The whipping post

its Friday the 13th. Im not sure that means anything here in brasil but today I finished my first week of Portuguese classes and it was pretty scary. scary in that I haven’t taken a language class in more than 15 years and this stuff is hard!. I definitely felt I was behind more than the others (everyone else in the class did know Spanish which is totally helpful). But I will solider on determined to have a real conversation in portuguese by the time my journey is through. So this week was really about 3 hours a day of classes and homework at night. I did however manage to go out a couple of times with other students from the language school. On Wednesday, I went out with one of the swiss women – she and I soon figured out that we had the same birthday but would be unable to celebrate together because she is leaving today to go to Maceio - a town further up the coast where classes and accommodation are half as expensive. she and i went to dinner at touché creperie- a little restaurant near my hood. Touché has delicious crepes and on wedesndays they have Mexican night. I was told they have the best Mexican food in Salvador and it was delicious (ok – every meal ive had here has been delicious) She and I sat outside and chatted the evening away – she works in a hospital in zurich and regaled me with stories of socialized heath care and I told her about the documentary that I will be working on here. I also went to the pelourhino twice this week. The pelo is the historic center of Salvador – the old city. It literally means “whipping post” (yes the legacy of slavery is everywhere – and here it feels more open than at home. I wonder where is the pelourhino of Richmond, Jackson and new york city) and it is the cultural heart of the city. On Tuesday evening there is music and dancing on the cobbled sidewalks and turistas and brazilians partying it up. That night I caught brazilian hip-hop with 2 young women performing a mix between break dancing and capoeria, flamenco, and brazilian reggae. We ended the night at a hot little samba bar with musicians and dancing in one room and everyone else outback drinking beer, and flirting.
A few days later I found myself in the pelourhino again. the language school took us to a dance performance where they danced the dance of the orishas and the samba do roda which is specific to this part of brasil. It was beautiful – though certainly for the touristas. It also seemed like the men got better parts. Before the performance one of the students complained to me how in the pelo the people asking for money and vendors are so aggressive. he said that when he was on a tour here a few weeks ago they wouldn’t leave them alone. I nodded my head – well that’s the price we pay for being tourists in their country. We have money and they don’t. later I hung out with another student - an Englishman- and his Brazilian date. He proceeded to tell me which countries had the most good-looking men (“cuba-but you have to pay for them there”) and where the caphrinias were the most inconsistent (rio). At the end of the night I made friends with a young boy selling the beaded necklaces that are sold all over. he was 11 years old and quite a charmer. he seemed content to have a break from his relentless job of approaching the turistas and touting his wares. He spoke slowly to me so that I could understand him. It was almost 11:00 at night and it turned out he lived far from the pelo- close to the airport. he asked where I was from – I told him. he asked if it was nice there and said that here it wasn’t because there were too many drugs. i asked him if he was in school. he said that he was – in the 5th level. I couldn’t help but put my arm around him. all I could think to say was that the most important thing he could do was to stay in school. and that was true for black people in the U.S too. he nodded his head - I wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t know. Then he smiled saying -I have to go back to work - and walked away.