The air was thick and wet and hung down from the roof like a blanket, while music, percussion, and young voices singing, reverberated around the hall. It was nine in the morning. Inside it must have been one hundred degrees as the sun poured its blessings down on the corrugated tin roof that covered our little gathering. Little? No, not little. Groups had come from all over Sao Paulo to take part, and each group had brought its own collection of singing, dancing and chanting fans. I sat quietly on my chair in the corner trying to concentrate as I strapped my wrist with an old bandage. What was I doing here? I was the only gringo in this colorful mass of people. My blonde hair and green eyes earned me the nickname, ‘Alemão’ (German), and wherever I went in Sao Paulo, Brazilians would shout out their friendly greeting, “Oi Alemão! Tudo Bem?” (Hi German! How are you?) Now here I was a year and a half after the day I had first arrived in Brazil, and I was about to enter my first competition. I tried not to watch the other athletes as they got ready, somersaulting, handstanding, twisting and flipping, showing their moves to each other. I tried not to think too much. In a short while I would meet them in the ‘Roda’, literally ‘circle’, the traditional meeting place for those who practiced the Brazilian art of Capoeira. Capoeira is uniquely Brazilian. According to tradition it was created by the African slaves who were brought to Brazil by the Portuguese. Prohibited from fighting amongst themselves, the slaves developed a fighting style that appeared to be a dance. Capoeiristas would glide and float around each other using elaborate movements, rolling, cartwheeling, twisting and falling, always, always to the sinuous rhythmic twang of the Berimbau, an instrument made from the thin branch of a tree, a piece of wire from a nearby fence, and a dry cabaça, a hollow fruit found in the Amazon. To their white owners, the slaves would appear to be singing and dancing, but inside the circle of clapping and chanting spectators, two capoeiristas were honing their fighting skills, preparing for the day when they would rise up and fight against their oppressors. “Oi Alemão. Tudo bem?” I looked up. My mestre (capoeira master) stood in front of me. Tio João was a native Baiano who had moved to Sao Paulo with his mestre fifteen years ago. Capoeira was his life. Capoeira had taken him out of the favelas, the slums of Bahia, and given meaning to his life. Now he taught capoeira at a small academy in Sao Paulo where he shared the knowledge passed down from his mestre, and his mestre’s mestre, and the mestres before him. “Oi Tio. Tudo bem.” The drum beat, steady four on four, bounced around the hall, deep, hollow, it sprouted from the atabaque and supported the melody coaxed from three gaudy berimbaus and two shimmering tambourines. The crowd was silent now. They waited for the mestre to start his ladainha, his song of praise to capoeira, to his mestre, and to the great capoeiristas of the past. Around me competitors clad in white swayed gently. Letting the rhythm carry them, a few started the ginga, the characteristic movement associated with capoeira. Into this silence strode the opening words of the ladainha;
Bom dia, meus senhores
Bom dia, minha senhoras
Vamos dar início à festa
Que está em cima da hora
A voces que aqui estao
Um minuto de atençao
Vou fazer a minha prece
Que eu nao sou nenhum pagao
Agredeço o Criador
Que me deu inspiraçao
Aqueles que me ofender
Eu respondo com perdao
Educaçao nao tem fronteira
É um realidade
É o que todos devem usar
Para o bem da humanidade
Isto é uma liçao
Pra quem quiser aprender
Quem nao vive para servir
Nao serve para viver
Quanto mais vive se aprende
Saber nunca é demais
Capoeira é no Brasil
Quero ver quem joga mais ra, ra, vive meu deus...
Desde de pequenininho
Eu ouvia meu pai falar
Que quando eu crescesse
Ele ia me ensinar
Me ensinar a jogar...
Good day, my good sirs
Good day, my good ladies
Lets start the celebration
That is ready to start
To you that are here
A minute of your attettion
I will offer up my prayer
That I am not a pagan
I thank the Creator
Who gave me inspiration
Those who offend me
I respond with pardon
Education has no boundaries
This is a reality
And all should use it
For the good of humanity
This is a lesson
For those who want to learn
He who does not live to serve
Has no reason to live
The more you live, the more you learn
You can never know too much
Capoeira is from Brazil
I want to see who plays the best
Since I was a small child
I heard my father say
That when I grew up He would teach me
Teach me to play...
No comments:
Post a Comment