By Alexa DeLeon

Going abroad to Brazil was something I did not expect to do. For those who know me, I am extremely comfortable being comfortable. Getting out of my comfort zone is not something I ever look forward to and often not something I voluntarily like to do.

However, stepping out of my comfort zone became surprisingly easy here in Bahia. Whether it was asking questions to the speakers during lectures, going to the beach, attempting to speak to people in Portuguese, dancing, or jumping from the boat into the water (with a life vest, of course), I found myself embracing new experiences with an open heart.
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Coming in, I knew I wanted to let loose and create new memories, but I really did not see myself doing the things I did during my time in Bahia. The first workshop was on Capoeira with Mestre Sapoti during the first week. I did not want to participate; I just wanted to watch because it was interesting, but I knew it was something I would not do. The instructor made sure we all participated and even had us go in the middle to do some of the steps. I could not say no because it seemed like everyone else was okay with it. I noticed myself being stiff and not really engaging, but I still participated. I was intrigued but did not put in all the effort I should have, though at the time, just being part of it was enough to say I did it.

​The next activity that was extremely out of my comfort zone was the Afro-Brazilian dance workshop with Antonio Cozido. I have two left feet, and it takes me a long time to learn the steps. Dancing is one of my least favorite things to do because I feel like everyone is watching me make mistakes. This workshop was not what I expected at all. I attempted to dance, pushing through my discomfort and insecurities. The instructor had a lot of patience with me, which brought me a lot of comfort and helped me accept the discomfort. In the end, I realized how fun it was. It was intimidating in the beginning, but I slowly started to let loose, not only to participate but to show the group that although I did not really want to do it, I was trying.

At the beginning of the program, I used Google Translate every day to communicate with my host family. I was afraid to make mistakes and make a fool out of myself, so to keep it safe, I used the translator. Meals at the dinner table were silent, and to me, silence is extremely uncomfortable, but attempting to speak a language I was not fluent in was even more so. As the days went on, the conversations at the dinner table became more verbal. I became more comfortable not only attempting to understand but to speak it too.
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One of the most recent things I did was jump off the boat into the water. I do not really know how to swim, and I freak out when I cannot touch the bottom, but surprisingly, I had a burst of adrenaline and wanted to jump in with my friends. They told me if I did not know how to swim, I should not jump in, but I really wanted to and ended up wearing a life vest. Never in my 20 years of life would I have done that, but being in a different country, specifically in Brazil, helped me so much.

​Throughout the weeks, I noticed how uncomfortable people in Brazil have been for years to be where they are today. Learning the history of slaves, the struggles of women, and the number of battles that must be fought today taught me that life is meant to be uncomfortable. Humans are supposed to step out of their comfort zone. For me, stepping out of my comfort zone changed my entire mentality. I think getting that rush of adrenaline was thanks to the struggles I heard about during the lectures here in Brazil. Professor Clarice Mota, the speaker for the Racism and Health in Brazil lecture, talked to us about the struggles of black students. As I reflect, I understand how uncomfortable an education is for them, not because they do not want it, but because it is something new, and they must fight against the prejudices that surround them. Learning about women’s reality and Lei Maria da Penha has helped me understand how uncomfortable reporting abuse is and how uncomfortable one must be to make a change.

My small out-of-comfort accomplishments might not have made much of an impact, but I choose to believe that these experiences will stay with me forever. My time in Brazil has motivated me to leave comfort behind and embrace being uncomfortable as a positive thing to help myself and others grow. This has been my favorite study abroad program, and it is because of the memories I made and the experiences I gained through my discomfort.
 
Sources:
Lecture on “Women’s relaity and Lei Maria da Penha in Brazil” with Major Denice Santiago. May 24, 2024.

Lecture about Racism and Health in Brzil with Prof. Clarice Mota. May 24, 2024.

