Wednesday, Day 102
It’s a holiday in Salvador on the day we arrive in port. No one seems to know what holiday it is but many of the streets are deserted and, partly as a consequence, several of the students are mugged within a short time of our arrival. Beggars and street urchins stand directly outside the one or two ATMs that all of the students are lined-up for, awaiting a handout or an opportunity to yank a chain off or lift a handbag and make a run for it. The armed guards at every street corner don’t seem to make much of a difference. Later, many people find that there’s been additional fraud perpetrated on their debit and credit card accounts. Not nice.
Despite precautions and warnings, and the armed military police, the muggings in the historic district of Pelourinho (or Terreiro de Jesus), the first stop for many of us in Brazil, set the tone for our visit—one where we are all enormously impressed by the country, its history and its people, but defensive in the extreme because of the crime and personal insecurity. The most frequently asked question is: “Is it safe?” The first three students to get robbed are a group of three male students accosted by a group of four males, who make off with all of their cash, watches and Blackberries a mere half block away from the main center square. This does not exactly inspire confidence in the far greater number of women on our ship.
In our studies of the current Brazil society and economy, we learn that inequality exists here in the extreme and crime of all types is a blatant manifestation of the severity of the problem. Whereas in the United States, a country with growing inequality between rich and poor that is far more unequal than European countries, the top 10% of the rich make over 16 times what the bottom 10% make, in Brazil the top 10% make 60 times what the bottom 10% make. Recently, the government has changed to a more social democratic regime, following upon many years of elite and military rule, and there is growing investment in infrastructure and education, but it is going to take many years to redress the balance in the society and give hope to the masses of slum dwellers in the favelas. The situation seems hopeless to us as visitors but a couple of us one evening are treated to a detailed lesson in both safety and hope by a taxi driver who urges us to be careful, with very specific instructions of where we should and should not walk, together with a case for those areas to get much better in the near future. We can only hope he is as right as he is passionate about his city and country.
In the meantime, because conditions will not improve in the next four days we are in port, all of us wind up leaving everything on the ship and only carrying the barest amount of money and identification. It is a great shame because it means that we will not support as tourists the investment that the city has made in massive programs of restoring the amazing architectural treasures of Salvador’s 400 years of history. We also take away only a few photographs of a very beautiful place because it is so chancy to carry a camera—although it is certainly not a bad thing just to experience a place and people and not record on film. In the evening of our first day, despite all of the discouraging and disturbing mishaps, a large film crew arrives to film a commercial for the World Cup and a veritable street party happens with music and dance. A large number of our students join in the fun and wind up being included in the filming of the commercial.
The city’s history is a rich and tragic one, beginning with Dutch colonialists who initiated the slave trade from Africa to the New World in the 16th century until the Portuguese succeeded them. Over the course of four centuries an estimated 6 million slaves—plus many more without number lost at sea—were brought to Salvador under horrific conditions. For many years, Salvador was the capital of Brazil. Today, 70% of the population is of African descent although there has also been an enormous amount of intermarriage with people of native Indian and European ancestry. Because Portuguese Catholicism did not seek to deprive either Africans or Indians of their native beliefs and customs, much of Brazilian culture and religion is a rich meld that includes spiritual candomble and dance capoeira as two of its most colorful elements.
The churches and museums are stunning and magnificent colonial buildings with baroque ornamentation and acres of gold leaf. We visit far too many to even mention in this journal. Two are particularly impressive: an outstanding early colonial structure dating back to the 16th century and housing the first hospital in Brazil (Museu de Misericordia); and the Museu Afro-Brasileiro built upon the 15th century foundations of the original Jesuit College.
Since the only thing we had that rainy morning of our first day was a couple of cups of the exceptional Brazilian coffee, Warner and Nancy and I have a mid afternoon lunch in a wonderful small restaurant in Pelourinho, taking shelter from a downpour. Warner and Nancy turn in early back at the ship because they will take off by plane for a trip in the Amazon the next day. I join a group of friends on a taxi ride to a restaurant three blocks away—alas, it is not safe to walk at all at night in the port area. The food is Bahian (the adjective derived from the name of the state that Salvador is in) and it is very good.
I get back early enough from dinner to finish reading a Dickensian novel by Brazil’s—and Salvador’s—most famous writer, Jorge Amado: Gabriela Clove and Cinnamon and start in on another of his massive novels Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands. Both of them are a great help in appreciating the society and culture. I ask a friend back at the university to advise me on Brazilian literature and am chagrined to learn how many works of outstanding Brazilian authors are not available in English translations. She jokes I will learn to read Brazilian Portuguese easily enough. But while it is true that there are similarities with Spanish there are also substantial differences. I feel lucky to know enough Spanish—and to be able to hear the differences in speech—to get by in conversations with people in the shops and taxi cab drivers.