In a city of concrete, this sight is repeated endlessly. Sometimes beautiful, sometimes foreboding. It is not an urban dystopia, but it has that side. See the seedy side of the Praca da Sé and the Metro in the second and third galleries. The first gallery shows the weekly outdoor feira (market) in Moema, a truly beautiful place to revel in produce fresh from the rich farms in the countryside.
Market (neighborhood of Moema), Winter holidays 2019-2020
A little boy watches customers as his father works
The neighborhood of Moema has a weekly market, like many neighborhoods in the city of São Paulo. These photos are from several visits to the market. Every week vendors of clothing, housewares, repair of kitchen pots and pans, and food stalls for nuts, spices, freshly pressed sugar cane juice, and the ubiquitous pastel shop. The pastel is a deep-fried pastry, a bit like long, flat empanada, filled with cheese, heart of palm, artichoke, or meat. They can be delicious, dragged dripping with grease from the pan. The Brazilian heart association is silent about their health value.
Fresh mangoes, papayas, oranges, and much more. It is December in São Paulo, summer in the southern hemisphere.
Some demand that I take their picture, and cannot resist the ubiquitous Brazilian “thumbs up”
Our favorite fruit vendor with the Brazilian double-thumbs up. That day he had a special on lichi nuts.
This nut and dried fruit vendor was curious about the odd (fisheye) lens
The Brazilian market is an exuberant place
Coconut and tapioca stall. Tapioca here is not the breakfast food I knew as a child, but a rich power that is typically fried into crepes and wrapped around cheese and other fillings
Among the surprising number of banana species, bananas “prata,” on special here, are smaller than the “nanica” variety which are more like the larger variety commonly found in the U.S.
The narrow market aisles, normally suburban streets, are filled with vendors, delivery workers, shoppers, children and dogs
The São Paulo Metro
The São Paulo subway system is brilliantly efficient along the many lines that are completed, though many areas in the sprawling city are still underserved. A day in the underground is not exactly like being in Cocteau’s Orpheus, or in Pabst’s dystopian Metropolis, but there is still an eerie feel when you squint a bit and see it as just movement within an unforgiving structure.
This reminds me of the surreal underground journey in Cocteau’s 1950 film Orpheus
Layers upon layers at the Praca da Sé, a major transfer point for several metro lines
In Fritz Lang’s expressionist film Metropolis (1927) workers move anonymously through layers of elevators and stairs that take them to work, and back
Praça da Sé
The plaza, also known as the Largo da Sé, is the home of the cathedral. It is also the middle point of São Paulo and a place, they say, from which all distances are measured. It is a famous cathedral, built and rebuilt over the years, and is a popular tourist destination. What tourists experience is different from the travel posters: the plaza is filled with small vendors and diversions of all sorts. You can sell gold there, and buy a vast range of dubious goods and counterfeit items of all sorts. It is a vibrant secondary economy with money being passed surreptitiously from hand to hand everywhere. People bathe in the plaza pool. Except for the Cathedral itself, the area has been given over to all the diversity of the urban area.
The Praça from the Cathedral steps
The Cathedral in the background, the secondary economy fills the plaza. Everything is for sale
The pool next to the Cathedral, for bathing and washing clothes
Cathedral at the left, a vendor sets up his table
At the edge of the plaza (Cathedral to upper right) a cart with belongings and collected items
Balé Folclórico da Bahia is internationally known for its balletic and remarkably physical performances based on Brazilian folk dances and orixás, spiritual entities known in Candomblé and other Afro-Brazilian traditions.
The photos below are impressions of the class. The video at the end of the post gives a sense of the dynamics of the class.
Dancers from the main company joined the class to demonstrate the movement sequences. Through the windows you can see part of the old city of Salvador. Some of the movement is photographed against a wall of mirrors in the rehearsal space.
Warm upSilhouetted against the old city. June is winter in Salvador, but the temperatures were still in 80s. Cooling was through these windows and fans.In the studio mirrorOne of the Balé Folclórico company members who helped lead the classThe old city center in the background
The video excerpts give a sense of the class. The instructor would give a sequence, then members of the company would lead the sequence for the dance students. On the audio track you can hear the propulsive drumming that drives the practice (and the company’s performances as well).
UWM dance students in class with the Balé Folclórico da Bahia
Rio de Janeiro is lustrous on the surface, to many the most beautiful city in the world. To others it is known as one of the most dangerous and troubled. This is only the postcard side, where all things are beautiful and everything looks like the travel posters you have seen.
Everyone’s obligatory visit: Cristo Redentor, the 30 meter statue of “Christ the Redeemer.” Hundreds of visitors mill around waiting for their chance to shoot selfies, with arms outstretched, of course. The arms are 28 meters (92 feet) across. It was built between 1922 and 1931.View of the city showing Pão de Açucar, Sugar Loaf (upper left), from the 700 meter heights of Cristo RedentorHIgher: Cable car up to Sugar Loaf, second stage. The first stage is just below and is the first stop for postcard pictures. There is also a Starbucks, or the like.View on the way upEscadaria Selaron, constructed over the years by an eccentric lover of the city. A familiar stop in Lapa, used often for music videos and films. The tiles now come from all over the world.Escadaria Selaron, “Stairs of Selaron” made of thousands of tilesLapa is a center of night life, and street artDeliveries, LapaStreet art, and jewelry artist, Lapa
In June 2019 dance students from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, led by Simone Ferro, spent more than three weeks in Brazil. This is the first leg of the trip –Salvador, Bahia, where the dancers took capoeira classes from Mestre Angola in the shadow of the famous church Nosso Senhor do Bonfim.
The classes were conducted in an African-Brazilian house of worship where our hosts also prepared food for us.
Photos by Meredith W. Watts
Igreja Nosso Senhor do Bonfim, “Our Lord of the Good End,” an iconic Catholic church that has long accommodated Afro-Brazilian celebrationsMestre Angola with carving of an orixá in the spiritual house where he gave classesCapoeira is accompanied with Berimbau, a musical bow with a gourd resonator of probable African origin. The carved orixa on the wall is an artistic rendering of Oxum, goddess of fresh water.The lower level of the spiritual house has a fountain whose water is used in ceremonies. It was uncovered in renovation of the house. It is repurposed as a tribute to Oxum.Mestre Angola with University of Milwaukee – Milwaukee dance students
Humberto de Campos is a small city in the Lençois region of the state of Maranhão in the Northeast of Brazil. Its current name is that of a Brazilian writer, but it has had various names and administrative changes. The original indigenous name for the region was Miritiba and the name remains (a pousada carries that name, for example), but the indigenous people have long been displaced.
The center of government (prefeitura) of Humberto de Campos
It is only about 180 miles from the equator (289 kilometers). The state capital of São Luís is only about 90 kilometers away, but the metropoles of São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro are over 2000 kilometers to the south.
The French arrived in 1612 (around the time they founded São Luís), but the occupation was ended by the Portuguese.
According to local history, the region figured in the Balaiada revolt (1838-42) and was part of the brief reign of the rebel and former slave Cosmé Bento. Cosmé and his force of former slaves were part of a broader revolt of liberals and middle-class and poor whites. The struggle involved much of the state of Maranhão. The conflict was actually triggered in 1838 when a group led by Raimundo Gomés attacked a jail in city now known as Nina Rodrigues to free his brother. The revolt spread to include thousands of poor farmers who were angry about the declining economy and predatory military draft. It has been estimated that some 8,000 rebels were involved, including some 2-3,000 former slaves, before being repressed by the military. Cosmè was captured and executed in 1842 in the final days of what was known as the Balaiada revolt, but not before occupying for a time the second largest city in the region, Caixias to the south. In the Portuguese practice of the time, Gomés was draw and quartered, and his body parts distributed around Maranhão as a warning.
The 1850s church Igreja Matriz São José do Periá, the mother church of Saint Joseph of Periá
Humberto de Campos was affected, but the end of the revolt was played out in Caxias to the south where Cosmé was defeated. Both the region of Miritiba and Maranhão as a whole have had a turbulent political and social history.
Humberto de Campos lies along the river Piriá, or Preá, which flows northward to the Atlantic. The city and the river are an access point to the Atlantic Ocean and the Lençois Dunes National Park. It was our starting place for a river trip and visiting the dunes, but also an interesting little city in its own right.
The river Preá or Piriá connects to the Atlantic and the transitional zones of brackish water are home to mangrove forests, flocks of red ibis birds and white egrets. Fishing is a major occupation along the rivers and in the dunes where fishermen live temporarily in lean-to shacks that protect them from the sun. The landscape is, by turns, lush, swampy, and desert-like.
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The Church and the Prefeitura are interesting buildings, but the side streets, the market, and the docks show more of the life of the citySide street: bicycles here are utilitarianGrain seller at the city market. Mandioca (manioc, processed cassava) is a staple in the Northeastern diet. Its use dates to the indigenous people who originally populated the region.In the fish market near the docks he dries and salts fish for sale.Fishing boats on the river Periá/Preá.Fishermen docking in the early morningRiver boats are simple, designed for fishing. Here they are docking with the morning’s catch which will be carried some fifty yards up a hill to the market.
In Humberto de Campos word got around that we were students and researchers interested in the regional celebration Bumba-meu-boi. One night a group called Boi Novilho dos Lençois came to the Pousada Miritiba where we were staying. They staged a rehearsal for us in the dining room of the pousada.
This video is of the rehearsal.
After the rehearsal in the pousada we visited the headquarters of the group. They showed their workshop and modeled their new costumes for us.