Workshop on Capoeira with Maestre Sapoti at Aliancia Francesa. May 17, 2024.
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Workshop about Afro-Brazilian Dance with Antonio Cozido. May 18, 2024 

By Morgan Van Beck

As a double major in Political Science and Hispanic Studies with a minor in Latino/Latin American Studies, I thought that I had a pretty good grasp on Latin American history and culture. While this was not incorrect, I was not aware of just how complex Brazil is and how little I really knew about it. None of my Hispanic Studies classes touched upon Brazil, and aside from speaking Portuguese rather than Spanish, it has a very distinct culture and history from the rest of Latin America. What I’ve learned while living in Salvador and traveling around Bahia is that a history of repression and inequality breeds resistance, which in turn creates culture. In short, resistance is culture. 

It helps to turn back the clock to 1500 when the Portuguese first landed in Bahia and started the vicious process of colonization. This led to the forced enslavement and relocation of millions of Africans to Brazil to work on plantations and in mines (Periera 2020). Hundreds of years later, in 1888, Brazil was the last country in the western hemisphere to abolish slavery (Periera 2020). The fact that it took so long to abolish slavery shows how integral it was to the Brazilian economy and how many salves suffered. Salvador is the city in Brazil with the highest percentage of the population being Afro-Brazilian. “Bahia is a state marked by racial inequality,” but it is also marked by a strong presence of traditions of African origin (Pinho 2020, 1). While in Salvador, we saw not only this inequality, but also many cultural elements that sprouted from African traditions and were preserved as a form of resistance. 

A prime example of resistance is salve revolts and the formation of quilombos. While in Minnesota, we learned about historic slave revolts in Bahia and about the quilombo communities that were formed by escaped slaves (dos Santos 2024). Quilombos had contact with the outside world and actively traded, but they were also perfect microcosms to preserve African traditions and resist the cultural impositions of the Europeans. We visited Quilombo Kaonge while in Brazil and were able to see for ourselves how the descendants of escaped slaves maintained the traditional practices that their ancestors preserved. We had the opportunity to learn about the cough syrup and palm oil that they produce and to learn from them about the importance of resisting cultural imposition. 

Carnival might be Brazil’s most famous event. People around the world know what carnival is, but they don’t know where it came from. Carnival has roots in African music, dance, and performance, and when we went to the carnival museum, we learned all about the lesser-known African history (at least for people in the US) of carnival. At the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth century, whites were threatened by African cultural elements in carnival and did their best to “civilize” carnival by emphasizing more European elements (Pinho 2020, 7). However, carnival still retains its African influence. This pattern repeats across Brazilian cultural elements. In response to repression by white elites, Afro-Brazilians resisted and preserved their African-rooted traditions while creating a rich Brazilian culture.

Another example of resistance becoming culture is the practice of candomblé. Candomblé is a religion brought to Brazil by slaves from Africa. We were first introduced to it in the book Crooked Plow, where many of the characters actively practiced candomblé (Vieira Junior 2019). Honestly, I didn’t entirely understand candomblé while we were reading the book back in Minnesota, but since being here, we have had a chance to learn a lot more about the religion that is also a symbol of resistance. Rather than submit to pressure by the Catholic church, African slaves were able to preserve their rich religious history. Now, Candomblé is celebrated as part of Bahian identity. We saw statues of orishas on our ride from the airport and now, after visiting various candomblé temples and hearing lectures about it, we have come to understand just how important it is to life here. ​

Brazilian music and dance are also heavily influenced by African traditions brought by slaves and preserved as a form of resistance. Now, Afro-Brazilians honor and remember their ancestors by continuing to learn these styles of music and dance. We were lucky enough to participate in a samba class, where we immediately noticed strong African rhythms and drumming in the music. We also went to a percussion workshop with Mario Pam, who taught us that drumming and music were not only used as tools of resistance by slaves and their immediate descendants, but by modern Brazilians as well. Afro-Brazilians today are still using music to express themselves and decry the inequalities that they suffer. This means that modern culture is still being shaped by Afro-Brazilian resistance.

