Another world
Salvador da Bahia, Brazil
It was a busy Saturday in San Francisco. Woke up later than expected after not a great sleep according to Jawbone, tried to fit all the summer clothes in a small suitcase, while Roomba was finishing cleaning up the apartment. Food was delivered in the usual 15 minutes by Sprig — not too many startups deliver fast on weekends — while I was double checking the immigration documents. Decided to throw a Tile in the luggage, maybe we would track it in the layover in Miami. Added a few more audiobooks on Audible and changed Facebook status to #beachmode. I wasn’t planning to see the beach too much but it’s my way of saying that I might not have Internet (!!!??). Finally got an Uber to the airport and boarded a long flight.
We met Lucas in a hot tropical night, while we were still recovering from jet-lag. He started speaking Italian and finally switched to a broken English confused by the fact that we don’t understand. Apparently, our French guide who arranged the meeting, mixed us up with some Italian tourists. Per his suggestion we were wearing white long-sleeved clothes, had no phones nor money nor jewelries. We wouldn’t be allowed to take any photos nor talk during the ceremony. To give us some context, he explained some history of Salvador, once the magnificent capital of Portugal’s New Colony which also used to be the first slave market in the New World. Majority of enslaved Africans in Bahia were brought from Sub-Saharan Africa, mostly from present-day Nigeria. The enslaved were forced to convert to Roman Catholicism, but their original religion, Yoruba, was blended with Roman Catholicism to make the syncretic religion known as Candomble which has survived in spite of prohibitions and persecutions. That night we were going to attend a ceremony of this religion.
The ceremony was taking place in a spacious barely furnished room, women were wearing long white dresses, everybody was dancing with tribal movements, clapping and singing, throwing flowers and popcorn around. As the evening progressed the room was getting hotter and the dancing more intense. At few points a participant would collapse, shouting and shaking uncontrollably. We learned later that some of the initiates become possessed by their Orishas and therefore they are carried inside the sanctuary. When they return they are dressed in beautiful costumes depicting the aspect of the deity that possesses them and start dancing again. It was amazing to see that in 21st century these people not only had a strong believe in their religion, but also felt that they can communicate directly with the spirits.
Next day we met Fafa, a respected local fisherman who lives in favela like the rest of Moradores da favela (more than a quarter of Salvador’s population). It was shocking to see how bad these houses looked like. Mostly built unauthorized, full of garbage and rats, usually having a single room for the whole family, they lacked finished roofs since there might be another child coming and the family might need to add a new room on top.
Some of the kids in favelas are going to public schools, but getting to college is almost impossible for them. Admission exams are usually passed by kids from middle and upper class who attend expensive private schools. Some people work in the city but earning so small salaries they can only dream of moving out of their favela. Some are fishermen who sell their catch to restaurants, others are just dealers or consumers of some variation of cocaine. Most of the people do not know if tomorrow they will be able to make money or if they can live the whole year. But time is passing slowly, kids are playing in amazing water under the bright all-year-long shining sun. This particular favela is right on the shore so people can enjoy the deep blue of the ocean. The rich also want to savor this magnificent nature, but they do it from high-rise modern buildings on the cliff above the favela. (One apartment there costing ~1 million USD). In order to have fast access to small private yachts and to avoid laying their eyes on the poor and dirty slum they put into service small funiculars connecting the entrance of each building straight to the piers.
Fafa is happy that he can earn enough money from fishing such as he can build a new house here in favela. Every day he is adding a few more bricks to it and also is getting help from some friends who work in the construction industry. He gives us a tour in his boat, D. jumps into the water, Fafa is laughing. We don’t understand Portuguese and obviously he doesn’t speak any foreign languages. After the boat ride they prepare lunch for us which consists of grilled fish, manioc and beans. I can feel the happiness in the kids’ eyes that some strangers are curious enough about their world. Among others, in the end Fafa receives as gift some printed photos of him and the family. They love so much looking at photos, but nobody wastes money on printed pictures when the food, clothes and other necessities are missing.
Another day we met Prentice, a local tile painting artist, part of middle class. We visited his beautiful house near lagoon in a quiet and safe neighborhood. He likes to put colors into glass, to paint the vibrance and the beauty of Bahia. The tiles show playful lines, amazing balance and power of the colors. Pretince welcomed us with a warm smile and showed us part of his work.
We spent the last hours of our Salvador visit strolling narrow streets and roomy squares of Pelourinho quarter (Historic Center) characterized by its fidelity to the 16th-century plan, the density of its monuments, and the homogeneity of its houses on a hilly and picturesque site of incomparable beauty.
On narrow streets full of vividly colored buildings, you can feel the smell of palm oil, the powerful rhythm of the drum corps, the strength of their beliefs and the joy of living.