It’s worth taking a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship involved in costume productionDirector and designer of the group shows this year’s costumesLike most groups, Boi Novilho’s costumes are a mix of showmanship and traditional religious motifsCostume room, Boi Novilho dos LençoisSome of the performers (brincantes) after the rehearsal
Boi Famosão de São João
Humberto de Campos is also home to the headquarters of Boi Famosao de Sao Joao which is celebrating its 30th year. The boi (ox) of a traditional group is usually 3-4 feet long and “danced” by one person called a miolo. Boi Famosão is so large that it takes over a dozen miolos to animate it.
A week later we saw the group perform at the Maria Aragão venue in São Luis. The performance photos are from that appearance.
You can see the scale of the boi by comparing the relative size of UW-Milwaukee student Alex (l) who was photographing. This large wall mural was actually the previous decoration for the boi. By custom groups change the decoration on their ox figures often, usually at great cost. The cost is significant for a normal-sized ox. A work this size takes many hands and a huge investment.Caterina is a character in the narrative of most Bumba-meu-boi performances. Here she is dancing with the boi on stage in Sao Luis.The boi towers over the stage at Maria Aragao, Sao Luis.Looking like a centipede, Boi Formosao is carried by more than a dozen miolos who animate it in performanceYou can see a bit of the framework of the boi, and the tremendous effort it takes to animate it in performance.The boi stands over the brincantes, dominating the stage with its sheer size. Here the miolos are preparing to carry it offstage where a special path had to be cleared by security
In June 2019 Simone Ferro, Professor and Chair of Dance, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, Peck School of the Arts, led a group of seven dance students on a 23-day trip to Brazil. The class studied African influences on Brazilian culture in three cities: Salvador, Bahia; São Luís, Maranhão; and Rio de Janeiro. The group also spent a few days in the northeastern Maranhão area known as Lençois, a huge coastal region of dunes with small inland lakes and lagoons formed by rainfall.
The beginning of the 23-day Study Abroad class in Brazil
This is an introduction to the trip. Successive posts will describe various parts of the visit which include: capoeira, Bahian cuisine, a turtle preserve, and colonial-era churches (Salvador); desert-like dunes and rivers populated by red ibis, huge tracts of mangroves, and white egrets (Lençois); performances of the Bumba-meu-boi festival and lessons in Northeastern dances (São Luís); and samba lessons, and, of course, a visit to the 30-foot Cristo Redentor statue and Sugar Loaf mountain (Rio de Janeiro).
Near Salvador in Praia do Forte is a marine preserve dedicated to protecting the breeding grounds of enormous ocean turtles such as the 300 lb. loggerheadBahaianas in traditional dress help visitors in the old center of Salvador (Pelourinho). We have known Thelma (Bahiana, right) for years, and just met her daughter (Bahiana , left). Simone Ferro, group leader is at the right.Dance students took drumming lessons with Olodum, a samba-reggae group and community organization in the historic center of the city. Here they performed in the street on front of the Olodum headquarters.Capoeira with Mestre Angola in the shadow of the historic church, Nosso Senhor do Bonfim (“Our Lord of the Good End”), SalvadorTalyene Melônio is choreographer. dance specialist, and administrator in the traditional Baixada group Bumba-meu-boi de Apolônio. She taught UWM students movement from her group and a variety of other Northeastern Brazilian dances
In March 2016 we visited Baekseok University in Cheonan City, in northern South Chungcheong province, South Korea. Simone Ferro taught dance and Laban Movement classes, Meredith Watts photographed.
These images are of Korean dance students in a Laban class.
Dona Capitolina and Ulisses Medonca. Together they are the leaders of the Bumba-meu-boi celebration group Linda Joía de Sao Joao (Beautiful Jewel of Saint John). Sao Joao/Saint John is the patron saint of the Bumba-meu-boi celebration throughout the state of Maranhao.
Dona Capitolina and Ulisses Medonca are old friends whom we have visited in Matinha several times in the course of our research on folk celebration in Maranhão. On a recent visit Dona Capitolina asked where are all these pictures.
Here they are, at least of few. They are divided into several sets:
Part I. A gallery of portraits of Dona Capitolina, Ulisses Bispo Medonca, taken during several visits over the years
Part 2. Rehearsal and Preparation for performance Matinha 2017
Part 3. Performance of the group Linda Joía de Sao Joas (Beautiful Jewel of Saint John) Matinha 2017
Masked Cazumba, an iconic figure in the Baixada tradition, It can represent various spiritual entities, and those in the tradition will give many explanations. Performatively, the cazumba interacts with the audience (especially children) and often maintains the boundaries of the performance when the crowd is mingling closely (as is often the case in village celebration)
Part I: A gallery of portraits of Capitolina taken during several visits.
Simone Ferro and Meredith Watts with Ulisses Bispo Medonca, Matinha 2017
The small city of Matinha in the interior of Maranhao is a center for celebration of the Baixada style (sotaque) of the Bumba-meu-boi celebration. The festival is traditionally celebrated on and around the day of Saint John the Baptist (São João). Customarily this occurs on the night of the 23rd into the day of the official day of Saint John, June 24th.
The name of the Bumnba-meu-boi celebration group — Beautiful Jewel of Saint John — reflects this lasting power of popular Catholicism in Northeast Brazilian folk culture..
The festival is held in a town square prepared as a performance venue and attended by a host of local leaders and hundreds (thousands?) of viewers. In this small city, over a dozen groups will perform on festival night.
In 2017 we photographed them in the headquarters of the group — which is actually their home — during the days of the festival.
Part 2, Rehearsals and Preparations, Matinha Baixada Festival, June 2017
Part 3. Performance, festival of Bumba-meu-boi groups in the Baixada tradition
It is estimated that during the week or so of the celebration of Pentecost (Espirito Divino Santo/Holy Ghost), traditionally held 50 days after Easter, some 100 events are held in São Luís alone.
What is truly remarkable in the eyes of more secular cultures is the importance of these multi-day community events that bring together hundreds of people of all generations. There is of course a “modern” part of Brazil that observes only the mass on Pentecost Sunday, but these events in Maranhao bring together parts of the community for many days of celebration. The organizers, and the children and parents, will prepare for nearly the entire year.
The female drummers — caixeiras — are a traditional (and obligatory) feature of the celebrations. It is said that some drummers may appear in as many as thirty events across the city.
A mass for Pentecost is still held in the Catholic Church of course, but in the São Luís variation the priest normally leaves the pulpit and the caixeiras lead the children and celebrants from the church in a huge din of waving flags and rhythmic drumming.
Selected children are dressed as imperial royalty Portuguese colonial period and comprise the Tribunal or royal court. The “seating of the Tribunal” of children is done in the spiritual house where in both Christian and Afro-Brazilian entities are displayed and worshiped.
Spiritual House in Santa Inês (Saint Agnes)
In this celebration in Santa Inês the caixeiras themselves opened an early event, without children or a “Tribunal.” It is their personal celebration of the Holy Ghost a day or two before the actual day of Pentecost.
Caixeira. The mural behind seems to represent the arrival of the colonial Portuguese. Brazilians are a bit ambivalent about the colonial period — most have some European heritage but there was the vast slave trade that brought millions of their ancestors from Africa. The European colonizers also enslaved and exterminated many indigenous peoples, languages and cultures.
One of the traditional “Drummers for the Holy Ghost”
These spiritual houses tend to be “syncretistic,” in that they juxtapose or merge symbols and veneration of Christian and other entities. Here a cross is decorated for the Holy Ghost.
At the climax of this celebration night members gather at the altar and light candles for the Espirito Santo.
Caixeiras at the altar
To support the celebration, a large number of people must be fed. By custom the celebrants and any drop-in guests and neighbors come to the table. This is the kitchen crew.
Casa de Mina Santa Maria, São Luís
“Seating the Tribunal”
After a Catholic Church mass the “tribunal” of royally dressed children, accompanied by the drummers (caixeiras) and other celebrants, march to the Casa de Mina Santa Maria.
The altar at the Casa de Mina Santa Maria, with doves and the crown symbolizing the Espirto Santo. In the center is the Virgin Mary (Santa Maria) and below another figure draped with necklaces of the various orixás worshiped in the house. It is common for Afro-Brazilian spiritual houses to worship entities from the Christian tradition (including many saints) as well as African orixás and other entities adopted in the New World. Each house has a different pantheon of entities they worship and invoke.
Most caixeiras are members of long-lasting women’s groups, but they are sometimes joined by male drummers.
The children in the Tribunal are fabulously dressed. This is one of the younger members of the royal court. The “empress” is a teenager who is elected newly every year and has a year to prepare (meaning, usually, that her family has a year to prepare her costumes).
For a few hours the young people are replicas of adult royalty, apparently invoking the period of Portuguese colonialism.
There are young caixeiras, but most are older women who have been drumming for the Holy Ghost for decades.
A young member of the “imperial” court, or Tribunal.
One of the few younger caixeiras. She is watching the older drummers to learn the various rhythms (there can be as many as nine, each with a role in the liturgy.
Veteran caixeira with young members of the court in the background.
Tenda de Fé em Deus, Pindaré
Procession of the Crown of Espirito Santo (Holy Ghost)
This procession preceded the entrance of the elaborately costumed children. These young men are bringing in the crown of the Holy Ghost at a spiritual house in Pindaré.
After they enter and the crown is present, there is an elaborate banquet or cakes soft drinks and sometimes chocolate drinks for the children. After the court is fed adults get the remaining cakes. For a proper banquet in the city of São Luís there are usually several tables of cakes. For this smaller event in Pindaré there were only a dozen or so cakes.
Young men entering the celebration with the symbols of the Holy Ghost.
There is a slightly romantic, mystical atmosphere that lasts until the lights are turned on and the children’s procession enters.
Catholic Mass, then Procession and Celebration at Casa de Nagô (São Luís)
After a formal Pentecost mass, the priest exits and the procession of the caixeiras begins. Here a young man of the “imperial court” leads the procession from the church with the flag of the Espirito Santo.
