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 ​Ignacio Sanchez Romero

Two recurring themes that I noticed throughout my time in Brazil were tradition and race. These observations broadened my understanding and challenged my assumptions about Brazilian culture and society.

Tradition was the first theme that came through in several experiences. We began our trip by attending a lecture with Professor Willys Santos and Alcides about Candomblé, an Afro-Brazilian religious tradition. This was followed by a Capoeira workshop, a martial art that combines dance, gymnastics, and music. We had the opportunity to engage as well as observe, experiencing the tradition's music and history. 

​Another example of tradition was attending a Bahia football match, where the fans' chants and songs filled the stadium. These experiences demonstrated how deeply embedded traditions are in Brazilian culture. These are not only things from the past; rather, they are ongoing traditions that influence people's identities.

As I gave this some thought, I realized how simple it is to take our traditions for granted. Our cultural identities are built on customs and practices that have been passed down from generation to generation. However, we frequently lose awareness of their importance in the rush of modern life. My time in Brazil made me realize the value of preserving and valuing these traditions. It prompted me to reflect on my own history and the traditions that define me as a Mexican American. I started asking myself deeper questions like, "What does it mean to be a Mexican American?" Who am I and what am I called to do?
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The second theme, race, became visible through everyday observations. Sitting in a food court one day, I noticed a clear division in the area. While the diners, many of whom were white, were passively enjoying their meals and talking about their plans to visit the beach, people of color made up the majority of those handling the cooking, cleaning, and placing orders. This observation echoed what we discussed in class about race and socioeconomic status. It brought attention to the discrepancies and structural injustices that exist everywhere, not only in Brazil. Lençóis was another place where this pattern was visible, with people of color regularly spotted dealing to make ends meet while white tourists were enjoying their holidays. These were some disturbing and eye-opening observations. They showed me how deeply embedded these inequalities are. It was not limited to the food court or Lençóis; it was present everywhere I looked. This difference served as a reminder to me of how important it is to recognize and address these problems, both in Brazil and at home. While it's simple to overlook such realities when they don't directly impact us, this trip made it difficult for me to stay quiet.

Overall, there was more to my trip to Brazil than just a getaway. I had a great opportunity to think about my own identity and learn about a new culture. This experience has increased my understanding of global issues of race and embracing traditions, as well as how they intersect. It has given me a sense of responsibility to spread this awareness and apply it in my daily life. This trip has also taught me the value of being open to new experiences and perspectives. I was able to develop myself and get a broader perspective on the world by getting involved with Brazilian customs and seeing the racial dynamics up close. It served as more proof that traveling is about more than just seeing new places; it's also about having new experiences and growing from them.

My wish is that more students will be able to take part in these kinds of trips, not only to travel to new places, but to learn more about different cultures and global issues. We can experience significant personal growth by being willing to try new things and push ourselves beyond our comfort zones. 

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 Carter Potthoff

​As we wrap up our three weeks here in Bahia, I have begun to reflect on the experience and think about what I have learned during our stay here. There is one common theme that almost all of the activities we have done and lectures we have listened to have touched on, and that is Afro-Brazilian identity. Salvador, being the most African city outside of Africa, has a long history of Afro-Brazilian culture and resistance, which is reflected in various art forms, education, and community.
 
It is impossible to talk about Afro-Brazilian cultures and history without talking about art, music, and dance. During my time here, I have begun to understand how different arts forms are used to tell the story of ancestors, whether enslaved people in Brazil or ancestors from Africa, and promote the Afro-Brazilian identity. We had the opportunity to learn about many of these art forms, like percussion, capoeira, Afro-Brazilian dance, and graffiti. During our percussion workshop with Mario Pam, we talked a little bit about the history of percussion in Afro-Brazilian communities and the formation of African Blocks, or blocos de carnaval, in which Afro-Brazilians came together to create music and dance during Carnaval, but they were historically targeted by police. Osmundo Pinho, a social scientist at UFBA, says that “the image of the city of Salvador as a civilized and white city appeared threatened by the African presence” (Pinho 2020, 7). The white, Brazilian elites felt threatened by something as simple as music and dance. They went as far as banning “the display of African customs with drumming”, but there was no success (Pinho 2020, 7). Afro-Brazilian drumming has a history founded on resistance, and it is still of great importance to Afro-Brazilian identity and resistance in Salvador to this day.  