Like percussive music and samba dancing, capoeira is another distinctive element of Brazilian culture that has its roots in African traditions. Capoeira is an Afro-Brazilian martial art with elements of dance, music, and acrobatics. It exists today because of efforts by Afro-Brazilians to preserve and promote their culture and heritage. Before coming to Brazil, I had no clue what capoeira was, but now, I see it everywhere. We participated in two Capoeira workshops (one in Salvador and one in Lencois) and saw it performed as part of a folkloric ballet. However, its pervasiveness in culture means that we’ve also seen people doing capoeira at the beach, in parks, and in other public places. It’s just one more element of popular Brazilian culture that comes from resistance efforts by slaves and their descendants.  

​After nearly three weeks in Brazil, one of the things that I noticed the most was the prevalence of Afro-Brazilian resistance, which forms critical parts of Brazilian culture. Almost every day we saw examples of it, and they were not limited to the subjects I discussed above. We also saw Afro-Brazilian resistance in educational institutions, graffiti/street art, and so many other things. Race, inequality, and culture are all woven together into a complex knot. The oppression and inequality that Black Brazilians faced led them to create a rich culture of resistance that they are still contributing to today as inequality and racism continue to take new forms. Brazilian culture is distinctly marked by African traditions introduced by slavery, and it would not be the same without them. Therefore, to fully appreciate Brazilian culture, we need to understand its roots in African tradition and Afro-Brazilian resistance. 

Sources:
Dos Santos, Pedro. “Slave Revolts in Bahia.” YouTube. Uploaded by Pedro dos Santos, 13 February 2024, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WO_syIfkYVQ.

Pereira, Anthony. Modern Brazil a very short introduction. Oxford, United Kingdom: Oxford University Press, 2020.
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Pinho, Osmundo. “Race and Cultural Politics in Bahia.” In Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Latin American History, 2020.
 
Vieira Junior, Itamar. Crooked Plow. Verso Books, 2019. 

Morgan Van Beck is a senior Political Science and Hispanic Studies double major with a minor in Latino/Latin American Studies. She is originally from Sartell, Minnesota. Morgan's most formative educational experience was traveling around Guatemala with the Guatemala Human Rights Commission, which inspired the theme of her senior distinguished thesis: human rights abuses in post-conflict societies. Morgan recently received a Fulbright grant to teach English in Colombia and will be moving there shortly after graduation. ​

By Hailee Thayer

In the two weeks that we’ve been in Bahia, Brazil, we have learned more about the culture and political landscape than we could ever have in the classroom. We have been staying with a host family, which allowed us to immerse ourselves fully in Brazilian culture. I first started noticing Brazilian Elections and politics.

On the first day, we were driving from the airport to the hotel. There was a lot of graffiti, but one that stuck out to me was the phrase “Fora Bolsonaro” which translates to “Out Bolsonaro” in English.

This has still stayed with me and shows the general political leaning of the city. This dynamic is even present in my host home. When I returned home one night, I went to sit with my host dad to watch soccer. At first he turned on the news and turned-on CNN. The Republican Primaries were on, and the topic of conversation turned to politics. My host dad asked if Trump still had a following in the United States, I responded yes and used it as an opportunity to see which way he leaned. I asked if he liked Bolsonaro, and he replied “No, I think he is a bad ruler and a bit authoritarian”. This is a common thought with everyone that I’ve interacted with. I also learned that Lula, served as the Brazilian President from 2003 to 2010, was instrumental for rural communities, specifically for education. Lula and Dilma Rousseff introduced quotas to the Brazilian education system for higher education. These quotas are there in order to diversify the population of higher education institutions. They have greatly increased the number of Black students that attend both public and private universities. On that same train of thought, gender quotas have increased the presence of women in Brazilian Political Parties. But despite the quota, the number of women elected to government positions remains low (Gatto and Wylie 2021, 3). The representation of women in politics is an important issue to me, and to see gender quotas working (even if the number of women in government positions is still what we consider to be low), it gives me hope for the future.