Just one of the several tables of cakes decorated with colors and symbols of the Pentecost.
The “empress” enthroned in an elaborate ritual at the Casa de Nâgo.
Being good, and regal, is trying. This is after the formal ceremony and before the cake, chocolate and soft drinks.
Casa das Minas, São Luís June 2017
“Bringing Down the Mast”
In groups that can afford it, the mastro/mast is raised early in the Pentecost week (levantamento do mastro) and torn down at the end (derrabamento do mastro). Both are signal events opening and closing important events in the Pentecost celebration.
The one below at the Casa de Minas is a massive pole that requires several men, intricate coordination, and various rope and tools.
For contrast, at the very end is a more modest neighborhood mastro decorated with treats for children.
The final ceremony is the “lowering of the mast” — a symbol of the Pentecost celebration. This is a huge one — perhaps thirty feet high and made from a tall tree. It is decorated at the top with a flag and symbols of the Espirito Santo.
Caixeiras march around the mast (“mastro”), nearing the climax of the celebration. Members of the celebration symbolically strike the mast with a hatchet to symbolize its being brought down and closing the Pentecost season.
The “mastro” is raised at the beginning of the several-day Pentecost celebration and lowered at the final ceremony. It is traditionally men’s work and requires a great deal of coordination, strength and skill. Some writers describe this as the “phallic” part of the ceremony.
Members of the court parade around the now-lowered mastro for a final closing of Pentecost.
The caixeiras accompany the parade around the mastro with constant drumming and singing.
In a final act, the dove and flag of the Holy Ghost are removed from the mastro and the formal Pentecost celebration is closed. There are still hours of drumming and eating tables full of cake and other food. The larger spiritual houses bring together hundreds of people for these celebrations. In early days food was taken to a leper colony — in a remaining element of that custom many disabled and very poor are given gifts outside the house on the previous day.
An Alternative Neighborhood Mastro
Not all mastros are formal and massive like the one from the Casa de Minas. This one is in a modest neighborhood and decorated with treats for children.
Some neighborhoods use a simpler mastro that is decorated with fruit, soft drinks and other treats for children. When this type of pole is brought down, it is the occasion for a children’s party as they snatch the treats from the pole.
These are photos from our six-week research visit to São Luís (Maranhão), Brazil, in the summer of 2017. It does not have a special theme, except that we are happy to be able to continue our research here and are continually amazed by the diversity and riches of the place.
We were preparing to go on the road again to interior to photograph and film a variety of local ways that Festa do Divino is celebrated here.
The following photos are from our first getting grounded in the city and attending a few events before getting on a bumpy bus ride to the interior.
The old Spanish/Portuguese steps were once a central path to the colonial center of São Luís. The Centro Historico is now preserved, more or less, but as an artifact. Non-tourist-related businesses and the middle class are scarcely represented, but the area is a primary a center for celebrations.
The old colonial walls are tatty and romantic on the surface, but the spaces behind them are often busy with market and artisan activity.
In the run-up to the festival, the central city teems with men and women in orange doing various preparations.
This area — Praia Grande — was once a busy waterfront shipping and fishing port. It has modernized to move cars and buses about, but the society around the area is complex and full of unresolved inequities.
Near Praia Grande, behind the vaguely romantic decay is some renovation (note windows) behind which are art galleries and shops.
In the central market building there are still traditional foods (here dried shrimp and farofa — processed cassava/mandioca flour). You can also buy a 50-kilo bag of garlic nearby — and, of course, bottles of fierce local products (see below)
The purple liqueur is tiquira, made from fermented manioc (cassava). The other products are various oils and sweets, mostly locally-produced (for example, candy from the buriti palm = buriti palm oil with lots of sugar).
This symbol is outside a liquor store in the central market. when he saw my interest he took hat from where he had hung it on it horns and went about sorting his liquor bottles. It seemed the wrong time to discuss theology and symbolics with him.
This macraméd tree stands in a plaza (Praça Nauro Machado) that is a center for popular celebrations and performances.
The city has a rich tradition of public art and graffiti. Old walls are often scenes of artistic and social expression. In São Paulo some of the public walls along the thoroughfares have been prepared with bricks and plantings to discourage public art such as this. Here, in São Luís, there are plenty of old walls waiting for people to express their politics.
My neighor’s business is on the street just around the corner from our pousada.
Altar at the celebration of Festo do Divino at the Casa de Mina Santa Maria. These icons and festivals were once dominated and promoted by the institutional Catholic Church, but are carried out by alternate spiritual and community groups outside official sanction. This part of the ceremony is the installation of the “tribunal” or symbolic royalty, reminiscent of colonial Portugal. The figure at lower right in the photo is wearing strings of beads that are symbolic of various Afro-Brazilian orixás worshiped here. The doves crown are the symbols traditionally here to represent the Holy Ghost/Espirito Santo.
Celebrant, drummer, Festa do Divino, Case de Mina Santa Maria
Children represent the imperial court at this celebration. They are selected a year in advance and for this day are elaborately dressed and prepared with make up. The ceremony is often difficult for them in the heat and humidity, as is the procession from a church through the streets in 90+ degree sun.
Member of the symbolic “imperial” tribunal that is installed in this ceremony
Caxiera in the (mostly) women’s tradition of drummers dedicated to the Espirito Santo. The origins of this custom is not clear, but this practice of “Drummers for the Holy Ghost) seems not to have stemmed from the original Catholic celebration.
Young caxeira, Casa de Mina Santa Maria, Festa do Espirito Santo. Although many of the drummers are of advanced age, the tradition is not dying out.
Caxiera, with younger members of the court/tribunal in the background.
Caboclo de Pena, Bumba-meu-boi de Maracanã. The entity “Guriatã” embroidered on his vest refers to a warrior spirit who prepares the way for the appearance of he enchanted being Rei Sebastião (the spirit of the Portuguese king lost in the 16th century in the Crusades). Kn Sebastian’s body was never found and there emerged a Portuguese cult of “Sebastionism” that awaits his return. the legend is merged with Maranhão lore, and King Sebastion is said to appear in the full moon on the dunes (Lencoís) as an enchanted ox with a red star on his head. Many practices (the day of Saint John, Sebastionism, and others) have merged with regional Brazilian legends and African-Brazilian practices.
Caboclo de Pena (representing a feathered AmerIndian, or perhaps a forest spirit or enchanted being)
Young Caboclo de Fita (ribboned caboclo, usually invoking an indio or mestiço figure from the colonial period).
Two singers in a new Bumba-meu-boi group, Boi de Pindaré. At left is Saviani who is best known for his years as a lead singer for Bumba-meu-boi de Floresta/Apolônio. Here he is supporting the new group, in its first rehearsals (held at the Casa de Nhozinho, a cultural center and museum)
Boy, with the new Bumba-meu-boi group, Boi de Pindaré. Most Brazilians are not shy around cameras, but they insist on striking a pose.
Percussionist (actually all musical accompaniment is percussion and singing)
Boi de Pindaré, rehearsal
Rehearsal — eventually she will probably dress as a tapúia, a figure invoking the AmerIndians of Maranhão as portrayed in the Baixada tradition of the Bumba-meu-boi
Rehearsing, playing matracas (blocks of wood struck together for rhythm)
Percussion, Boi de Pindaré
While watching the parade through the street, we were in the upstairs of a cultural building/museum (Casa de Nhozinho) where this example of local “bobbin lace” (renda de bilro) is displayed. The pins mark a pattern that is executed by maneuvering the bobbins back and forth.
The group Boi de Pindaré finishes its rehearsal and parades through the street. The ox (boi) leading the procession is newly-embroidered. It marks the occasion for founding this new group as a promessa (vow). The group is the fulfilment of a vow to honor their patron saint for granting health to the daughter of the organizer. The religious promessa is a heritage tradition important in the history of the Bumba-meu-boi, though commercial and political motivations are becoming common also.
Daytime view from our pousada, over neighboring buildings looking out to the bridge
View from our pousada — the bridge across the Rio Anil.
I first heard the phrase “Run what you brung” in southern auto and motorcycle racing. It usually signaled impatience when someone was complaining that the rights parts didn’t arrive, the carburetor is a bit off, the tires are too soft (or hard, or bald), or other of the endless reasons racers have for losing. This was a reminder to stop complaining and get to work with what you have.
The photos here are beachfront and research photos taken during January – April, 2016 with a small-sensor camera that fits into a pocket. It was already a couple of generations old when I used it, having been superceded by larger, and even “full-frame,” pocket cameras. I found that it was a terrific carry-along (even in a pants pocket while bicycling at the beach), and I gradually came to understand that there were images that were not only usable, but had certain special characteristics that were worth a bit of attention. It is still not my camera of choice for something I go out with the intention to photograph, but it is very versatile and helpful when you are in a place Like São Luís where it’s always good to have a camera with you.
Beachfront and City images
This egret (garça) on the Calhau Beach has appeared in an earlier post of my experiments with a small camera
The egret appeared in a January 2016 post on using a small camera (http://www.meredithwwatts.com/MWBrazilBlog/?m=201601 or scroll down to January).
This first post was shortly after losing most of our first-choice camera and video camera equipment, and we were adjusting to using our back-up equipment.
In these photographs the small camera was either the carry-along of choice because it slipped into my pants pocket, or it was all I had. The little camera often made it possible to find images that would have escaped me if I had needed to have a larger camera with me. Sometimes for reasons of convenience or security this is the kind of camera to have. Since this model of camera was made, many more with larger sensors and better image quality are available, but few are more “pocketable.” And as the old photographers’ saying goes, “The best camera is the one you have with you.” (That is, “run what you brung…”)
Beachfront bar at the Ohlo d’agua beach in São Luis. The beach is known in local legends for enchanted beings that appear here, but I don’t think they come to the “Bar São Sebastião.”
