Kidding Around

By Alli Sinclair

When I lived in Cuzco, I taught English to street kids and quite often they asked me to join in their games. To be honest, I sucked at most of them, but the gorgeous laughter coming from kids who had such tough lives always warmed my heart. After that experience, whenever I had the opportunity to join in a game with kids, I jumped at the chance. Here’s a list of games I’ve played throughout South America:

Colombia – La Cachanga (Cotton Sandal)

Players form a close circle and kneel on one knee, the other knee is at right angles. While the person who guesses is on the outside of the circle, the players quickly pass the cotton sandal under their knee in a clockwise direction. The player on the outside tries to guess who has the shoe. While the game is going on, participants chant “Que corra la cachanga” (the sandal that runs). Game is over when the person on the outside guesses who has the sandal. It sounds simple, but when you get a bunch of kids well-practiced at this game, the sandal can literally, fly between the players.

Brazil - Luta de Galo (Fight of the Roosters)

This game requires a minimum of two. Players tuck a handkerchief in their belt and place their right arm across their chest while hopping around on their right foot. The left arm is used to grab the opponent’s handkerchief. If a player’s left foot touches the ground or the right arm moves away from the chest, the player is disqualified.

Brazil – Vivo ou morto (Dead or Alive)

A leader is chosen amongst the children and they stand in front of him or her, awaiting his instructions. When he yells “vivo!” the children stay standing, when he yells “morto!” they crouch down. If one of the participants gets it wrong, they’re out of the game. The fun part of this game is when the leader shouts the instructions really quickly and the kids get super confused. The last person to have followed all the instructions correctly gets to be leader in the next round.

Chile – Quien es? (Who is it?)

If the idea of 20 or more teenagers congregating in one noisy place frightens you, don’t play this game! If you do decide to brave the gaggle of hormonal teenagers, it’s well and truly worth the effort.

One player is chosen as the leader and is the head of the line. The remaining players stand in an orderly line. The leader asks the question, “Have you seen my friend?” and the players answer with, “No, Sir/Madam.” The leader than asks, “Do you know who my friend is?”, the group answers with, “Yes, Sir/Madam.”

The leader takes nine steps forward and doesn’t look back at the other players. The other players quietly change positions and the (new) first person remains quiet while the other players shout out, “Who is it?” The leader asks three questions before they guess. Typical questions are, “Boy or girl?”, “Dark hair or fair?”, etc. The leader then guesses who’s standing behind him or her. If the leader wins they can stay in that role or if they lose, someone else is nominated for this position.

Los encantandos (The Enchanted)

This game is similar to “freeze” or “tag”. One person is chosen as the enchanted one and if they touch a person, that person has to stay frozen until one of the unfrozen players touches them. There is usually a safe place where the enchanted person can’t enter, and if a player makes it to the safe spot, they can form a chain with other players to release frozen people.

And just for fun, I’m adding my all-time favorite game for kids—one that is played in many countries around the world. I only discovered this after I became a mum and this game is a firm favorite in our house (especially when little friends are over):

Dead Fish

A fisherman is chosen from the group of kids and the players lie on the ground, not moving. The fisherman moves between the fish and if he/she spies a moving fish, that fish is moved over to his “basket”. The game keeps going until there is only one fish left. Needless to say, the idea of a group of kids lying on the ground and being still and quiet is a caregiver’s dream!

What I’ve discovered since playing games with kids is it doesn’t matter where you come from or language you speak, as long as you join in and embrace the spirit of the game, you’ll always be welcome. Games breakdown barriers, create friendships, and encourage the sharing of moments that can stay in our memories forever.

How about you? Have you ever joined in a kid’s game on your travels and ended up with an experience you’ll never forget?

The Power Of Many

When I started travelling, my eyes opened to all the wonderful possibilities for healing there are in the world. I witnessed eastern and western medicines working alone and together and saw people rely entirely on faith with remarkable results. But it wasn’t until a few years ago, when my three-week-old daughter lay in an ICU in a Canadian hospital, that I experienced the meeting of two worlds – the medical and the spiritual – and how those two combined, can make a difference.

My daughter contracted a type of meningitis that is very rare. The medical profession couldn’t work out how she got it, and they didn’t hold out a lot of hope for her to survive, let alone function like a “normal” child. If she made it through the first 72 hours, they expected her to have numerous disabilities. Not one to give up easily, I asked friends and family around the world to help us out. I didn’t care what people believed in, whether they prayed, read tarot, or spoke to aliens, I needed their spiritual support in any way they saw fit. 

