player in causing this crisis. It appeared we had pushed neoliberalism on Argentina and then stood by as a society imploded.

In the US, we have a remarkably efficient society that can also be viewed as ruthlessly efficient and cold. I think this perception has in some instances impacted how people received me here. I wasn't included because people assumed that knowing them simply wasn't that important to me. During lunch with my co-worker, I finally got up the nerve to ask her why my companeros hadn't reach out to me more. She said, "oh we figured you were just here to study Spanish and that was your focus." Well - yes - but that didn't rule out wanting to make friends too.

In my new job with Latin America, I've encountered remarkably little anti-American sentiment, but I think this more subtle undercurrent is probably often there, invisible but real. To some extent, it's a logical reaction to the history of the region and the role developed economies have played here. Now that I know the attitude is there, I hope to work against it with my own personal diplomacy. In a goodbye note I sent to my co-workers here, I said "En Buenos Aires, he tenido una gran oportunidad de mejorar mi español, pero las personas son siempre más importante que un idioma" (In Buenos Aires, I've had a great opportunity to improve my Spanish, but people are always more important than a language). I hope this is the beginning of a better understanding between us all.  

Buenos Aires, looking up...

Buenos Aires is a city where you have to remember to look UP. There are so many fantastical towers, statues, and carvings to see. Like these guys keeping the time...

This is my favorite building...

Close-ups of the Statues...

A different view of my favorite building. There are Patagonian penguins standing on iceflows at some of the corners...

And another view of my favorite building - can you see the giant winged creatures hanging over the edge of the building? There are 3 in this picture...

Changing gears - here is maybe a former eyeglasses shop?

 

Today, this is a store in a trendy neighborhood. When I looked up, I realized it used to be a stables...

 Near my Spanish school...(the Ministry of the Navy building)...

This was an ironworks in the 1800s...

General Belgrano, presiding over a beautiful day...

Revisiting the Teatro Colon

After I saw the Magic Flute at the Teatro Colon, I returned another day and took a tour. Now I'm armed with more information..

In the picture below, look at what appears to be a series of black metal screens: these are the boxes that used to be reserved for widows, since it was considered socially inappropriate for them to appear in public during their mourning period...

This is a picture looking straight up at the ceiling. When the theater was constructed, they built a "heaven" here; that is a sort of catwalk where singers can stand above the audience and sing so that their voices come from on high like angels or heavenly hosts. In this picture, the 'heaven' is the gold rim immediate surrounding the central light. I remember hearing this heavenly effect in the performance I attended, immediately followed by the sound of heavy tramping footsteps in the ceiling over my head! Either these angels were pretty clumsy or sound travels in unintended ways!

It's just so lovely...

Fun Fact

In Argentinian slang, "che" basically means "dude;" it's a term that gets liberally sprinkled through most conversations. When someone wants to parody Argentinian Spanish, they use flamboyant hand gestures and an emphatic "THAT's a SPICY a-MEATball" style of speech. They also throw in the word "che" alot.

So - a fun fact - the historical person Che Guevara was from Argentina, and of course "Che" wasn't his real name - Ernesto was. When we refer to him as Che, we are basically calling him Dude (his nickname). How it possible that I didn't know this before?!

A visit to Uruguay (part 1)

I recently took a weekend trip to Colonia, Uruguay - a historic city that is a Unesco World Heritage site. Colonia is only a one-hour boat ride from Buenos Aires, and there is a strong historic relationship between the cities: both of them were founded in the 1700s as smuggling centers to siphon off some of the vast wealth flowing out of the silver trade in Bolivia and Peru. Control of Colonia passed back and forth between the Spanish and the Portuguese, and (charmingly) both styles of traditional architecture exist side by side in the city. In the picture below, the Spanish built the house on the left (flat roof, adobe) while the Portuguese built the one on the right (pitched tile roof, stone).

Here are some other views of the old town...

I love all the slanting walls and doorways in this picture...

The old square, with the church towers peeking up over the trees...

View of the Rio de la Plata from the old town...

There is a beautiful ramble along the river...

Most of the old buildings are still heated with wood. Here you can see the daily delivery...

A fun thing to do in Uruguay is to try and spot a Cachila. "Cachilas" are antique cars such as Studebakers and Model A Fords that are still in active use. Uruguay was a prosperous country in the first half of the 20th century and during that time people imported cars from Europe and the US. In the long economic decline that has followed, many Uruguayans have been forced to maintain and use what in other circumstances would have been museum pieces. Here is a cachila on the street in Colonia...

Such a sleepy little town. I enjoyed this view of 3 cats all piled up for a nap...

A final view of the lovely old town...

Autoayuda

Portenos (people from the port city of Buenos Aires) have a well-documented fascination with self-help and self-exploration. As any guide book will tell you, there are more therapists per capita here than in any other city in the world (including New York!). Apparently this started in the 1940s, when Argentina under Juan Peron actively encouraged post-war immigration from Germany as a way to "improve" the racial composition of the country (and that's a story in itself). As eastern Europeans flowed into the country, they brought with them the tradition of Freudian analysis, and it spread like wildfire.

Today, you also see this desire for self-improvement showing up in other ways. For example, even the smallest bookstores have a significant "Autoayuda" (Self Help) section. Eastern philosophy (or perhaps Eastern Philosophy Lite) has also really taken off here as an alternative path to enlightenment; a surprising number of stores specialize in selling crystals, prayer beads, incense, Tibetan paraphrenalia, and books about the religions of Asia. New Age lingo has also penetrated the language here, as it has in the States. "Buenas ondas" - meaning "good waves" or "good karma" - is a common way to wish someone good luck. At first, I assumed this was an expression used only by the young and hip; however now that I've had a 70 year old taxi driver wish me "buenas ondas," I know differently.