These are the heroes of the Calhau Beach. Dressed in heavy sun protection these workers appear every morning to clean up the beach. As the day wears on, debris from the sea and from beach goers assures their jobs for another day.
This concrete slab bears a mosaic evoking Maranhão popular culture, as the rainy season softens its grip and the skies are blue for more of the day.
Spanish/Portuguese-style steps leading from the upper to lower historical canter of São Luís. This man is drying his laundry on what was once an elegant downtown city passage.
Graffiti in São Luís. The building behind this wall may be renovated one day, but this is still a run-down and picturesque part of the historical center. The plaza this wall faces appears to have been designed for speeches or small theater or dance productions, but it seems mostly abandoned now.
Graffiti in São Luís. This mural refers to an “urban quilombo,” a metaphorical version of the centuries-old form of rural community formed by escaped and freed slaves, sometimes with the support and participation of indigenous people and others. For centuries the quilombos provided a haven of sorts for freed slaves and their supporters.the biggest of them historically, Palmares, was destroyed by government troops and adventurers in the mid-18th century.
Barracas, or beachside stands, Calhau Beach, São Luís. In a couple of hours the vendors will show up, stock the huts with green coconuts, and spend the day selling “agua de coco,” coconut water.
Research on “cultura popular” Marenhense (popular culture in Maranhão)
Working with back-up equipment for photographing in our research project on popular culture, I often used the pocket camera. This women directs a Bumba-meu-boi in one of Maranhão’s smaller cities. This is in the workshop where costumes and equipment are prepared. She is here reflected in a broken mirror among the props. She is a remarkably energetic performer and group leader, and helped he group, Bumba-meu-boi de Rama Santa be a very popular attraction in Sao Luis in the June festival.
Interviewee for our “Women in Popular Culture” project in the interior of Maranhao . Here she is reflected in a broken mirror in the workshop of the group she leads, Bumba-meu-boi de Rama Santa in Cururupu.
This couple directs a Bumba-meu-boi group in a town near Mirinzal. Far from the capital of São Luís they practice this heritage celebration on a a virtually non-existent budget. In the older way of celebrating, most of the work is done by the participants, including the construction of their own costumes and, of course, the boi itself (the 4-foot ox figure that is danced in the festival).
“Corroça do Boi,” (an oxcart) hauling bricks in Mirinzal. In this part of the interior the rural economy agriculture is a critical part of the life, and cattle serve in many ways. This is a real-life version of the emblematic animal whose name is carried in the Bumba-meu-boi festival, Maranhao’s most popular and widespread celebration.
This woman was a leading celebrant of the Bumba-meu-boi until she lost her sight. Here, in the city of Mirinzal.
This post describes two areas in the north of Maranhão — the first is the vast stretch of dunes of the Lençóis Ecological Park. The Lençois Park encompasses just under 600 square miles. The 2005 Brazilian film House of Sand was filmed in the park.
The second is the fishing village of Raposa, which is known for its access to wandering rivers, islands, and eventually the Atlantic Ocean. Raposa is also known for its local artisans who are specialized in making nets and in a specialized fabric form known as “renda de bilro.” Renda is a form of of knitting or crocheting that is done with threads stretched over a large stuffed ball that is like a round pillow. Each string is connected to a stick with a ball at the end that artisans cross over again and again to form lace and fabric. The design is formed around pins stuck into the ball that are guides for the yarn.
Lençois
The north coast of the Brazilian state of Maranhão has a huge expanse of dunes that reach along the Atlantic for miles. During the rainy season (roughly December to May) fresh water fills small lakes and lagoons along the dunes. The water gives the park its name of Lençois, which means “sheets,” since the lakes look like sheets spread out across the desert landscape.
The first photo set is of the Lençóis Ecological Park (also called Lençóis Maranhenses) is a protected national park that is reached from the small town of Barreirinhas. The town itself lies on the Rio Preguiça the “lazy river.”
The river winds lazily through the north Maranhão landscape toward the Atlantic Ocean. Along the way it forms the barrier (the root of the name Barreirinhas) which is a huge sand dune at the edge of town. The river moves slowly toward the ocean, becoming more brackish along the way. It is home to and vast stretches of mangrove trees that drop long air roots into the brackish water. As the water become more salty near the ocean, the palm trees and mangroves disappear in favor of a forested area — which itself gives way to the dunes and the Atlantic Ocean.
Lençóis
The Lençóis Ecological Park is a protected area of dunes on the Atlantic Ocean. The desert landscape is dotted with hundreds of lakes and lagoons formed during the rainy season.
It’s late in the rainy season, and the road to the dunes leads through several miles of unimproved roads.
The classic transportation to the dunes from the nearby town of Barreirinhas is a modified Toyota HiLux four=wheel-drive truck. The drivers are often referred to as “Toyoteiros.“
The Toyoteiros are highly skilled drivers who seem to know the daily changes in the muddy, sandy tracks to the dunes. If you get stuck here you are, well, really stuck.
A long lagoon reaching through the dunes
Though the vegetation is sparse, some of the smaller dunes are held in place by plants.
In the late afternoon the sun begins to sink over the Atlantic to the west
A skilled guide can point out the few animals to be found there. This, they claim, is the world’s smallest frog. There are also foxes and occasional wild horses and donkeys that roam free on the dunes.
This was actually my birthday, almost
The two of us at one of the lagoons. This may have been the one called “Lagoa Toyoteiro,” named in honor of the Toyota drivers who get you there
A lagoon reaching toward the sinking sun over the Atlantic Ocean
The hardy, and younger, visitors scramble across the soft sand and the higher dunes. Some of us get by with hiking sticks and a little help from our friends. These sticks have baskets at the tips, and were probably designed for hiking in European snow and ice. They were perfect, and were lifesavers in the steep sand inclines.
The lakes are all the same, and all are different. They vary in color from aqua to deep blue to nearly black.
The beauty of the lagoons can cause you to forget that this is actually a desert.
Looking to the north in the late afternoon
Heliconia flowers near the pousada on the Rio Preguiça (Lazy River) where we stayed. There are many varieties of this flower, which is sometimes also called the “false bird of paradise.” This one was on a plant some 12 feet high.
The Rio Preguiça behind the pousada. The word “preguiça” means lazy, but can also mean the animal known in English as a sloth, in English. They can be found here also, they say. So can great stands of palms and açai berries.
The Rio Preguiça is lined with palms of many types, such as buriti (which is used for everything), and carnauba (used for wax and many cosmetics)
One of the small fishing/utility boats, powered by what appears to be a 2-cycle lawnmower motor with a propeller driven by an extension of the crankshaft.
Much of the river population is supported by tourism and by fishing. Here fish are being dried in the sun
For the tourists who don’t want to hike up to the lighthouse a short distance away, this entrepreneur has a dizzying array of liqueurs and drinks made from various local plants and fruits. We went to the lighthouse instead of this boutique country bar. Those less enthusiastic about the claustrophobic climb up the lighthouse with dozens of sweating tourists with selfie sticks can avoid the climb by sitting in the low branches of a nearby cashew (cajú) tree.
Along the river — a mix of fishing docks and buildings.
Raposa
The fishing village of Raposa has developed a route for visitors. It includes little boats that take you among the wandering harbor and the mangroves to the fishing island of Curupuru. There is a street of renda and net makers as well.
This form of weaving/crocheting (sometimes called “renda“) was apparently brought to Raposa by migrants from the region of Ceara, further to the east of Brazil.
Though there is only one color, this is an incredibly complex design required some sixty bobbins and pins to sort out the design.
Women creating renda sit in open houses or on a boardwalk working on designs and sometimes tending the shops. Some designs, like this one, are very complex and require many skeins of yarn, pins and bobbins.
Raposa fisherman gathering boats together for lunch (they were having fish)
The small island of Cururupu has some private property but is protected for use by local fishermen
Fisherman on the island of Cururupu
Untangling the nets in the lagoon off Cururupu island.
The “renda” street is lined with small cottages and buildings, This man is carrying the ubiquitous “cofu,” a basket woven from the leaves from the buriti palm. Cofus are found all over Maranhão where they are used for carrying and storing virtually everything.
Frankfurt was our first European layover after leaving Brazil. We only stayed about three days, enough to begin accustoming ourselves to 5-15 degree (Celsius) temperatures (after leaving São Luis at about 30 degrees and São Paulo at about 25.
This meant buying a jacket and a warm hat.
It was also a time to visit family and friends, and a few museums, around Frankfurt/Hessen.
Wiesbaden is a former aristocratic spa that was spared in World War because the American military wanted it as a headquarters. The American presence is reduced now, and the city has a charm and commercial/artistic character of its own.
Below is a figure commemorating the German unification. The meaning of the green man is a bit unclear to the casual visitor, but he is a symbol nonetheless. In the background of the photo is an old hotel that has been refunctioned into apartments. We stayed in a dear friend’s place there, looking down on the green man.
A statue commemorating German unification.
This is another view of Kranzplatz and the hotel. It shows why the “bad” (bath) in Wiesbaden. Beneath the city are hot mineral springs that have for centuries been used as thermal baths and spas. This mineral fountain bubbles constantly in the cool March air, giving off a faint smell of rotten eggs. Nearby there is a bulletin posting the mineral content and offering a drinking fountain of the water.
Below is an example of Wiesbaden functional public art. It decorates one wall of a playground and park that is usually filled with children, families, and a multicultural mix of Germans and immigrants.
Wiesbaden park/playground, Kranzplatz.
Below is the Russian-Orthodox Church, also known locally as the “Griechische Kapelle.” Above the city of Wiesbaden, it looks down into a valley through surrounding forests. Many visitors mention feeling a sense of meditative calm when they visit the church, as did we.