A friend of a friend, Alys, happened to be in New Zealand at the time, attending a gathering held by a Brazilian man I’d heard about over the years. João de Deus (John of God) is known for helping the infirm heal and people travel from every corner of the globe to see him. He rarely travels outside of Brazil, so it was pure luck (or was it?) that Aly was with him at the time of my daughter’s illness.

Here’s Alys’s experience in her own words:

When I was in Brazil in 2005, I felt drawn to spending some time at a particular meditation centre in the middle of Brazilian plateau. This place had an outward focus of spiritual healing through connecting with the divine entities of the Casa De Dom Inacio. It's a fairly typical representation of spirituality in Brazil, albeit on the miraculous side of the scale. The energy is powerful and subtle, it is the embodiment of love and chaos as old patterns are torn off. It's a washing machine for karma.

I stayed in touch with the energy of the Casa after I left after staying there for six weeks. I later participated in the John of God event in Wellington when João de Deus came to New Zealand in 2006. I'd been carrying a crystal round with me from the casa in 2005 and when a special friend of mine that I'd met in Abadiania (the Casa in Brazil) told me about a friend of his that had a sick baby in hospital, I dedicated the crystal to this baby and took it with me to the three days of meditation. 

The whole event was geared towards healing our spiritual karma and finding the peace within our process. With the dedication in place, I wrote a poem after the event for baby Rebecca and sent the crystal off to her parents in Canada so they could place it by her side while in the hospital. I had never met the parents, but it felt an honour to pass the crystal on to such a loved child.

John of God, born as João Teixeira de Faria, discovered his healing abilities at the age of 16. For more than three decades, he’s worked out of the Casa de Dom Inacio, a healing centre near Abadiania, south of Brasilia, in Brazil. People with all manner of illness travel great distances to visit him – people with cancer, auto immune disorders, arthritis, injuries from sports and accidents, emotional disorders, including depression, schizophrenia, and addictions... the list goes on. He also works with people who have problems with their family and loved ones, and many look to him for guidance in repairing their fractured relationships.

Each year, tens of thousands of people visit this Casa de Dom Inacio, with 500-600 people lining up every day to share even a moment with him. He doesn’t profess to be tied to any one religion, in fact, he says he incorporates all religions, even though Brazil is a predominantly Catholic country. John of God says anyone who believes in any higher power is welcome. Through the casa there are symbols and pictures from many religions, including Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Buddhism. 

John of God doesn’t have any formal medical training, yet he is known for helping many desperately ill people heal. In numerous interviews I’ve read, John of God tells people he’s a simple farmer who wants to help people. He says he can’t look at blood and won’t even get a flu shot, he hates needles that much. But when he’s in healing mode, the sight of blood doesn’t seem to register. 

Unlike other mediums, John of God doesn’t claim to cure everyone. He never asks people to stop taking their medication or to stop treatments like chemotherapy. He also doesn’t ask people who are gravely ill to make the trip to Brazil, he does, however, offer to heal by proxy. Thousands of people from all walks of life swear healing by proxy has worked for them as a result of John of God and his work.

At the casa, John of God has hundreds of volunteers help organise the visitors and nurse the sick, as well as pray for eight hours or more every day in special healing rooms. With that many people devoting themselves to others and sending nothing but love and prayers to the heavens, it’s a little hard not to be affected in some small way.

What I’ve learnt over the years is religion can take many forms – some official, some not. Sometimes it’s a god, sometimes many gods, sometimes it’s a feeling a person has, or a way of life they lead. Western and eastern medicines can both heal, and sometimes the combination of both disciplines and people’s positive energy coming together can make great things happen. 

When my daughter was desperately ill and needed all the help she could get in the medical and spiritual sense, she received it in many ways. The wonderful doctors and nurses worked hard to bring her back to health, and she had the love and prayers and positive energy of hundreds of people, many complete strangers, who believed that faith and love can bring about healing. Personally, I think the world needs both western and eastern medicine, and the positive energy of many to help heal.

My daughter is now a bright, healthy five-year-old without one single disability the doctors thought she might develop as a result of her illness. When I look at the beautiful white crystal capturing the early morning sunlight on my daughter’s window sill and see the twinkle in her brown eyes, I know that it doesn’t matter what people believe, as long as they believe in something, it can change people’s lives.  

Off The Beaten Track: The End of the Brazilian Diaspora

Our guest blogger this week is one of our favorite authors, Leighton Gage, who lives in, and writes about, Brazil. The New York Times aptly calls his crime novels “top-notch,” “entirely absorbing,” and “irresistible." His latest, A Vine in the Blood, will be launched in the United States in December.

For about 400 years, Brazil wasn’t a country you came from; it was a country you went to.

People came from everywhere.