Money & Paying

I've been fascinated to see the practices around money and shopping in Argentina. Here are some tidbits I wanted to share:

• cost of a subway ticket: 1 peso; cost of admission to most museums: also 1 peso. This equates to 25 cents! Relative to what other things cost, this is very cheap, and I assume the government must provide significant subsidies. When I mentioned this to my Argentinian friend, she rolled her eyes and said - well in the case of the subway, they just don't put any money into it! It's true that the subway system and even many of the subway cars that are still in use were literally built in the 1910s & 20s. Like many of the buildings in this country, they are lovely, full of character, and gradually falling apart.
• It's common to pay for groceries on an installment plan. "Cuotas" or installments was one of the first words I learned after I arrived here, because the cashiers in the grocery store routinely asked if I wanted to "pagar todo o pagar en cuotas."
• Also routine are credit card promotions: if you pay with a certain card on a certain day, you get X% off your purchase. The concept may not be that foreign, but the number of offers is. The picture below is from my neighborhood grocery, and the very tall sign in the background shows the current bank card offers. Look how many there are! You can't even see them all in this picture.

• Businesses here are typically small & often family-run. Because they aren't operating with alot of cash on hand, it's somewhat gauche if you pay them with a big (or even medium) bill: in giving you change, they will be clearing out their register. This is so problematic that businesses sometimes just refuse to accept a payment with a large bill. I have a vivid memory of once waiting in line to pay for a tango class. The Argentine woman in front of me tried to pay with a relatively large bill and was denied. After she had left the store, the cashier rolled her eyes and said in effect "Hm! She thought she could get away with that!" That's how big (or biggish) bills are viewed here - as an imposition and practically a scam. It probably doesn't help that fake 100 peso bills are in routine circulation, leading people to reflexively hold your large bill up to the light to verify its authenticity.
• As you can imagine, the big bill conundrum often arises in taxis. Once I had to pay a taxi driver with a 100 peso note (equivalent of $25). Because he couldn't change it, we drove to a gas station that his friend owned and his friend made the change as a favor. In a case like this, dishonest "taxistas" will apparently tell you to provide a smaller bill or they're going to keep your 100. Thankfully this has never happened to me and I'm quite careful not to test my luck. Anyway, part of my morning routine is to scan my wallet to make sure I have small bills on hand. If I don't, I make a trip to the grocery store and get change by paying with a 100. Because the grocery is part of a national chain, they are equipped to break a larger bill.

Tango show!

Recently, I decided I couldn't leave Buenos Aires without seeing a Tango Show. I opted for the most authentic one I could, since many of them are giant, glitzy, Vegas-like affairs that don't interest me.

This one took place in the basement theater of the Cafe Tortoni - one of the opulent old Confiterias of turn of the century Buenos Aires. Here are some pictures of the cafe itself...

Turning to the tango show, let me give a little context about the dance itself. Tango was developed in a poor, immigrant neighborhood of Buenos Aires called La Boca. This is the port district where the dockworkers lived, and tango was a dance that prostitutes did with their prospective clients. The show was pretty upfront about this, as you can see...

As you would imagine of music born in the brothels, tango is quite melancholy - it's often compared to the Blues in the US. In fact, the lyrics sometimes express such a deeply cynical view of life that they will make your hair curl. Here's a famous example - a tango called Aquaforte - first in English translation and then in Castellano.

It's midnight. The cabaret's wakin' up. A lot of women, flowers, and champagne The eternal sad party of those who live to the beat of a tango is about to begin. I'm chained by forty years of life, with a grey-haired head and an old heart: Today I can watch with a lot of sorrow what at other times I saw through rose-colored glasses. The poor taxi dancers, Stupified by kisses, Stare at me, as if strangers, With curiosity. They don't recognize me anymore. I'm lonely and old. There's no light in my eyes ... Life is getting shorter. An old rake that spends his money Getting Lulu' drunk with his champagne Today he denied a raise to a poor worker Who asked him for one more piece of bread. That poor woman who sells flowers who was the queen of Montmartre in my time,  Offers me, with a smile, some violets, Maybe to make my loneliness less blue. And I think about life: mothers that suffer, children that roam with neither bread nor a roof, selling newspapers, for two cents ... How sad it all is! I feel like cryin'!

Es medianoche. El cabaret despierta. Muchas mujeres, flores y champán. Va a comenzar la eterna y triste fiesta De los que viven al ritmo de un gotán. Cuarenta años de vida me encadenan, Blanca la testa, viejo el corazón: Hoy puedo ya mirar con mucha pena Lo que otros tiempos miré con ilusión. Las pobres milongas, Dopadas de besos, Me miran extrañas, Con curiosidad. Ya no me conocen: Estoy solo y viejo, No hay luz en mis ojos... La vida se va... Un viejo verde que gasta su dinero Emborrachando a Lulú con su champán Hoy le negó el aumento a un pobre obrero Que le pidió un pedazo más de pan. Aquella pobre mujer que vende flores Y fue en mi tiempo la reina de Montmartre Me ofrece, con sonrisa, unas violetas Para que alegren, tal vez, mi soledad. Y pienso en la vida: Las madres que sufren, Los hijos que vagan Sin techo ni pan, Vendiendo “La Prensa”, Ganando dos guitas... Que triste es todo esto! Quisiera llorar!

As they say, "tango is a sad thought that is danced" ("El tango es un pensamiento triste que hasta se puede bailar"). If you ask Argentinians whether they like tango, some of them will invariably say "no, it's way too depressing! I like rock!"