The church was built by architect Philip Hoffman for Duke Adolf von Nassau to commemorate the early death of his wife, a 19-year old Russian princess. It was dedicated in 1853 and has been maintained since as a center for worship of an active orthodox community in Wiesbaden and Hessen.
Wiesbaden offers a spa, a casino, opera, and ballet — and the world’s largest cuckoo clock (really!). But for many visitors the “Greek Chapel” is the most beautiful and culturally interesting of the city’s sites.
The Russian Orthodox chapel (known locally as the Griechische Kapelle), a famous landmark in the Taunus mountains above the center of Wiesbaden.
The Frankfurt Museum of Modern Art
For the serious visitor, there is a multi-card available at the visitor’s office on the Römerplatz (next to the city hall). The card offers discounts on multiple museum visits in a day. We visited the Miró exhibit at the Schirn Gallerie and the Museum of Modern Art before the day ran out.
German museums have followed the international museum trend of allowing visitors to photograph works of art. Unfortunately I didn’t take photos of the Miró exhibit and found out only later that I might have. That exhibit highlighted the artist’s fascination with large works that simulated rural farm walls in their backgrounds. Most of the canvasses appeared to have been painted on farm walls. This was a perspective on the “materiality” of his works that I had not seen before.
Interior of Frankfurt Museum of Modern Art (1). There is also a museum (2), but this one is the premier building, worth visiting just for the architecture itself.
The lead exhibit in the Frankfurt Museum of Modern Art was curated by John Forsythe, the American choreographer who had just finished 25 years in Frankfurt. He curated an exhibition in which virtually all the pieces used the visitor as part of the installation.
Visitors entered the art installations, danced, swung from gymnastic rings, crawled into small spaces, struggled to enter doors, looked into rooms that seemed to house a sleeping or dead person, and so on.
In this piece, dance steps are given on the floor (an Arthur Murray-type fox trot I think). A museum attendant helped us figure out what to do.
In another era this might have been a number in a Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers movie.
An installation in the Frankfurt Art Museum. Simone dances with a museum attendant.
This is probably self-explanatory, but I’m at a loss to explain why i liked it so much.
This exhibition has a title referring to a Chinese ghost descending a mountain. It appears static at first, but as you walk around the vases they uncover pictures together than unfold the story. It is a piece of work to enter and walk around many times.
From the photo you can probably see that the vases have different elements of the picture, allowing the story to unfold like an old-fashioned deck of pictures that show a moving scene when flipped. This is more meditative.
This is probably also self-explanatory, though why one stands so long looking at it is not clear to me (even as I did it). It is like the cover of a crime or mystery novel, but without having any story other than the one you bring to it.
These gymnastic rings in the photo below invite you to cross the room (which is itself the art work) on the rings. We didn’t see anybody do it. Most ended up hanging helplessly like this person. Maybe that is the point. It may be a meditation on humility.
In the photo below “Old Bridge” crosses the Main River from the area of the Römerplatz to the Museum Embankment (Museum Ufer) where there are a dozen or so museums, each worth a half day or more.
I’ve seen this custom of attaching locks to a bridge in Cologne near the art museum there, and I understand that is widely done throughout Europe. A common interpretation is that it ia done by couples to signify lasting love. There is even a story of a bridge in Paris where tons of locks were removed because they threatened the integrity of the bridge.
The custom reminds me of the light poles outside some museums where visitors stick their exposition stickers when they leave. Someday a cultural anthropologist will find this interesting and write a monograph about it.
Locks that may signify lasting love for the people who place them there.
The Main River from the “Alte Brücke” that leads pedestrians from the Römerplatz to the Museum Ufer where the far embankment of the Main houses a dozen or so museums. We are looking back at the Frankfurter Dom, he cathedral just to the left of center in the photo.
Northern Italy Between Venice and the Julian Alps: Udine, Tarvisio, Palmanova, Aquilaea, Vila Manin, Castelmonte, Gemona, Cividale, Venzone.
Within a few hours drive of Venice are vast regions of Roman cities and ruins, the base of the Italian army during World War I (close to the invading Austro-Hungarian border), regional villages, and the remnants of a major earthquake that changed the landscape and wiped out cities in 1976. A bit further to the north is the city of Trieste, which is treated in a separate blog.
Udine is the center of our trips here. Not as well known as Venice, it is a major regional city and former Roman outpost.
Tarvisio: From a cable car in the Julian Alps, just a few miles from the Slovenian and Austrian borders.
Tarvisio, Julian Alps: top of the mountain range
Tarvisio
Venzone, the “Lavender Shop.” The region is known for its lavender blossoms that are used for scents and practically everything else.
Venzone — a medieval village in Friuli that was rebuilt after the 1976 earthquake destroyed many towns in the region. The old city wall reconstructed.
The old square in Udine. It was a Roman outpost, later part of the Venice administration, now center of the region of Friuli.
Udine along the canal.
Believe it or not, a bathroom in the Udine modern art museum. It was built in a huge house bequeathed by a fabric merchant. This display is his actual bathroom, with undersized fixtures for his small stature. The shoe forms seem to be added to make this bathroom an artistic installation.
The eccentric dining hall of the fabric merchant’s bequest — the art is oversized, the furniture sized smaller for his proportions.
Steps from the old Udine center to the church/museum of traditional art.
From the top of the stairs, in front of the church/museum — looking out over the valley around Udine.
Vila Manin, residence of the last Doge of Venice and legendarily a short-term residence of Napoleon before his march on Europe.
The Vila Manin now houses a museum, here showing an exhibition of Mirós late works from his Mallorca period. This symbolically reconstructs one of his work spaces.
Vila in early evening with some blue left in the sky.
Aquilea — a major Roman outpost and shipping port. Now the whole city is a museum (you get an audio guide that literally takes you through the entire town). This is a mosaic preserved in the floor of the church of the patriarchate. Some parts of the church are about a thousand years old.
A marble statue in the church of the patriarchate.
Mosaic with a ram motif.
From the vast collection of Roman statuary in Aquilaea.
The Adriatic coast of Grado, Italy. A popular resort in season, but more pensive in March.
House in Grado, Italy
Wall of Miracles in Castelmonte. The pictures and other artifacts memorialize events in which it was believed that the Virgin Mary miraculously intervened.
Detail of one of the miracles. Unlike the Middle Ages where miracles were often associated with plague and war, these events are often associated with modern mishaps — here, a farm accident.
An old well and statues on the rest of Castelmonte, sunset
Arch in the mountain church of Castelmonte.
A pastel evening, just at dusk, from the Devil’s Bridge in Cividale.
In the mountains near Interneppo — an old watercourse leading from the mountains down into the valley.
Church in Gemona, at the epicenter of the 1976 earthquake. Much of the church was badly damaged. The off-kilter pillars (especially at the left) are not an effect of the camera lens — they were shifted in the earthquake and left off-center when the church was rebuilt.
This remainder of a crucifix from the earthquake has been especially set as a memorial to the disaster and the recovery.
As a frontier city between Italy and the regions of the Austro-Hungarian empire (now Slovenia and Austria), the city of Trieste is a fascinating mix of languages and cultures. It has four official languages — Italian, Slovenian, Friulian (Eastern Laldino) and German.
It has been occupied by the Romans, the Habsburgs, Mussolini’s Fascist regime, and a mixed regime of allied forces after World War II. It reverted to Italy in 1954 as the Allied occupation withdrew. Officially it is the capital of the autonomous region of Friuli Venezia Giulia.
It is located on the sea and is a major port. In the photo below the sea below has extensive oyster beds that seem to be tended by boats like the one below.
Not far from the view above is Miramar Castle which was built by Maximilian, brother of Ferdinand, Emperor of the Austro-Hungarian empire. He was commander of the navy and built this seaside complex as an appropriate residence for his status, interests in the sea, and culture.
It was completed in 1860, but he lived there only a few years before receiving an appointment as the Habsburg emperor of Mexico. He took the office n 1864 but it happened that the Mexicans did not want a European emperor. In the 1867 rebellion the regime was overthrown and Maximilian killed.
As it happens, I visited the ramparts of the castle in Mexico City where the resistance fighters made a stand and a number of cadets lost their lives in the fight. This was a major event in Mexican history, but in the slightly smarmy audio tour of Miramar there is scarcely mention of this (amid the lavish praise for his culture and lifestyle).
His wife Carla lived on for decades thereafter, but the empire in the New World was lost. The rest of the empire was lost and divided when the Habsburgs found themselves in World War I some some 50 years later.In fact as history buffs will remember, the triggering event of WWI was the assassination of the Habsburg Archduke Ferdinand in Sarajevo in 1914.
Maximilian’s Mexican empire was never fully established. It was not recognized by the U.S., was supported provisionally by French forces, and never conquered the resistance forces of Benito Juarez. After the American Civil War the United States supported Juarez more strongly, the French troops withdrew, and Maximilian was left exposed.
Miramar, last residence of Maximilian, younger brother of Emperor Franz Joseph.
Central staircase in Miramar, residence of Habsburg archduke Maximilian. He lived here from its completion in 1860 until his appointment as emperor of Mexico in 1864. The castle is a museum of the last days of the empire, both its culture and its distance from developments in Europe and the New World.
A well-known Trieste cafe/restaurant with Austrian-style dishes (e.g., diverse meats, horseradish, gallons of beer).
James Joyce lived in Trieste for about a dozen years after 1904. He is memorialized in this statue. Various sources delight in recounting which of his works were written or drafted here.
Historic buildings line the Trieste canal which leads from the center of town to the sea off to the right.