In “AmarElo – It’s All for Yesterday”, a Netflix documentary by Brazilian rapper Emicida, he walks us through the history of Afro-Brazilians through their music. It is symbolic as well, because he tells the story during one of his concerts at the Teatro Municipal de São Paulo, which was historically a place where black Brazilians were excluded. This concert was a way for Afro-Brazilians to take back a space they were historically excluded from (Ouro Preto 2020). For me, I see Afro-Brazilian music in Salvador in a similar way; Afro-Brazilians use music to form their identity and take their claim to spaces, both physical and societal, that they have historically been excluded from. Another Afro-Brazilian custom from Bahia is capoeira, which is a kind of fusion of martial art and dance. Capoeira was documented from as far back as 17th century Brazil and has been played in Afro-Brazilian communities as a form of resistance throughout Brazilian history (Pinho 2020, 6). Capoeira, like many other forms of Afro-Brazilians arts, was once banned, but regardless, it survived and was passed down from generation to generation and it remains a practice today. Similar to other Afro-Brazilian art forms, there is connection to Afro-Brazilian religions, like Candomblé, within these practices. Both came from enslaved Africans in Brazil and are unique to Brazilian culture, and both have been used to create community building spaces for black Brazilians, like the capoeira school or the Candomblé terreiros we visited. In the book Crooked Plow, the Jarê rituals, which is a religion similar to Candomblé, were accompanied by music and dancing, and when Zeca or other characters were mounted by orixás, they danced and sang (Vieira Junior 2019). Music and dance is so central to Afro-Brazilian identity that it plays a central role in things as important as religion. At the Balé Folclórico da Bahia, we were able to see many different practices of Afro-Brazilian culture, like capoeira, Candomblé, maculelê, and samba performed in one space using dance, drumming, and singing. It was a really impactful way to end off the trip and really allowed me to make connections about everything I was seeing and learning.
 
One last art form I want to talk about, that is much more contemporary than capoeira or drumming, is graffiti. We had the chance to visit Eder Muniz, who is a graffiti artist and tagger from Salvador. He shared with us some of his work, but also some background about graffiti and tagging and the social aspects of it as well. In a paper about “street youth” in Salvador, Marit Ursin, a sociologist at NTNU, talks about the negative connotations around street youth and how these connotations reinforce the social exclusion of these youth and continue to drive unequal structures of power (Ursin 2016). Eder talked a bit about this and said that in his case and the case of many others street artists, their art begins as a means of liberation and as a way of making themselves seen, by putting literal representations of themselves, in the form of tags, in their physical space. In a sense, tagging is about taking back their right to live and exist in their communities. Eder talked about using graffiti as a way of building community as well, and the importance of the community when making street art. He showed us some pieces around his community that he worked on, which were often accompanied by neighborhood parties or barbecues. Involving the community in the process of art is important in creating a piece that truly represents a community, but also that the community sees themselves represented in. These past three weeks in Salvador, we have had the opportunity to see and participate in all of these art forms, and I definitely have a new appreciation for art and music as a tool in resistance and building community.

Sources
Ouro Preto, Fred, director. 2020. Emicida AmarElo: It’s All for Yesterday. Netflix.

Pinho, Osmundo. “Race and Cultural Politics in Bahia.” In Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Latin American History, 2020.

Ursin, Marit. “Contradictory and Intersecting Patterns of Inclusion and Exclusion of Street Youth in Salvador, Brazil.” Social Inclusion 4, no. 4 (October 20, 2016): 39–50.
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Vieira Júnior, Itamar. 2019. Crooked Plow. National Geographic Books. 

By Jennifer Agustin Ambrocio

Pedro's Note: Both Jennifer and Ignacio wrote about education, but Ignacio posted an Instagram post about the same experiences. I will share his Instagram Post at the end of this blog post (but you can also click on this link)

Brazil is truly one of a kind, and an experience of its own. Having studied abroad in Mexico, Spain, and Dubai and now Brazil as my fourth trip study abroad. Salvador, Brazil has been amazing, and I wouldn’t change my experience for anything. The first week was a rollercoaster for sure, from spending 24 hours in Chicago for our flight to finally stepping foot in Brazil, that was all that I cared at that moment. These couple days have been full of being engaged and willing to learn about the history, religion, culture, and social issues that Salvador has faced. Therefore, women and children have continued to fight for education, and rights, because even though education is the key to life, that is not always the case for every kid especially in Salvador. As Nelson Mandela once said “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world” but if education was free for all, being debt free, where materials are provided, and teachers are actually paid what they are supposed to be too. 