And if they didn’t find wealth, they found an inexplicable something, an emotional link that bound them to the land.

Few who went could ever bring themselves to leave.

But then, in the 1970s, Brazil’s economy tanked.

It wasn’t quite as bad as what happened in the Weimar Republic.

Where the currency became entirely valueless.

Or as bad as what happened in the United States during the Great Depression.

Where people lined up for free bread.

Few starved.

But, at a given point, inflation surpassed 80% a month.

Think about that. Eighty percent a month.

Businesses failed. So did banks. Unemployment soared. Millions were left without a livelihood.
And many sought sustenance outside the country.
Thus began the Great Brazilian Diaspora.

For the first time in her history, Brazil began losing her citizens.

The Italian government gives a passport to anyone who can prove they had at least one Italian grandparent. Brazil accepts dual nationality, so Brazilians besieged Italian consulates, pocketed their new EEC documents, and went off to invade Europe.

Those who had Japanese parents, or grandparents, flocked to Japan.

More than a million entered the United States, most of them illegally.

But all of them, without exception, kept at least one eye focused on what was going on in Brazil.

Full assimilation into their new societies was the farthest thing from their minds.

And during all the years, all of their exiles, their sights remained set on “going home.”

To that end, they made sure their kids retained a fluency in Portuguese.

They called friends and family “at home” at least once a week.

They installed satellite receivers, so they could watch Brazilian networks on television.

When Brazil played their host country in sports, they rooted for the Brazilian teams.

When they went on holiday, they went to Brazil.

And they worked, and waited, for the wheel to come full circle.

Now it has.

In 2010, Brazil’s economic growth surpassed that of South Korea, Japan, Germany, and the United States.

The country enjoyed the fourth-highest GDP expansion in the world after China and India. Oil has been discovered off the coast, and it now appears that Brazil will be independent in terms of petroleum. Exports are booming. Agricultural production is at an all-time high. The aircraft industry, the automobile industry, the aerospace industry, and the computer industry are all booking record profits. Inflation is low, the currency strong. Foreign investment is pouring in. The banks are solid. Employment too is at an all-time high.

One-way bookings from the United States have doubled since last year.

And a number of international moving companies have been established to handle the massive amount of business.

For Brazilians, the diaspora is over.

And now, at last, they’re going home.

Once in a Lifetime

A still from the new footage of an uncontacted Amazon tribe in Brazil.
© BBC/FUNAI/Survival VIA www.survivalinternational.org

When I wander through the ruins of ancient civilizations, I try to imagine what life was like in those times. Did people hold their babies in their arms and guard them with their lives, just like we do? Did they wonder why relationships had to be so complicated? Did they spend their childhood annoying their siblings? My musings may appear trivial, but I truly believe it doesn’t matter how different our cultures are, there are some basic human characteristics that are a part of our DNA, whether we like it or not.

As with other parts of the world, Latin America has its fair share of extinct cultures--the Mayans, Aztecs, and Incas to name but a few. Learning about the ruins and how these once powerful civilizations fell has been an endless source of fascination for me. So much so, my last book, Vestige, explored a way the Incas could have perished. But what about the indigenous groups that live in Latin America right now?

Globalisation has been wonderful in a lot of ways. I love that I can chat via computer to a friend on the other side of the world. Using a phone, emailing, and faxing are all part of modern day society and have become ingrained in our lives. I do wonder, though, at what point this western globalization will go too far. Not everyone wants to be in contact via email, cell phone, and Facebook. And not everyone wants to dress like westerners or live our kind of lifestyle. 

In the 1500s, when the Europeans first arrived in South America, many indigenous populations vanished because of diseases such as smallpox, measles, and the flu. It’s not much different today. Some communities have lived in isolation for thousands of years and still use their centuries old techniques for hunting, eating, birthing, and medicine. They have no knowledge of the western world and no immunity to our diseases. It doesn’t take a scientist to work out what would happen if these people came into contact with outsiders. 

As an armchair anthropologist, I love to learn about both ancient and modern communities. I like to find out about a community’s way of life, religious ceremonies, and their relationships with each other and the world they live in. We can learn a lot from other cultures. But, as with most things, there are lines that shouldn’t be crossed.

The inquisitive side of me wants to know more about the tribes that live in isolation today. However, this information comes at a cost. I could never justify anyone suffering at the hands of someone else in a quest for knowledge, or even worse, for natural resources.

Photo via www.survivalinternational.org

In 1836, Charles Goodyear invented rubber, and by the late 19^th and 20^th centuries, the Amazon was targeted as the perfect place to harvest sap from the rubber tree. When mahogany became the wood du jour, loggers forced their way into the forests. Unfortunately, these are the places where many indigenous tribes live, and as a result, they have come face to face with a modern world. The people either fled deeper into the jungle, or became displaced and westernized. 