Another important aspect of Brazilian culture is Carnaval. Many people think of Carnaval as a big parade with extravagant costumes, but it is so much more than that. Carnaval used to be a celebration for Brazilian Elites (also known as the Portuguese/Europeans) and would take place inside houses. Salves during this time started dancing and celebrating in the streets. This later became what Carnaval is today. It represents racial pride and many of the songs and instruments played are of African origin. Carnaval in Rio de Janeiro “became the most holy ritual of mestiço nationalism and the celebration of mestiçagem” (Eakin 2017, 91). Mestiçagem refers to ‘the mixing’ and is the term for the mixing of mainly African and Indigenous people, but also between African, Indigenous, and European people. This idea was present during Carnaval, but now Carnaval is a celebration of Black Pride. We also went to Casa do Carnaval, a museum all about the history and culture of Carnaval. We saw costumes from different ‘blocos’ or Carnaval groups. We also saw different individual costumes and one of them reminded me about the Mulata we read about in class. The Mulata is described as “thee most potent image of Brazilian sexuality” (Eakin 2017, 108). The Mulata became the ideal type of woman that every woman aspired to be. These lead to interesting gender dynamics within Brazilian society, but also within Carnaval itself. Below is an image of a costume that a woman wore during Carnaval. The dress itself looks like it emphasizes the chest area of the woman and her curves with how tight the dress is. There are still manifestations of the Mulata in Brazilian society and Carnaval.
 

The last interesting and important aspect of Brazilian culture are Afro-Brazilian religions. The one we learned the most about is Candomblé. This is a religion that was created through syncretism. Syncretism is the “process by which elements of 1 religion are assimilated into another religion resulting in a change in the nature of the religion. It creates an entirely new religion” (Lecture on Umbanda and Candomblé, May 16, 2022). When the Slave Trade was going on in Brazil, African people were taken from all over the continent and brought them to Brazil. This created a mixing of different religious traditions and customs and with Catholicism which resulted in Umbanda and Candomblé. In Candomblé, practioners worship 12 spirits, or gods, called Orixás. The Orixás that are recognized in Brazil are Oxalá, Lemanjá, Xangô, Iansã, Oxóssi, Ogum, Oxum, Exú, Omulu, Nanã, Ossaim, and Oxumaré. Because of the mixing with Catholicism, the Orixás have been associated with Catholic Saints. For example, the Orixá, Oxalá is associated with Jesus. Each Orixá is associated with a color and nature element as well as having a unique symbol. Many Brazilians practice Candomblé and I consider it to be a key aspect of Afro-Brazilian culture and heritage.
 
 
Works Cited
Eakin, Marshall C. “Communicating and Understanding Mestiçagem Radio, Samba, and Carnaval.” Essay. In Becoming Brazilian: Race and National Identity in Twentieth-Century Brazil, 79–106. Cambridge University Press, 2017.

Eakin, Marshall C. “Visualizing Mestiçagem Literature, Film, and the Mulata.” Essay. In Becoming Brazilian: Race and National Identity in Twentieth-Century Brazil, 107–35. Cambridge University Press, 2017.

Gatto, Malu AC, and Kristin N Wylie. “Informal Institutions and Gendered Candidate Selection in Brazilian Parties.” Party Politics, 2021, 1–12. https://doi.org/10.1177/13540688211008842.

Santos, Willys. Lecture on “Umbanda and Candomblé: The History, Tenets, and Practices” May
16, 2022, Salvador, Brazil.

By Lizbet Martinez and Fabian Venegas Ramos

On the day we are writing this, we have been in Bahia for 12 days. Through our educational program, we have learned about various topics related to race, gender, and inequality in Brazil including the education system, religion, and expansive history lessons. Some of our favorite lectures and experiences, however, have been centered on music and dance. These two mediums are more than just entertainment, but cultural ways of being, building community, and (re)connecting to ancestral roots. It has been an energizing and empowering experience to engage and interact with various cultural forms of dance and music unique to Brazil.

On the evening of our first full day in Bahia, we had a capoeira workshop with Mestre Sapoti. Capoeira is a Brazilian martial art that combines elements of dance, movement, and music. Mestre Sapoti discussed the origins of capoeira and how it came from the enslaved Africans in Brazil and was used as a form of self-defense disguised as dance. We learned how to do the ginga, the basic step, as well as a few offensive and defensive moves. We also learned about the musical instruments used to play the music for capoeira and the call and response songs that people sing. It was emphasized that people do not fight capoeira, but it is something that is played. It remains a very important part of Afro-Brazilian tradition and can be seen in the streets just about anywhere in Bahia. The workshop was a great way for us to dive into Brazilian culture.