During our second week here we visited Escola Aberta do Calabar to interact with teachers and the kids. It was a very bright and vibrant place where all the kids were getting along no matter what age, or gender you were, everyone included everyone. One of the teachers showed us a tour of the school and got to explain a little more about what these kids learn even though it might not seem as a typical school as in the United States. At Escola Aberta do Calabar, many of the school supplies come from donations and kids take courses that will actually serve them in life such as knowing how to sew, being taught social issues, the real history of Brazil, and  where many of these kids get to chance to attend the school without having to pay for fees such as the public and private schools in Bahia. This school was in a low-class neighborhood, where many of the kids there attended this school and shows that “in the 21st century, Bahia is a state marked by racial inequality, the poverty of a large part of the population, and state violence, paradoxically associated with the strong presence of traditions of African origin and a rich and dense popular cultural life, as in other parts of the African diaspora” (Osmundo, 1). So far I have seen racial inequality through my time here in Bahia, where colorism is one of the biggest issues that Brazilians without to say that throughout “Brazilian history, black culture (later coded as popular, peripheral, or favelada, which means from the slums, favelas) has been the object of repression, violence, disdain, panic, and anxiety, from the point of view of dominant white consciousness, as demonstrated in the case of Bahia” (Osmundo, 3).

We also had a lecture from the director of Instituto Cultural Steve Biko, Jucy Silva. Instituto Cultural Steve Biko is a school that serves students black especially those that want to pursue a higher education and degree, where students are taught ethnic-racial diversity and view the world named after the South African leader, Steve Biko, a great reference in the fight against Apartheid in South Africa (Instituto Cultural Steve Biko). The schools' mission is to promote political and social ascension of the black population through education and appreciate their history, but most importantly how to be black (Silva, 2024). I’m thankful there are these institutions in Bahia and hope there might be something similar in the United States, since “Bahia is the Brazilian state with the highest absolute numbers of poor people (6.3 million) and extremely poor people (1.9 million), among which families headed by black women are overrepresented (Osmundo, 3).
 
Even though these institutions serve those underrepresented in Salvador, many of the students go to the stages of their school career where they deal with stress, anxiety, depression, and such that affect their mental health (Mota, 2024). Something that surprised me was that many of the students go to work, and also go to school, which is something I would also do as a underrepresented student on campus but it's something that I must be grateful for since my parents have told me to focus on school because that is my only job. Both institutions have English classes for students to take advantage of kids being taught English classes is way to become more knowledge with those around them, but also a way to communicate with those as it is seen as an advantage later in life. Which I can relate as a Mexican American because my second language is also English and as a Spanish speaker I tend to try and practice both, so I don't forget them. We as Americans don't realize that education is such an important part of our life to get where we want and what goals we want to achieve whether it be a specific job/career or anything else that could give us an extra advantage.
 
​Sources
 
Pinho, Osmundo. "Race and Cultural Politics in Bahia." Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Latin American History. 17 Dec. 2020; Accessed 26 May. 2024. https://oxfordre.com/latinamericanhistory/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199366439.001.0001/acrefore-9780199366439-e-946.
 
Instituto Cultural Steve Biko - https://www.stevebiko.org.br/index.php
 
Director Jucy Silva’s Presentation, Thursday May 23rd
 
Professors Clarice Mota’s Presentation, Friday May 24th
 

Jennifer Agustin Ambrocio is a Senior at the College of Saint Benedict, double majoring in Political Science and Hispanic Studies with a minor in Latin Latino American Studies. She is originally from Bloomington, Minnesota. Jennifer enjoys watching and reading the news at a international level. She studied abroad 3 times already, and Brazil will be the 4th time

​By Alaina Rivero & Tania Salgado

One thing Pedro has reiterated on this trip is to take risks and be uncomfortable so you can learn. In the past week of being in Brazil we have stepped out of our comfort zones and ate chicken heart, hiked what seemed to be a million miles up a mountain, and took some dance lessons and watched back videos Pedro took of us only to realize how stiff we are. We have learned so much in such a short time and the days seem to go by terribly fast. We have had lectures about religion, native people, and education in Brazil. But one workshop in specific has piqued our interest. Capoeira is something both Alaina and I have been mesmerized with.

