Brazil



By Micheala Bagley media type="file" key="Memo.wav" width="300" height="50" Podcast by Judah Van Zandt

media type="file" key="fksuadnlkf.m4a" width="300" height="50" A Walk in Rio People. They’re everywhere. Each year, the traditional Carnival festival is celebrated throughout Latin America. More than 500,000 foreigners alone come to witness the events and join in the party. Brazil is a largely catholic country, and so Carnival is centered around days and events widely recognized throughout the catholic community. The festival is celebrated for four days, starting 50 days before Easter, and ending on Fat Tuesday, the day before the beginning of Lent, which is a forty-day period of fasting before the celebration of Easter. I make my way through the plethora of revelers who fill the streets of Rio de Janeiro, long known as the Carnival Capitol of World, altering my course every few seconds as a new attraction catches my attention. The only thing that I can equate to this is downtown San Francisco on Chinese New Year, and my head begins to hurt as I imagine trying to weave my way through so many people in a car. It is impossible for me to concentrate on any one thing for more than a few seconds. There are games, bands, fast food carts, mini-restaurants, toy shops, and a number of striped whose contents I can only guess at. I finally see a break in the crowd, and make my way toward it. The crowd abruptly separates and I see the expanse of a dance floor opened up before me. Hundreds of couples are dancing the tango, the traditional dance of South America. Although they all seem to be dancing at the same pace, as I study each couple, it is apparent that they have each adopted their own specific style, as if each one is the expression of the personalities of the dancers. To my surprise, there are very few dancers who represent the typical tango team that I would expect. Some are well-dressed and professional, while others have simply stepped out of the crowd to join the dancers. Once I have successfully circumnavigated the ocean of onlookers that surrounds the dance floor, I make my way onward, toward a larger, more open expanse of grass. This one is not so crowded as the dance floor was, and I eagerly advance toward it. When I arrive at the field, I am shocked to see hundreds of children, ranging from toddlers to young adults, playing so many separate games of soccer that they are all a jumbled mess of feet and churned up grass. When I think about it, I do not recall seeing any children in the rest of the festival. It is evident that even the smallest of the children have already been playing for much of their lives, while the oldest of the children are as good as any professionals I’ve seen. The way that they all play, they seem to maneuver the ball with their wills, rather than with their feet. It is apparent that to these children, the sport is more than just a game. As I stand like an idiot, trying to tell the difference between each game, one of the balls rolls over to me from across the field, and I pick it up. It’s nearly flat, and molds to the shape of my hands as I squeeze it. A young girl runs up to me, panting. I ask her if the ball is hers, but she just tilts her head to the side and her expectant expression turns to one of confusion. I realize with a hiccup of laughter that she has no idea what I have just said. I toss her the sunken rubber skin and she turns back to her teammates. So many people here seem to enjoy life better than I am used to seeing. In America, it was not uncommon to see a middle-aged man driving a BMW in an Armani suit with a $300 blue tooth in his ear, and still have an expression on his face that would indicate he had just lost his job, his wife, and smelled a fart in the same two minutes. But here it is different somehow, like nobody has any worries. There are old couples I see in the crowd who dance and kiss as if they are newly-weds. I compare them in my mind to the typical married couple in America, and how statistics say that they are just as likely to stay married as to get divorced eventually, with a divorce rate of about 50 percent. It seems that Brazilians realize through their culture that it’s not money and power that decide whether or not your life is good, and I think Americans everywhere could learn a lot from that.

CULTURAL PICTURES- This photo was taken during the Carnival in Brazil. It is a huge celebration each year that really proves how important their culture is to them.

This is the Cristo Redentor that is placed at the top of one of the mountains in the Tijuca Forest in Brazil. It represents their strong religion and faith. This is one of the most visited tourist locations in Brazil.

This picture is of Brazil's soccer team. Soccer is highly praised in Brazil and is a large part of their distinct culture. It really shows their country's unique interests.

This is a famous dish in Brazil called Pão de queijo, which means cheese buns. This is an example of the different types of food that they enjoy in comparison to the type of food that we eat. This picture really shows how much people's tastes are influenced by where they live.

GEOGRAPHICAL PICTURES- This is a picture of the Amazon Rainforest in Brazil. It is a huge part of Brazil, physically and culturally. Unfortunately, there has been an enormous amount of deforestation of the rainforest that the government is allowing and the affects are now starting to show.

This is a picture of the peak, Sugarloaf, in Río de Janeiro, Brazil. It is a very interesting place to visit and learn about and is a pretty important part of Brazil's geography.

This picture is of the Cerrado vegetation in Brazil. It is a tropical savanna region and is the second largest of Brazil's major habitat types.

This picture is of the Serra do Mar in Southeastern Brazil, which are very unique, different mountains. No other mountain ranges are shaped like this one. Each mountain has its own specific name.