We also had the incredible opportunity of learning Afro-Brazilian dance with Antonio Cozido, creator of Swing Afro Baiano. His zealous attitude, cheerful chants, and words of wisdom created an unforgettable experience for us both, one that we have been looking forward to since the start of the course on campus. To begin the dancing workshop, we did some grounding exercises to connect to our body’s five senses and to connect with our surrounding environment. He also re-introduced us to a Yoruba word used in Candomblé religion – Axé, which means “energy.” “AXÉ! AXÉ! AXÉ!” echoed throughout the room as we all chanted together several times throughout the workshop to reinvigorate each other’s energy. We learned how to dance Samba, Folha, and other dances that are popular in Brazil. The dances were all distinct from one another; some were easier to remember, some sensual and slow, and others upbeat and fast-paced.

Samba, more specifically, is a Brazilian dance that is considered one of the most representative elements of Brazilian culture. Compared to other dance styles, Samba was a unique and fun dance to learn. The emergence and spread of Samba in the 1920s was a popular sensation and in the 30s fused with carnaval, becoming emblematic of Brazil’s cultural identity. Samba was distinctly used to enhance a national identity and connect the regions of Brazil, which at the time were developing their own unique and competing music sounds. The most influential radio station of Brazil in the 1940s—Rádio Nacional, for example, “promoted the song heavily, and openly declared samba and its sentiments as the core of national identity” (Eakin 2017, p. 204). Together, popular media and the state pushed Samba as a cultural piece that would build bridges between cultural groups and create the Brazilian people.

Like samba, another essential aspect of Brazilian culture is the carnaval. We were able to visit the Casa do Carnaval museum in Bahia to learn about the importance of carnaval in Brazil. As Eakin explains, carnaval “emerged in the 1930s and 1940s as the principal ritual showcasing the Freyrean vision…it became the most holy ritual of mestiço nationalism and the celebration of mestiçagem” (2017, 204). It is a ritual and national festivity that comes from European roots but is grounded in various Brazilian (particularly afro-Brazilian) traditions. At the museum we got to see colorful costumes, did an interactive dance experience, and saw how carnaval brings all people together. 

Similarly, music had an instrumental role in creating the national identity of Brazil that is known today. The rise in popular music contributed to ethnic mixing for indigenous, African, and Portuguese people, allowing various styles to form, interact, and fuse with each other. Eakin (2017) states, “The cultural arena provided Brazilians opportunities for participation and belonging that were not open to them in the political arena, especially during the years of dictatorship” (p. 202). This highlights how popular music was fundamental for Brazilian culture and citizenship because it created space for Brazilians of different groups, particularly those existing in the margins, to engage with its production and consumption. This was demonstrated in the Percussion Workshop we had with Mario Pam. We saw and learned to play instruments with either indigenous roots, African roots, or European roots. These different instruments became used by other cultural groups to create and influence new music forms. This allowed different cultures to be represented and be part of an “imagined community.”

Our unique experience has demonstrated to us that inequality and racial injustice is prevalent in every aspect of life in Brazil. We see it very clearly in the arts that are often rooted in afro-Brazilian culture and are used as a means to fight back against discrimination and injustice. From capoeira to samba to carnaval, people are taking up space and keeping traditions alive. The arts experiences that we have been fortunate enough to have gone through have not only taught us about the issues, but we were fully immersed in experiencing the response to those issues. We know we will take with us the understanding and skills we learned, and we hope to be able to spread the wisdom, strength, and passion we acquired through the workshops and lectures.
 
Eakin, Marshall C. 2017. “The Sounds of Cultural Citizenship.” Chapter. In Becoming                  Brazilians: Race and National Identity in Twentieth Century Brazil. 200–219. New      Approaches to the Americas. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.