The Symbolism of Race and Place

Time here is beginning to fly by. I knew it would pick up sooner or later. My first few weeks here felt nice and slow. Each day I felt like I was transplanted to a new reality, learning and discovering the novelty in everything. But as I become more comfortable here - used to the buses, used to the beaches, used to the neighborhoods, used to the people - the pace inevitably quickens. Maybe there's a life lesson there somewhere, something like the more you remain curious and inquisitive about the little things in life, the more time you feel you have; and alternatively, the more you let each moment pass and the more rigid routine you fall into, the more days seem to just rush to conclusion. 

Anyway, this weekend was wonderful because my sister visited! We celebrated her birthday in style with two good days at the beach (replete with sun, long bus rides, fried cheese and Coke Zero) and with some great meals, courtesy of my host mom (she makes some ridiculously good cake) and this restaurant in the Barra neighborhood. We had a moqueca with camarao, and it's the kind of meal that gives you a little taste of heaven - fresh shrimp in a delicious sauce with rice, pepper, and a shrimp paste = ridiculous! We also visited some museums and Mercado Modelo, a big market where you can buy ANYTHING.  The museums we went to were a bit disappointing - specifically the Afro-Brazilian Museum. They were cool in the sense that they had a lot of information about Candomble and some nice art, but the great history of exchange between Brazil and Africa basically stopped at the slave trade. The rest of the exhibit focused on African history, which is nice, but something you can get anywhere. You would think that because of the amazingly interesting transnational, translocal impact over centuries, there would be more, but I guess that is an acknowledgment of the progress that still needs to be made. After all, the Zumbi statue, commemorating the man known for leading many Brazilian slaves to freedom, was built ONLY last year. 

The Mercado is a vibrant area, and my sister and I had an interesting discussion about whether the spirits of slaves who were chained in the very area we strolled through ever got their peace. It's interesting - the balance between the mystic quality of the universe, which makes one hope for the presence of protective spirits and angels still among us, while at the same time hoping the souls of slaves and tortured humanity ultimately get their rest. The market had no real trace of this history, which is what got me thinking...Anyway, we rode up and down the big Elevator in Salvador, which is in most tourist pictures of Bahia, and got some great views of the city.  We had ice cream and listened to live music, from one guy with his guitar to the bloco of all blocos, Olodum. First, I love how almost everyone does Bob Marley covers -Marley may have impacted the world as much as anyone in history. Where do you go where there's just no trace of Bob? Anyway, this one guy did a nice cover of some songs. Then, the other night Olodum was insane. We only took it in for about 40 minutes, but there was an incredible number of people (enough to make the always seemingly irritated cops drop some tear gas). They did a rendition of the South African national anthem, which made me very happy because I think that tune is just beautiful, and it sounds powerful when a big band like Olodum, with all the percussion and everything, performs it! They also put their little spin on it, which was nice. So after a busy few days, Chi left, and now I'm back to my contemplative self. And I was very interested in a performance I saw right before my sis arrived...

I finally met the very often discussed host family of Dave W. aka Chefao (even though it wasn't Chefao who got in touch with them on my behalf - triflin dude). They were great, a big group of characters really, cousin after cousin just coming from everywhere. We watched this group called Banda Nu Groove, led by one of the kids in the family. They were really good! I liked how they mixed pop with samba and everything. But the real interesting performance came right after with Bloco Afro Capoeira. This group was impressive. The singers were amazing and they had guys flipping all over the place on stage, balancing themselves on each others' shoulders - it was a real acrobatic display. There were berimbaus - the instrument they use in the capoeira rodas - everywhere. What was so interesting though was the imagery and symbolism in that performance. I found myself analyzing in between drinks and dancing. First they had this screen that served as a backdrop to the whole performance. It would switch from picture to picture, from "O Negro No Poder" which means "the black man in power" to Obama's senatorial picture to the word "AFRICA" in big letters to a picture of who I think was an anonymous black Bahian man (could've been someone famous I just don't know) to a picture of some contemporary African-inspired art to some Yoruba sayings. Meanwhile, in addition to the music, a masquerade performed on stage - bringing back childhood memories from trips to Naija - and a man regaled in a head dress and colorful outfit, looking as if he was doing some sort of traditional dance performed as well. Looking at all this unfolding, I thought to myself - sure all of these images are related, they're all part of a larger diasporic narrative between people of color. However, they're all really different as well. I looked deeper at the connection being made between racial identity and spatial identity.  There were moments when it felt like the focus was a kind of celebration of racial achievement, marked by cheers following a picture of our new president. And then it would switch abruptly to feeling like a celebration of African heritage, an ancestral, permanent home recreated in the moment. Yet for most people in the crowd that line of distinction between those objectives seemed blurred. There was a synergy in the symbolism, going beyond the fact that Obama is a black leader to his Kenyan background, his discrete connection to the continent from which emerged some of the great aspects of Bahian culture; and then, in the very culturally African moments, rejoicing in cultural realities that race denotes. Even though many Afro-Brazilians have lost the knowledge of their African ancestry, one's skin tone seems to be a major key to the emotional response to African imagery. This is interesting thinking about the US, and the fact that black people can conceptualize their racial identity without thinking about Africa at all.  For slave-descended African Americans, race and nation is very different.  I wonder if for some Afro-Brazilians or Afro-Bahians, it is possible to separate being black from a feeling of proximity to Africa.  While the music was awesome, and so diverse I could hardly keep track of the switch from genre to genre, I focused on the meaning of race and place during the performance, and couldn't help but feel the two, here, were inextricably linked...