The central canal in Trieste, leading to the sea off to the right. At upper left is the Greek Orthodox Church, one of many religions represented in Trieste’s complex culture. One of Europe’s largest synagogues is also here in Trieste.
Waiting for coffee, these empire-style mirrors were irresistible.
Selfies…
Every Trieste cafe advertises itself as “classic” or “iconic.” Most do have good coffee and ambience.
Trieste’s central plaza (Piazza Unitá) is one of the largest in the world (in Trieste they maintain it is the largest, though why it should be so in a city of 200,000 is unclear). In March there is room for everybody to sit about undisturbed.
These photos are from a walkabout in Venice during March, 2016. We were with the Antonelli family from Udine and were guided by Erika Antonelli who lives and works in Venice. This local guidance from a dear friend is one reason that many photos are from small side streets in Venice, from the water canal and its commuter taxi, and from the train/auto terminal as you exit the city. We saw the major sights in the central plazas of the city, but it was a chilly day with construction going on and platforms everywhere to be erected if the water was high. Even the gondolas were more available and interesting because they were short of passengers and busied themselves with small chores, maintenance of the boats, or were simply happy to have us around. It was exactly the way I would like to see such a place — with a friend to guide us, a shortage of tourists due to the season, and plenty of time for lunch and a stroll.
On our way to a restaurant where Erika Antonelli works, we found this produce store, floating in the canal.
A floating fruit and vegetable market.
One of many quiet streets/canals with most tourists waiting for better weather.
In the smaller streets we spent time in the shops — well, some did, and except for the jewelry artisan (see photo below) stayed on the street to photograph.
The artisanal mask shops were especially fascinating (though some in our party liked the jewelry crafts better).
Venetian mask shop
The familiar masks below have many apocryphal origins — my favorite is that they were worn in during the plague by people who had to handle the sick, dying and the dead.
Some who saw the British production of “Sleep No More” would have put on masks like these to wander among the artists during the play.
Erika seemed to know this jewelry artisan who allowed me to photograph her at work inside her shop. The only time I entered a jewelry store.
A Venetian jewelry artisan.
Quiet streets and brooding skies. It was chilly ad the famous Venetian mosquitoes and tourist were scarce.
The gondoleer was less busy than during the tourist season and was here cleaning up his boat and the steps of his dock. It was curiously familiar to see the boatsmen as working people doing normal tasks, rather than just bearing up under an onslaught of tourist with little cameras, cell phones, and selfie sticks.
Between riders — which was a long time on this chilly March day — the gondoleer cleans up and does some maintenance of his dock and boat.
Even the ice cream shops were short of customers. It was too chilly for us too, and we opted for coffee along the way.
Another street/canal with boats at rest. I have been in Venice before, but never during such beautiful, lonely, and reflective time.
Gondolas at rest. Notice that they list to one side — this, we are told, is because the gondoleer stands slightly off-center and balances the boat.
A gondola marina with ship anchored in the harbor — under March skies.
This is Erika’s Antonelli’s finger pointing out the court on the left and the jail on the right. The walkway in the background shortens the time between sentencing and being herded off to the wet dungeons in the basement or the sun-baked cells above.
The short walk between the court and the dungeon.
The harborside walk is dotted with kiosks selling masks and Venetian tourist souvenirs.
The photo below is taken from a water taxi. Unlike the gondolas, which are picturesque and inefficient, the commuter taxis are power boats that dock periodically at quayside stops that are like subway stops in a landlocked city. The taxi takes you to the outer edge of the city where you can catch a train or pick up your car for the trip by land.
Early evening from a water taxi. The waterside villas and restaurants are beginning to put on their lights but the light has not quite gone out of the sky, leaving it a moody deep blue.
As our water taxi slowed to wend its way under the Rialto Bridge, this gondoleer passed us and the brightly-it dockside. Photographers will notice that he was kind enough to come by in HDR (the high-definition photographic technique used to bring out dark areas of a photo or film and sometimes produce surrealistic images).
The Rialto Bridge.
Below is one view of the terminal complex as you leave the city for land connections. The terminal and parking structure is in the background, the commuter trains in the lower section of the photo.
We arrived by car and train and left by water taxi and car. The commute takes some patience, as life on the water normally does.
Venice has its own Calatrava-designed bridge leading out of the city. It is a pedestrian bridge, elegant but still impassible for those with mobility limitations. It is slippery in the wet weather and altogether impractical, though elegant. Milwaukeeans may remember that Calatrava’s bridge from downtown to the Milwaukee Art Museum also had to be redesigned for safety and access.
The Calatrava bridge leading out of Venice. Its geometry is elegant and the footing uncertain in damp weather.
These photos are a small fraction of the images from our visit to Seoul and Cheanon, Korea in March, 2016. They are not thought of as a representation of Korea, but are simply some of the places we visited.
The goal of the trip was to spend a bit more than a week with the dance communities of Cheanon and Seoul, involving at least four universities that had dance programs. The time for actual touring and photographing was compressed and often done along the way to another commitment.
The dance photos will be the subject of another blog, but this is just a survey of some images from:
The “welcoming/farewell committee” for tourists at Incheon Airport
Scenes of the region’s urban density
A few peaceful places (a lovely lake, a reonstructed 17th century folklore village)
The Gakwonsa Buddhist temple complex near Cheanon
The imperial castle complex of the Joseon Empire, in the middle of Seoul (Gyeongbokgung Palace, established in the 14th century)
But first, to get this out of the way: The Koreans are not above entertaining visitors with costume melodrama at the Incheon Airport. We happened to be leaving Seoul when this procession came by.
They were actually a bit in the way as we struggled along with our luggage, but both western and Asian travelers lined up to take this picture. So did I, I’m afraid.
Welcoming/farewell committee at Incheon Airport, Seoul, Korea
In the region around Seoul there are cities, mountains, and very little “country.” There is agriculture in tiny plots all around the highways and urban spaces, but this is not the place for farms.
It is a place or urban high-tech consumption with shopping only hindered by the need for the newcomer to figure out what is behind the brilliant signs and lights.
This is along the main street of Cheanon, just at the entrance of a network of smaller commercial streets.
This area seems to have a 24-hour culture, with even Korean saunas staying up all night in some areas. You can spend the night there eating squid and baking under hot rocks or on beds of Himalayan salt.
Main street, Cheanon, Korea, at the entrance of a dense network of shops, all brightly lit for most of the night.
Along the main commercial street
Crossing from huge department stores to smaller shops in the inner commercial district. The crush of cars and public transportation is immense.
This is a pizza shop along one of the smaller commercial streets, with plastic sheeting against the March damp and chill.
Pizza shop, in the interior of the Cheanon shopping district.
The photo below is from the apartment in Cheanon where we stayed. The traffic is nearly constant, reminding me of the 24-hour traffic jams in São Paulo, except that here they (sometimes) move faster.
The lake at the right is dotted with several universities and schools, along with small agricultural plots in virtually every unbuilt space.
Traffic along the Seoul-Cheanon highway. The lake on the right is dotted with universities and small gardens.
A reconstructed historic village. Asan Village seems to have its origins in the 14th century with a major expansion in the 16th and 17th centuries. It is preserved and open to visitors.
It is meant to give a flavor of the diversity of class and status in the village. In mid-March we were there just as the buds began to open on the flowering trees.
A house in Asan Village, near Cheanon, Korea. The stoneware pots stored food, oils and, of course, kim-chee (the distinctive Korean dish made from cabbage fermented in garlic and spice).
A more regal home in Asan Village, just as the blossoms begin to open in March.
This is at sunset in a city near Cheanon. The sky is still wintery, but the blossoms are beginning to open.
Because of the concentration of population in the Seoul region and because of the density of mountains here, the building go up. Wide open spaces are rare and far from the city. There are peaceful places in the mountains, though, and the Temple of Gak Won Sa (below) is one example.
Well outside Seoul the urban density is still remarkable. From an apartment we visited, we are looking down on what must be about a 35 story building!
The lake below is in Cheanon and was visible in the traffic photo. It is oddly peaceful in the morning and between classes of the surrounding universities.
This is the lake shown in the traffic photo. Remarkably, it is a peaceful place for walking. Between classes it is filled with students from nearby schools and universities, but early in the morning it has a certain beauty.
The Independence Museum is also in the region of Cheanon. It chronicles and dramatizes the struggle for independence of Korea — from the Chinese and, most of all, the Japanese.
Displays and dioramas are deeply patriotic and dramatic about the rigors of war and occupation.
Monument at the entry of the Independence Museum, near Cheanon, Korea.
The Gyeongbokgung Palace is in the center of modern Seoul. It is the site of the Joseon emperors who united the three major kingdoms of Korea and fought back the Chinese and Japanese. Their territory actually extended into parts of current China and still provide for historical arguments about territory (as do Korea’s relations with Japan).
This is one of the imperial buildings with blossoms opening. The trees have an enormous symbolic and esthetic value and are usually surrounded by visitors photographing themselves in front of the trees.
In fact, the blossoming of the trees at times turns into a plague of selfies. The young women here posed for visitors, and when there was nobody posing with them they posed themselves.
This is not the place for authenticity (see welcoming committee in the opening photograph), but it is pretty nevertheless. For “authenticity,” they will put away their cell phones and pose with visitors.
The Gak Won Sa temple and grounds represent a large temple complex in the mountains near Cheanon. It is said that in the 1970’s it was dedicated to prayers for the unification of North and South Korea. It is nestled near Mt. Taejosan
The statue of the Buddha is some 15 meters high (about 45 feet). A common observance is to walk clockwise around the buddha and bowing in front of him on every circle. The person below is doing just that, and her figure gives a sense of the immensity of the statue. Mt Taejosal is in the background.
The Buddha
There are many other buildings of the temple complex. In some the smaller temples are open for visitors to meditate. This is one of them where I spent the afternonn.