Capoeira is an Afro-Brazilian martial arts form that incorporates acrobatics, dance, percussion, and rhythmic dialogue of body, mind, and spirit. There have been records of Africans and slaves dancing and playing instruments in the 17th century (Pinho 2020, 6). This dance holds power as it has been kept alive and is still taught to kids. We have seen capoeira being performed a few times both in Salvador and Lençóis, and each time we are amazed at how history is kept alive and embraced through music and dance.

On our second day in Salvador, we had a capoeira workshop led by Mestre Sapoti. He first talked about the background of capoeira. It is not certain if capoeira is a dance or a fight. It starts with two people shaking hands and then beginning to move to dodge the opponents’ hits. The group of students that were there with Mestre Sapoti demonstrated for us what capoeira looks like. We loved seeing them do cool tricks like handstands, cartwheels, aerials, and other gymnastic moves.
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After the demonstration, Mestre Sapoti taught us some basic capoeira moves. We paired up trying out the new dance moves feeling more confident in what we were doing. After a few minutes of practicing, he stops us and brings out the musical instruments. He describes each instrument and plays the beat of the song that the students were dancing to. He gives some of us instruments to play while the rest of us sit in a circle. This part of the workshop ties back to what we had read in class about the several municipal laws that were enacted to prohibit “the display of African customs with drumming” (Pinho 2020, 7). Clearly there was no success in the prohibition of displaying African customs with drumming. This goes to show how Afro-Brazilians can never be silenced.

​We both have been amazed at the way empowerment and history lives on through capoeira. We see the power capoeira holds as it continues to embrace the history of Afro-Brazilian people. We understand the importance of keeping capoeira alive and are grateful that we are able to have this experience. We are absolutely loving Brazil and its culture and can’t wait to tell others about everything we’ve learned. 

Sources:
“Capoeira History.” ABADÁ-Capoeira San Francisco (blog). Accessed May 23, 2024.
https://www.abada.org/capoeira-history/

Capoeira workshop with Mestre Sapoti at the school of Alianca Francesa May 17, 2024.

Capoeira workshop at Academia de Mestre Cascudo in Lençóis May 20, 2024.
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Pinho, Osmundo. “Race and Cultural Politics in Bahia.” In Oxford Research Encyclopedia
of Latin American History, 2020.

By Allison Parker and Joselyn Rubio-Correa

During our first week here in Salvador, Brazil, we’ve felt the vibrant and strong influence of Afro-Brazilian culture. The city reflects the traditions of African origin that live on today. Before our departure, we learned about the current racial and gender inequalities in Brazil, and specific to the state of Bahia. Salvador was, originally, the capital of Bahia during the period when the Portuguese enslaved the Indigenous people of Brazil and Africans. Although the Portuguese attempted to control and diminish Indigenous and African culture, the people and traditions held strong. As our professor quotes “oppression leads to resistance”. Examples of oppression and attempts to erase culture in Afro-Brazilians would be in the 1900’s when the religions of Candomblé and Umbanda were illegal to practice and labeled as “the devil” in the eyes of Christianity. Although Candomblé and Umbanda are no longer illegal, they continue to be demonized by the Christian church, as noted by Alcides, Pai De Santo. In addition, Capoiera, an Afro-Brazilian traditional practice, was criminalized and illegal to practice in the late 1800’s and into the 1900’s. Nationally, the practice was outlawed and people who practiced Capoiera faced harmful consequences and even death. However, it was still practiced in secret, passed down to the children and is now recognized as a national practice or symbol belonging to Afro-Brazilians. 

The Candomblé religion originated from the religious syncretism of West African religions and Christianity. Unlike Christianity, in Candomblé there is no belief of a devil, heaven, or hell. To become a follower of Candomblé, you have to know Portuguese and be initiated into the religion by a pai de santo (priest). Once you have been accepted into the religion, you are assigned an Orixá (god) and it is with you until death. Followers of Candomblé worship many different Orixás and often provide them with offerings as a way of giving thanks.

