Some things I learned today, that Praca da se, is pronounced Pracha da se and that Porte de Barra is Porte de Baha. The Portuguese language does not necessarily fancy Rs. I have also learned that where I live in Pelourinho is where Michael Jackson filmed “They don’t really care about us” and as I sat in the square where he shot his song, a couple of shops played his song, I hear they play the video all the time. I have also learned that Pelourinho is one of the poorest places in Salvador, the majority of the favelas are here; I do not mind living here, I only hope that my life will be safe. 2 out of 2 nights I have been here, there have been a series of gunshots that have been going off at the midnight hour; last night after a second set went off I went under my bed, hoping no stray would come through my wide open windows. The memory of the 1986 Museveni Coup flooded back. The gunshots have been so close, and I know that there are gang fights happening outside my building; however first night here a Police man had his pistol out and pointing towards some street children trying to make money in the night from guarding peoples cars.
As I write, there is some fine Reggae music playing outside my window at the Centro Historico I am certain that in a few hours there will be silence and more gunshots, apparently I have to get used to this. Salvador and Bahia in general are the center of Music in Brazil, it’s where the ex-slaves from Africa settled, and music is a big thing here. In Pelourinho alone there are Music record stores all over the place, people play and dance samba everywhere. Today I witnessed a Capoeira show at the Terriero de Jesus square, the main player had a fine body that we ladies just stood frozen. He had the right portions of muscles and he knew it.
Spent the day at Porte de Barra with two ladies one from Trinidad and one from America, we were called all sorts of things from Obama to Caribe ( Caribbean).I wonder why people call us Obama, even in Cairo I got called this- at least try calling me Michelle.
At the beach, we got hit on, a man chased his friend in anger when he tried to talk to us; he was guarding what was his. For some reason, this hawker who thought he was insulting me when he called me white -( because I had refused to buy anything from him)- pulled a sumbusa for me as my Mother would call it and stormed away.
At the beach, we got hit on, a man chased his friend in anger when he tried to talk to us; he was guarding what was his. For some reason, this hawker who thought he was insulting me when he called me white -( because I had refused to buy anything from him)- pulled a sumbusa for me as my Mother would call it and stormed away.
Highlight of my day was sitting on the bus back to Pelourinho and this guy asks if I am American. I say no, but I live there. He goes on to tell me he is from New York, an artist learning Portuguese and impressed by the edge Art possesses in Bahia. We got talking and he mentioned someone of keen interest to me – His Portuguese teacher who is teaching street children English. Just the kind of person I want to meet for my research.He said he would hook me up for a talk with this teacher. I already love Salvador, it surely is the unbeaten path like a friend said, All the Child rights news I get on my Google alerts is on Rio de Janeiro, Sao Paulo and Brasilia. Salvador is raw; maybe it is here that I will find the marrow. Slowly by slowly I am making progress even when I am barely aware of what is happening. Kimberly told me today was Friday, I was floored. Am still logy, half of it is because I am fatigued, the other half stems from the fact that am still trying to comprehend my presence in South America and Brazil for this matter. Maybe tomorrow when I awake, it will all be clear, for now am grateful for baby steps.