Rows of colored lanterns in front of the statue of the Buddha.
Detail of the eaves and roof outline of one of the smaller temples.
Videos on the Bumba-meu-boi, and the Festa do São Gonçalo do Amarante and the Festa do Divino.
The Bumba-meu-boi videos were filmed and edited by Simone Ferro of performances at the June, 2015 celebration in São Luís.
This corresponds to our time with a Study Abroad course with dancers from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. If some of you were among that group, you may recognize these groups.
The videos are available on Vimeo and at the links below.
Bumba-meu-boi Encanto da Ilha (in the rhythmic style known as “Orquestra”)
Boi Lirio de São João (also in the Orquestra style, or sotaque).
This following video shows moments of the Festa do São Gonçalo de Amarante and the Celebration of the Divine Spirit (Festa do Divino) in Pindaré.
It features the women drummers of Pindaré (called caixeiras), and especially the group led by “Maria Caixeiras,” a woman whose name carries her identity as a drummer. In one sequence, the drummers of her group are joined by members from the quilombo “Communidade Vila Maria.” (A quilombo is a community or settlement formed by escaped and released slaves, sometimes with some indigenous people as well. Maranhão has over 300 such communities.)
The post from November 2015 post contains photos and text describing more of these festivals.
Coming: More posts on the Bumba-meu-boia and a few brief clips from an Umbanda ceremony to Oxum, orixá of water.
This is a preliminary reflection on water in Brazil, a country that, in principle, has enough for its needs and then some. The problem is in the distribution and management of water, and in the infrastructure that should carry it to the Brazilian population. Later versions of this post will have more research and photos, but this preliminary reflection is a rough overview of Brazil’s water situation as we have seen it over the last few months. Some of these photos have appeared in earlier posts about life in the interior.
What I show here is what I have experienced and photographed in Brazil — mostly in the northeast state of Maranhão, which is among the poorest and least developed in Brazil. My own subjective experience is augmented by reportage from São Paulo and Maranhão newspapers and weekly journals.
In a povoada (unincorporated settlement) near Rosário a woman carries water from a common water tank. The road and the scene could be from many countries in Africa, but this is less than three hours south from the Maranháo capital city of Sáo Luís. In this photo the season that brings rain is still weeks away and it has been dry for months.
Not far from the city of Mirinzal, on the road near a povoada in the region known as the Baixada Occidental. This driver is carrying a water tank to used where there is no municipal water supply or plumbing.
Some Larger Issues: Water in the Amazon and the Interior
The world is familiar with issues of conservation of the forests and aquifers in the Amazon region of Brazil. The area is being deforested at an astonishing rate by miners, lumber companies, farming businesses, and others. Farming of the lucrative cattle and grain products (e.g., soy beans) is creating more food and less water.
Directly or indirectly, forest and water in this region is especially threatened by the world’s demand for meat — either as cattle raised here or the grain used (and massively exported) to feed cattle elsewhere. Some sources say that soy would be nine times more efficient as a source of protein if used directly, rather than being used as cattle feed to produce meat. Much of the cattle ranching in Brazil is based on free range and thus needs space — this is perhaps the biggest threat to Brazil’s forests and water.
Water in São Paulo, and the Missing 20,000 Water Tanks
São Paulo’s reservoirs are threatened by a long, dry season. Their replenishment is a matter of nature providing enough rain in the wet season. But these problems are to some extent predictable and the infrastructure to manage a shortage has not yet been built.
Again, a major problem is in the distribution system. In São Paulo there are eight major systems. They are only partly connected and metro-wide “integration” of the water infrastructure is an engineer’s dream and a very problematic political task.
Brazil is currently plagued with a declining economy and is hobbled at the national level by corruption and feuding over ethics investigations, the jailing of leading political figures, and the possible impeachment of others. In São Paulo the political situation is seems less contentious, but the water infrastructure demands a huge investment that is not readily accomplished in times of economic stress.
As an example, the northern zone of greater São Paulo is somewhat distant from the central commercial district and it houses a millions of people with modest incomes and standard of living. This region is fed by the Cantareira water reserve, which has fallen to as low as 15% of capacity and has only recovered a few percent since the rains of the summer (i.e., the months that are winter in the Northern hemisphere).
Cantareira dropped to a “dead volume” — the level at which water does not freely flow out of the reservoir but must be pumped. This depletes the volume further until, in theory, they reach the mud at the bottom and the system fails entirely. This has not been happened, but the measures to improve the situation have been difficult.
At full efficiency the Cantareira reservoir supplies 31 thousand liters of water a second to 9 million people. By September (24th) the newspaper Fohla de São Paulo reported that the system had fallen to about half that performance — to 14 thousand liters/second and 9 million to 5 million people. The slack in providing water to the northern region of the city has been taken up by shifting some load to other systems.
Load sharing is more effective if there is a metropolitan-wide system of integration, but that is not yet in place.
Another second tactic is rationing. This modifies the behavior of end-users by simply shrinking the supply or, alternately, the hours of access. According to some newspaper accounts, certain areas of the affected zone are often without water for several days. Sometimes the rationing is by time of day, reportedly as low in some places as 20 of 24 hours with dry faucets and toilets. This is a working district so people may not be in their homes when there is water. They need water tanks (caixas d’agua) that could be filled and would bridge the off-times of the municipal water.
The São Paulo mayor Geraldo Alckmin promised 20,000 new water tanks to be installed in troubled areas. Thar was during an election campaign. Only a fraction have been installed. The city claims that they have not been able to deliver the tanks to many (or even most) households because nobody is home when the trucks come by (during the working hours of the city employees, of course). This troubled half-solution is proceeding slowly, and only (it appears) under great pressure from the press.
Yet, the water tank is a basic feature of the Brazilian countryside and of most towns and cities in the interior. Even in better-supplied areas, homes, businesses and factories use the tanks to stabilize their water supply. This is true all over Brazil, in cities and in rural areas.
The problem, again, is one of distribution. In this case it is the far-flung neighborhoods of São Paulo working people that are at the short end of the distribution chain.
But load sharing and infrastructure provide one approach to redistributing the water supply. Another is modifying consumer behavior. For those that are more generously supplied there are a number of incentives to reduce consumption. São Paulo initiated a system of fees (equivalent to fines) for usage above normal, and included a bonus for reductions in use. Modifying consumer behavior in the better-supplied systems theoretically freed water to be distributed to the troubled districts such as those served by the Cantareira Reservoir.
By March, 2016 the São Paulo situation had improved considerably due to heavy rains. As a sign of improvement the system of fees and bonuses was scheduled to be suspended.
Recycling and Waste Management
There is an interconnected set of issues where water supply is limited and waste management is troubled. In this small city of Mirinzal trash is routinely dumped (see large appliances at photo right) and used tires are unceremoniously left about. Both catch water during the wet season and become possible breeding grounds for mosquitoes. In days of the Aedes Aegipti mosquito, such diseases as Zika, Chikunkunya and Dengue are major public issues (as is the spread of microencephalitis for which the mosquite may be a vector).
Managing water in the rainy season is important in its own way, as is distributing water in scarcity. Trash and waste disposal are deeply interconnected with the water supply in both rural and urban areas.
Mirinzal, Maranhão. The discarded appliances at the right are problematic, as are the tires. Both hold stagnant, standing water where mosquitoes breed. In this case, it appears that the tires have been filled with dirt and are being turned into a garden of sorts. This is the rare case, though.
Some Views from the Interior
Water tanks are ubiquitous in the smaller cities of Brazil. The tanks are vital in the interior regions with no municipal water supply (photo above of ox cart, and the section below on caixas d’agua). Settlements and towns in the country are often spread along rivers and water sources, but those sources are heavily used, vulnerable and the water often dries up or is unsafe. The woman in the photo above is carrying household water from a common water source to her home. This is not an unusual scene in povoadas. The most common source is be a well or a jointly-used water tank. Rarely does a natural source meet local needs during the dry season.
Since much of our research is based in the provincial capital of São Luís and in the interior of the state of Maranhão, most of the photographs below are of that region. Not shown are the indigenous regions of the interior where in September of 2015 there was a major water emergency, exacerbated by fires, in the forests of the interior. Several cities declared water emergencies and much forested land was threatened. There was insufficient water to fight a major fire.
These issues compound problems created by both nature by human and political behavior.
By comparison, São Paulo officials said that the water situation was only “really serious” when we begin to see trucks of water roaming the streets of the city.
In São Luís we see the water trucks almost daily.
Water in the federal state of Maranhão
Maranhão is a long way from the metropolitan centers of Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo. Like those centers, it is on or near the Atlantic Ocean, but is dependent on its fresh water sources in the interior. These systems are underdeveloped in general, and subject to shortages in dry seasons.
Readers of Brazilian popular fiction and many films are aware that the region of the sertão (often translated as “backlands”) has been depopulated for decades because of drought.
This region is has similarities to America’s “dust bowl” which emptied out much of the western region of the American Midwest during the dust storms of several decades ago. In the United States this gave rise to a national rural recovery administration. This period was memorialized in such books/films as John Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath, and in the photography of Dorothea Lange and others working for the Farm Services Administration.
The sertao is Brazil’s rough analogue to the American dust bowl. It is not geographically part of the federal state of Maranhão, but some of the dry-season problems of Maranhão are reminiscent of these famous dust bowl regions. The beautiful green of the countryside and its forests become dry and dusty waiting for the rains. Even the palm trees and ground foliage get dusty. In many years the rains are not enough to replenish the water systems. This threatens rice and cotton crops, cattle production, and the lives of the inhabitants.
Like the dust bowl, the Northeast of Brazil, of which Maranhão is a part, is a major source of out-migration. People in the interior migrate to Maranhão, and many others make the longer trip to major cities like São Paulo.