Another tradition practiced is the art of Capoeira. As defined by Osmundo Pinho, social anthropologist in Bahia, “Capoeira is the expressive cultural African origin that combines ritual, dance, and body fight, nowadays practiced as a sport around the world” (Pinho, 2020). We learned that Capoeira is an art form like a dance that resembles a fight. However, Capoeira can be in the form of a real fight if a person feels threatened. As we were humbled by our flexibility and coordination skills, we learned the value and belief of Capoeira. Music, dance, movements and spirituality are crucial in the practice of Capoeira. The art is within the spiritual energy called axé (Rehard, 2021). Rehard uses a definition quoted by the scholar Barabara Browning “pure potentiality, the power-to-make-things-happen”. Rehard states that “Capoeiristas are able to engage in bodily dialogues with each other while using personal agency to shape the flow of the game for their own advantage” (Rehard, 2021). From our first-hand sight, capoeira is a controlled, strong, elegant practice that takes dedication, skill, and passion. The capoeiristas should never lose eye contact with one another, even when they are upside down or flipping. During our trip to Lençóis, Brazil, we were able to watch many Capoeira performances by students and teachers. In all the performances, the dancers moved in sync with one another and always watched one another, to prepare for their partner's next move. For musical expression, we saw the berimbau, atabaque, pandeiro, and agogo. (Itacare, 2024). Singing and clapping are encouraged as the audience gathers around the roda, or ring.
 

Both of these Afro-Brazilian traditions focus on the connection to corpo, the Portuguese word for body. Capoeira uses the body as a form of dance and expression while Candomblé uses the body to connect with nature and the environment. Our time here has shown us the importance of the connection between the mind and body as well as our place in relationship to the natural world. 

Sources:
Itacaré. “Capoeira - Itacaré Beach - Bahia - Brazil.” Www.itacare.com, 2024, www.itacare.com/itacare/capoeira/. Accessed 21 May 2024.
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Pinho, Osmundo. “Race and Cultural Politics in Bahia.” Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Latin American History, 17 Dec. 2020, https://doi.org/10.1093/acrefore/9780199366439.013.946. Accessed 23 May 2024.
 
Rehard, Abby. ““Axé, Capoeira!”” ReVista, 25 Jan. 2021, revista.drclas.harvard.edu/axe-capoeira/. Accessed 21 May 2024.

Allison Parker is a sophomore at CSB+SJU pursuing a major in Sociology with an Anthropology concentration, and a minor in Global Health. Her hometown is Belview, located in southwest Minnesota. She’s interested in learning about social behaviors and better understanding social, health, and cultural life issues. She looks forward to experiencing Brazilian culture and applying her studies abroad in Salvador. ​

By Carter ​Potthoff and Morgan Van Beck

After a missed flight and 24 hours in Chicago, we were more than happy to finally land in Salvador and settle in. On the way to the hotel in the middle of rush hour traffic, we saw a massive building with the words “Jesus Cristo é o senhor” and a huge logo reading “Universal”; it was one of the Protestant churches that have exploded in popularity in Brazil in the past few decades. Being the future social scientists that we are, we both instantly knew that we needed to investigate further and decided to use our first blog post for this trip to dive deeper into religion in Brazil and reflect on our experiences with religion here in Bahia thus far. The religious dynamic of Bahia is super interesting because it not only includes the rapidly growing Protestant movements, but is also the birthplace of Candomblé, one of the most practiced Afro Brazilian religions. 

Our brief introduction to Candomblé included a lecture by Professor Willys Santos, who is a scholar on Brazilian religions at UFBA and also a Candomblé priest as well as a lecture and visit to a terreiro, a place in which Candomblé is practiced, by and alongside Alcides, another Candomblé priest or Pai de Santo. These have been our favorite lectures thus far. We learned that Candomblé is not just a religion, but a way of life. Followers of Candomblé focus on their connection with their own self, their communities, and nature, and they connect with these things via their orixás, or the spirits that are with someone from birth until after death.
 
Pai Alcides talked about the important role of women in Candomblé, which is a matriarchal religion, because female slaves from Africa were the ones who kept the African roots of Candomblé alive. He also talked to us about the role Candomblé has in its followers lives and how followers engage with the religion. He explained that the terreiro created a space for family that was taken away by the slave trade. It is a place for community and gathering. He also explained that followers of Candomblé go to priests based on their needs, whether physical, emotional, relationship, social/economic, etc. Based on that, the Pai de Santo then provides direction to help us better understand ourselves and what we need in order to resolve the issue. Pai Alcides said “O Candomblé vai equilibrar, não curar” or “Candomblé will balance, not cure”. This line, for us, is what Candomblé is all about; seeking balance within one’s life in order to progress forward.
 