Amanda Faubel's Audio:

media type="file" key="Brazil_Essay0987.m4a" width="300" height="50"

Brazil Essay- By: Amanda Faubel  “Thank you for flying internationally with United Airlines. We hope that your flight was as pleasurable as it could be and that y ou enjoy your stay here. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Brazil.” As the large plane came to a complete stop, I lugged my over-packed, heavy suitcase down from the compartment above my seat. After flying six-thousand miles in the compact, claustrophobic seating arrangement, I was ready to finally reach our destination. Leaving the plane, the flight attendant eyed my name tag on my suitcase then promptly voiced a polite farewell, “Adues, Kylie. Desfrute da sua estadia.” Smiling back, I proudly congratulated myself for all the tedious hours spent studying Portuguese phrases and vocabulary in preparation for this trip. As I stepped out into the hallway of the airport to find my colleagues, the hot, humid air was not at all a surprise to me; With my traveling to various countries in order to work at preserving specific, endangered environments, I had come to know much information regarding climate, geography, and how each of these affect and are affected by an environment and it’s concerns. As I adjusted to the thickness of the air, I thought about my schedule for this week. Being an environmentalist in a foreign country at the age of 22, with a risky, long-awaited expedition ahead of you, was an amazing opportunity to gain more knowledge of unique habitats, while enjoying and experiencing the exotic culture of Brazil. Now that I had arrived, the urge to finally be a part of the stop to deforestation of the Amazon Rainforest was stronger than ever.  After meeting up with the other enthusiastic young adults from our organization that I flew with from California, we were each assigned a family that we would be staying with. Our guides believed that this would be a great way to carry out our tasks while seeing the cultures up close. We would also be able to ask for the people’s opinions on deforestation and how it is affecting their country. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by people, continuously filling the silence with unknown words that seemed to be pouring out of their mouths, much too fast for me to comprehend. I had just arrived in a small town on the outskirts of Río de Janeiro, where I would be staying. Music pulsed through the air and the crowd began to sway. Children gathered in the streets to dance together, broad smiles upon their faces. Pushing my way through the crowd, I couldn’t help but twirl around a bit to the entrancing melody. The ordinary throng of people quickly metamorphose into a full out celebration with everyone singing and dancing. Taking in the atmosphere, I noticed the alluring smells of acarajé, a traditional dish consisting of fried balls of shrimp and vegetables, that wafted through the air from the lanchonetes, a mixture between a café and a bar, that were placed at every corner in sight. Making my way through the crowd of vibrant colors and striking people, I saw a small sign with the name “Kylie” neatly printed across the center. It was held by a kind looking women who was wearing a beige, embroidered blouse, a purple skirt down to her ankles, and thin, golden sandals. She stood with her family, consisting of a husband and two sons, who were also dressed in beautiful, colorful clothing. A little nervous, I strolled toward the family. We hugged and kissed once I had introduced myself. Feeling greatly welcomed, we returned to their home, a petite house, complemented with a thriving garden, placed in the center of a populated neighborhood. I settled into the house and got my things situated. Juliana, the mother of the family, began to prepare dinner in the kitchen, filling the small, comfortable house with delicious smells of seasoned rice, sautéed vegetables, and meat. The two boys competitively played soccer on the grass in their backyard as the father, Gabriel, turned on las novelas, the nightly soap operas that everyone watched. We sat down to dinner and began talking about stories, family, culture, and the differences of Brazil from other countries that I had traveled to. I was more than happy to share my reason why I was here in the first place. Curious, I asked Gabriel and Juliana what their take was on the deforestation and how it is affecting them personally. “It is a problem,” Gabriel responded, with well-spoken english, “Although the government may think differently, there needs to be a stop to the amount of deforestation that they are allowing.” “It is affecting our climate and the quality of the air we’re breathing. If it keeps going like this, I don’t know what will happen,” Juliana replied. I then explained what I was planning on doing tomorrow; I, along with the others from the organization, would be protesting around the Cristo Redentor, the 130 foot-tall statue of Christ placed at the top of a mountain in the Tijuca Forest. With the amount of tourists, we would easily be able to get the word out. Plus, the location is perfect. Once we finished dinner, I immediately went to sleep in my welcoming, comfortable guest room, excited for the following day. We climbed up the tall mountain, the thick heat pressing down upon our shoulders. I was half way to the statue already, poster in hand, ready to finally express my feelings and hopefully teach others of what they can do to help decrease the rate of deforestation. Looking up, the giant statue towered over us. Nothing could even come close to explaining how I felt at that moment, halfway to my greatest accomplishment. This experience was different from anything I had ever done before, and would definitely be the start of a new, more valuable life style. From here on, I hope to make the most out of my life by participating in events that are worthwhile. I will remember this trip being the start of it all, of a change.