In São Paulo, however, they may live in a district like that served by Cantareira where water is in very short supply. In some sense, moving the population contributes to moving the “water problem” from place to place in Brazil.
Even where there may be water, the distribution systems may be only rudimentary — for example, as in the village market described below.
The first photo from the interior is from the small city of Pindaré where the market is a major outlet for freshly-caught fish. This is a major source of sustenance and economic life in the region.
The market in Pindaré has a common water source — the faucet below provides water for cleaning fish and other market needs.
This faucet seems to be the only source of water for the score of vendors, many of them cleaning and selling fish
In villages and povoadas in the interior, food preparation is a matter of careful planning and complicated hygiene. The scene below brings back childhood memories of my grandparents’ farm where animals were butchered in the open and shared by many families. There was little refrigeration and the best way to preserve meat was to keep it on the hoof.
In the scenes below animals come to the party alive and become dinner in the course of the celebration. This is not “animal sacrifice” in the religious sense, but rather a practical way of feeding a large group. The practice gains a spiritual/community sense in that there are often rituals or moments of praise for the gifts of food that they share.
Food Preparation
This outdoor food preparation is at a religious celebration in Santa Rosa dos Pretos also called Santa Rosa do Barão), a settlement along the federal highway south of São Luís
At the same festival in Santa Rosa dos Pretos — food preparation is continued “outside,” but there is no running water. This woman must prepare food for dozens of people without the benefit of a kitchen with cooling and running water. Some water is provided by a water tank, or reservoir, but there is no stable connection to a municipal water source.
Washing dishes for a large group of celebrants. These women do a remarkable job of maintaining basic hygiene and cleanliness in spite of having to hold their water supply in pans like this.
Some Household Systems
Grocery stores sell 6-liter bottles of household water. These are helpful, but also enter the refuse stream of un-recycled plastic in the waste system. More efficient are the delivery services that will bring you a 20-liter bottle within an hour or so if you live in a major service area.
A commonly-used word is “Diskagua,” which means you simply call and the water is delivered, usually by motorcycle (the disk portion of the word refers to the old-style telephones with a “disk” of numbers on a rotary dialer).
If you live in the interior away from an incorporated city or town, getting the bottles is much more difficult. In some areas delivery is by truck, in others by motorcycle or by bicycle.
We have seen unlucky motorcycle diskagua drivers in heavy traffic with damaged and leaking 20-liter bottles lashed to the back. In larger areas there are trucks carrying the bottles, but the “capillary” distribution to individual households is usually by small vehicle (or even by donkey cart in some places).
Apartments in the city of São Luís use this system since there is no potable water in the municipal pipes. Many have a boutique dispenser that also cools the water.
Household drinking water. This system is repeated endless times in Brazilian homes, even in the city. The water is delivered in 20-liter bottles that are placed in a dispenser. Usually the delivery is by an underpaid and under-appreciated motorcycle delivery person. When we gave a tip to our deliverer, he said “You’re not from around here, are you?”
The older water system below is from the kitchen of a pousada, or bed-and-breakfast where we sometimes stay in Pindaré. We don’t think of this as a 5-star experience, and on our last visit there was no water at all until sundown.
An older household system. Water can be from from a reservoir on the roof that helps balance out times of shortage and rationing. The sink is often dry, and water for cooking is stored in the red vase-like container. In principle the water could also be from sanitary 20-liter plastic bottles, but you never know.
This is such a venerable tradition that the urns are decorative and sometimes elaborated with lace covers. The original source of the water is often unclear. Depending on the householder, the water may be used just for cooking.
Plastic bottles are part of the solution, and part of the problem.
In the household systems above and below you can see that plastic bottles are an important part of the system.
Dependence on water, and dependence on plastic, go together in Brazil, creating a huge problem of recycling and plastic waste. Plastic waste adds to other waste/rubbish removal problems to create standing water where mosquitoes breed in season. This chain of interconnected water-refuse-public health issues begins with problematic hygiene in sewage and water systems, water shortages, generation of plastic alternatives for water, and the absence of recycling in many areas.
Solving any of these problems is like doing paper work with the Brazilian bureaucracy (where “Catch 22” is a basic situation) — you often can’t do just one thing at one office, you need to solve several other problems at different offices (which may be closed or across town). The public health analogue is in the interconnectedness of water, sewage, waste removal, and recycling (all of which are, in turn, related in some way to other infrastructure issues in roads and the underlying water/sewer systems).
It is difficult to encourage recycling of plastic or reduce people’s dependence on plastic when getting water is so critical. You might ask whether Brazilian could not simply get a reusable water bottle (like campers use). Many recycling-conscious people in other countries use camping bottles and refil them from a water tap. This works where the municipal water supply is safe. Many people do indeed reuse plastic water water bottles to reduce cost and waste. When we are traveling in the interior we try to reuse commercial plastic bottles filled from our 20-liter tank at home — that is how we learned that they are thin and fragile, often cracking and losing the water (in your luggage or camera bag).
A modest system with water of unknown origin. The plastic bottles are a plague in Brazil, but virtually the only safe water you can find in some areas. This is in a kitchen. The house has no running water.
The home below is a modest one, but has the rare good fortune to have its own well water. There is otherwise no municipal system of water or sanitation in this neighborhood in the interior of Maranhão (near the city of Rosário).
It is rare that a household has its own well.
This is not a home now (though it once was). It is an informal community space used for celebration. The indoor-outdoor kitchen is to the right. A long hose bring water from the neighborhood water tap in the street in front. It is shared by many residents whose occupants generally have to carry the water to their homes.
A closer view of the kitchen shows the common practice of moving some food preparation outside where waste is better controlled. The thin hose in the photo is about 75 feet long and runs from a shared neighborhood water faucet on the road. The duck will transmigrate to the celebration dinner here, without the benefit of running water.
Utensils and water basin in the semi-outdoor kitchen.
In several of these photos (including the one below) you can see that individual households do try to recycle plastic bottles to cut cost and waste. The bottle are not made to last, however.
Americans will be familiar with similar situations in the United States. Residents in Flint Michigan suffered a serious pollution of their water, apparently due to decisions made at the state level. As their water became unpotable, they were forced to buy bottled water (in plastic bottles, usually). The irony is compounded by the fact that some of the bottled water supply was originally from the Great Lakes — rebottled and sold to them commercially.
An old tank in side the building — with the usual plague of plastic bottles. This, and another cistern in the yard, are filled from the neighborhood water tap. This takes the place of the raised water tank (caixa da agua) that would offer better sanitation and, when elevated, provide gravity-fed water.
The outside cistern of the house. It is filled from the same community faucet but acts as a reservoir for non-potable water.
Calhau Beach Restaurants, São Luís
The beaches in São Luís are lined with restaurant and bars. They vary in quality and hygiene, but some are quite popular regardless of what lies behind. On the beach side of these businesses you can see the motley infrastructure that supports the kitchen and bathrooms. It is hard to tell how much the bathrooms and kitchens are supported by city water or sewer system. On rainy days effluent from the city purges into the bay.
The restaurant may be doing alright, but the runoff is part of the pollution in the the San Marcos Bay.
Water tanks at ground level behind a beach bar/restaurant. One of the tank tops is broken — a potential problem in the mosquito season where uncovered tanks provide a breeding ground.
More water tanks. They are filled from the city water system and provide stability in times of shortage. They are typical of infrastructure arrangements along the beach. The apartment buildings behind have running water and their own reservoirs, but each individual apartment will have a commercial water bottle on a stand to provide potable water (see earlier photos)
The Ubiquitous Water Tank (caixa da agua)
The various household and commercial systems are often depending on water tanks for stabilizing the water supply. They show up in the photos above. Below are more such systems showing how common and essential they are outside areas of reliable municipal systems.
Along the Brazilian federal highway BR135. This shows one plumbing arrangement that leads to the house. Blockhouses like this are often used to protect the water supply, sometimes even with gates ad locks. This is next to a bus stop along the route south from the capital.
A home in the countryside of Rosário. The water tank in the back is typical, as is the television antenna. Brazilian national policy has prioritized electricity and television access over water. Rural areas are more likely to have television then running water. This community is also served by a common well where women without a tank carry water in buckets down a dusty road (as in the first photo above)
This is how plumbing get distributed — a commercial service in the city of Presidente Juscelino is delivering a large tank. The truck seems to have other equipment to mount and create the plumbing for the tank. This service is a huge commercial activity in the interior and in the cities as well.
This system is in a settlement away with no municipal plumbing. The tank is elevated and has two faucets — one that provides water in the basin below and another, with a thin hose, that takes water to the house behind. The house also served as a restaurant and bar, so the water needs are significant. (This system is in a community called Rio Seco “dry river.”)
Behind the house/restaurant/bar water is held in open containers, many of which are made from old tires
A view from behind the house. The water tank is in the background in this photos. Hoses bring water to the washing machine an to various tanks and truck-tire containers. Here again the priority of water often collides with mosquito control. In the rainy season mosquito borne illness are a major health problem in Maranhão. Plastic bottles are both critical and a plague.
An inventive water system with old tires. They catch water in the rainy season and can be filled from the tank using this hose. There is no cover on the open water containers.
Sanitation
A shower at a facility used for religious celebrations. Water is fed by a tank
A typical outdoor bathroom. The pit toilet is surrounded by a woven palm structure. This signifies that it is a more or less “permanent” structure.
This is a more temporary toilet made from plastic sheeting. You find them put up all over rural Brazil in spaces that are being used for celebrations and crowds. They are quickly put up, requiring only a few sticks, a plastic sheet, and a shallow hole in the ground. As the celebration wears on, guest wait for the dark so they can use the more sanitary trees beyond.