Learning about Candomblé here in Brazil has also helped us to retroactively better understand some of the material that we read in class, specifically, the book Crooked Plow by Itamar Vieira Junior. This book gave us a lot of insight into the dynamics of race, gender, and inequality in Brazil. It also centered on Afro Brazilian religion, which we were very unfamiliar with. Specifically, Jarê, which was practiced by the family that the book centered on. Zeca was a Jarê healer, but before coming to Brazil, we couldn’t fully understand what his role in the community really was (Vieira Junior 2019). Our time with Professor Willys Santos and Pai Alcides taught us the principles of Candomblé and other Afro Brazilian religions in an approachable way that made us appreciate Crooked Plow so much more.
 
As two students from Stearns County, we both really enjoyed diving into Candomblé. It’s something that we would never have had the chance to experience back home. Something that we are a little more familiar with is Protestantism; although, we were not familiar with its role in Brazil before this class. In Professor Willys Santos’s lecture, he talked about how Protestantism and Candomblé interact in Brazil. He explained that Afro Brazilian religions have historically been targeted and suppressed by those in power, who have historically been Catholic and are now increasingly Protestant. This tied into part of the lecture that Flavia Biroli gave at the CSBSJU Multicultural Center. She discussed the ways in which Protestantism is exploding in Brazil, its tie to conservative movements, and its effect on the decline of Catholicism. We also read about the changing religious dynamics of Brazil in Pereira’s Modern Brazil: A Very Short Introduction and discussed it with Karine Belarmino, a PhD student who researches clientelism within Brazilian Protestant movements. Karine explained that these Protestant denominations are gaining strength by providing services in communities that lack them, which makes adherents flock to their congregations, thus “buying” their votes in exchange for these services (Belarmino). This has culminated in a strong Brazilian Protestant movement, both political and religious, which was reflected in the grandiose church that we saw on our drive home from the airport.
 
An influx of congregants also means that Protestant churches are gaining political power. In addition to listening to Flavia Biroli’s lecture, we also read her 2016 article titled Political Violence Against Women in Brazil: Expressions and Definitions. In this article, Flavia discussed how a strong conservative movement and backlash is resulting in political violence against women, but she also discussed the role of Protestant churches in this conservative movement. Many prominent Protestants are gaining political power by winning the votes of the growing number of Protestants in Brazil. These politicians, who are sometimes pastors, campaign on platforms of Protestant values, such as traditional family and gender roles (Biroli 2016). These Protestant politicians are also able to promote policies that target non-Christians in Brazil, such as those who practice Candomblé, which brings us full circle back to Professor Willys Santos’s lecture on our first full day here.  
 
It has been a whirlwind first couple of days, but we are looking forward to everything else that Brazil has in store for us!

​Photos from a shrine to one of the Candomblé orixás, Yemanjá, in Salvador, Brazil. 

Sources:
​
Belarmino, Karine. “Clients of God: Introduction.” Ph.D. Dissertation.       University of Minnesota. Forthcoming.

Biroli, Flávia. “Political Violence against Women in Brazil: Expressions and Definitions /
Violência Política Contra as Mulheres No Brasil: Manifestações e Definições.” Revista Direito e Práxis 7, no. 15 (September 14, 2016).

Pereira, Anthony. Modern Brazil a very short introduction. Oxford, United Kingdom: Oxford University Press, 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. ​

Yesterday I had the first meeting with the students who will be joining me in Brazil in May 2023. We start classes in March, but I get way too excited and want to start sharing stuff as soon as I can with students!

This first post is a review of the stuff we did in 2022. To complement the class, I invited various scholars to campus and remotely to help my students understand more about Brazil. Below are the recordings for some of these talks!

 Spotlight on Brazil Series - Brazil under US influence: 1964-2021, Xavier Vatin

Spotlight on Brazil Series - Social inequalities in Brazil: Effects and Outcomes in Life and Health Conditions, Clarice Mota

​Spotlight on Brazil Series - An Informal Conversation on Racial Issues & Basketball in Brazil, Jamir Garcez

​Spotlight on Brazil Series - Fernando Conceição: Violence Against Minorities - Brazil & US, Fernando Costa da Conceição

By Hailey Karnowski

As my time here in Brazil comes to an end, I thought I would share two of the most memorable experiences that I had that deepened my understanding of Brazilian culture and led me to further question the persistent topics regarding gender.

Earlier this week, our group had the pleasure of hearing from Major Denice Santiago who is a police officer in Salvador and has helped create a branch of the police force focused strictly on violence against women. Major Denice informed us about the horrors that women face in households, and how justice was rarely sought due to the fear of not being believed or not having any resources in the first place. I had figured that there was still inequality between men and women—since some of our prior research had suggested that—but was clueless to the fact that violence against women ceases to exist across many aspects of the culture.

Before traveling, one of the subtopics we studied was gender’s role in Brazil. One article explained how Brazil still sees a lack of representation of women in power and it was not until 1994 that a woman was elected at the state level (dos Santos and Thomé, 2021). Knowing this, I thought it was amazing that Major Denice started in the police force at the age of 18 and holds a high ranking, but she mentioned to us that there is only so high of a position that women officers can get. Another article expressed how massive the women’s movement in Brazil was to gain the ability to vote only to be faced by backlash, and Major Denice’s talk amplified the idea that this movement has yet to see full equality (Maruci, 2018).

Back to Major Denice’s important topic discussed in her lecture—the violence against women in Brazil has plagued numerous households and has not received the social and governmental attention that it needs. Thankfully, Major Denice helped start a program to solely assist in cases and incidents regarding violence against women, but an earlier experience that I had led me to believe that this violence might not just be in the household.

Last week, those who wanted to were able to see a live Brazilian soccer match at the stadium in Salvador. For those unfamiliar with Brazilian soccer, soccer or “futebol” is arguably one of the most significant parts of Brazilian culture and helps unite the states and country. As an article we explored suggested, soccer is so popular because anyone can play it no matter the race or socioeconomic background and the sport has become a part of many Brazilians’ identity (Eakin, 2017). It truly brings all sorts of different people together, and as a person who loves sports, it was incredible to see this in person.

The game started out like any other major league sport with fans cheering, people buying cups of beer, and guys selling snacks throughout the crowd. However, as the game became tied and the fans became frustrated, I heard numerous sexist slurs being yelled at the players, referees, and even to other fans. I was shocked at some of the things that were being said—of course I know how Americans can get with hockey and football—but it was maddening hearing that the slurs regarded women. It was not until after the game during our lecture with Major Denice that I found out that soccer games are a huge driving force with domestic violence and that the special taskforce actually stays at the stadium to ensure that no women are being harassed or hurt. It was extremely eye opening that a sport so important to a nation holds some toxic behaviors that further the inequalities that women face in society. This experience made me look at Brazil on a more intersectional level, and I realized that although things like soccer are important for unity, there still may be some people that are disadvantaged from it.

Although our course explored inequalities persistent in Brazilian culture, I think it is important to note the changes that are currently being made for a more equal and equitable society for women and other marginalized groups. Since the beginning, powerful women activists have made monumental impacts on the culture that is seen today. Take Bertha Lutz and Dilma Rousseff for example. The two women fought against all odds to further women’s rights and gain political power (Noriega, 2020). Since then, women like Major Denice Santiago have been continuing this journey to fight for women’s rights, and their actions have not gone unnoticed. I can only hope that Brazil and the United States continue these efforts toward equality.

Works Cited:

Eakin, Marshall. “The Beautiful Game: Performing the Freyrean Vision” (2017). In Becoming
Brazilians: Race and National Identity in Twentieth-Century Brazil (New Approaches to the Americas, pp. 165-199). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. doi:10.1017/9781316800058.007

dos Santos, Pedro A. G. and Thomé, Débora, "Women and Political Power in Brazil"
(2021). Political Science Faculty Publications. 70.
https://digitalcommons.csbsju.edu/polsci_pubs/70

Maruci, Hannah. “Women’s struggle to vote in Brazil: same fight, different strategies” (2018).
Oxford Human Rights Hub. https://ohrh.law.ox.ac.uk/womens-struggle-to-vote-in-brazil-same-fight-different-strategies/

Noriega, Christina. “Herstory: 12 Brazilian Women Who Changed the Course of History”
(2020). ReMezcla. https://remezcla.com/lists/culture/herstory-brazilian-women-changed-course-history/

Hailey Karnowski is a rising senior at the College of Saint Benedict, pursuing a major in sociology and minor in political science. She is originally from Farmington, Minnesota. Hailey is the new president of the CSB rugby team and works for IT Services. She hopes to work in social work or criminology after graduating and is looking forward to gaining new experiences and perspectives while studying abroad.