Thankfully, groups such as the Peruvian Native Federation of the Madre de Rios River and Tributaries (FENAMAD), and the Racimos de Ungurahui Project, have managed to secure territorial reserves in south-eastern Peru. The reserve protects three groups of indigenous people who now live in voluntary isolation and this ensures their rights are finally respected. 

Of course, these types of decisions can cause great controversy, as seen only a few weeks ago. Fisticuffs erupted in Peru after officials from the outgoing administration let slip there were plans to modify—and perhaps revoke—the protected status for reserves set aside for indigenous groups and the surrounding rainforests. With over 15 nomadic or semi-nomadic groups inhabiting eastern Peru, this would have a detrimental effect on the inhabitants if companies moved in to take the natural resources. Groups such as http://www.survivalinternational.org will ensure the new Peruvian government, which only came into power a few days ago, is aware of the impact on the indigenous people should the restrictions be lifted. 

Photo via www.survivalinternational.org

Growing up in Australia, I am well and truly aware of the impact one society can have on another, especially if the contact is forced. The city where I grew up, Geelong, has a long association with the Wathaurong tribe, and I am afraid to say the way the English settlers treated the Aborigines was atrocious. It doesn’t sit well to know there are groups of people in the world today who could be subjected to unwanted contact and their way of life changed forever. The last thing I want to do is travel to the Amazon in ten years time, look at the ruins of a village, and hear stories about the indigenous people that became extinct in my lifetime.

Click here for a short video that has some amazing footage of a tribe in the Amazon. There are also some very interesting points made by the man in charge of monitoring uncontacted tribes in Brazil.

Definitely Not A Fruit Loop

From the movie "The Gang's All Here"

When I hear the name Carmen Miranda, I picture a vivacious lass sashaying across the floor. She’s wearing a hat made of fruit and is singing with a Latin accent, wooing onlookers with a cheeky smile. Sure, it’s the image Carmen portrayed in Hollywood movies, but not one her fellow countrymen in Brazil were too happy about.

Born in 1909 to Portuguese parents, Maria do Carmo Miranda da Cunha immigrated to Brazil with her father when she was ten months old. Her father worked in the produce business, and her mother joined the family in Brazil the following year. Maria do Carmo earned the nickname of Carmen from her father, due to his love for the opera Carmen.

When Carmen was a teenager, her sister contracted tuberculosis, so Carmen worked in a hat shop to pay for her sister’s medical bills. Carmen dreamed of entering show business but her father disapproved and when she sung at festivals and parties, her father would beat her mother for allowing his daughter to perform. In 1929, Carmen made her first recording and became the first singer in Brazil to sign a contract for regular work on Brazilian radio. She acted in a few Brazilian movies then traveled to New York to perform on Broadway.

Hollywood found this spirited actress irresistible, starring her in an English speaking movie, Down Argentine Way. Not only did this movie introduce Carmen Miranda to an American audience, but it was the movie that made Betty Grable a household name. Carmen soon performed at the White House and sang for Franklin D. Roosevelt. And as a result, she became involved in the Good Neighbor Policy—a program designed to strengthen the ties between the U.S.A., Latin America, and Europe.

By 1946, Carmen Miranda was Hollywood’s highest-paid entertainer. Her image in Hollywood enraged many in Latin America though. People felt she blurred the differences between the people of Brazil, Portugal, Argentina, and Mexico, and that she mish-mashed samba, tango, and habanera music. With her wacky head dresses laden with fruit, Carmen earned the name as “the lady in the tutti-frutti hat.”

Upset that the Brazilians criticized her for selling out to the Americans, Carmen sang Disseram que Voltei Americanizada (They Say I’ve Become Americanized). She also released the song, Bananas is My Business, based on a line from one of her movies. The criticism from her countrymen upset her greatly though, and it took 14 years before she returned for a visit. 

From the movie "The Gang's All Here"

Unfortunately, by then, Carmen had turned to drugs, alcohol and heavy smoking as a way of coping with an abusive marriage she had endured for many years. In 1955, Carmen filmed a segment on The Jimmy Durante Show. After her dance number had finished, she collapsed and Durante ran to her side. She laughed it off, commented about being out of breath, but continued on with the show, only to suffer a heart attack later that evening in her Beverly Hills home. Carmen passed away that night.

The young lady with a penchant for wearing fruit hats is still remembered today. She has a special place on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and many documentaries and books have been devoted to Carmen Miranda’s life. In Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and Marco de Canavese, Portugal, there are museums dedicated to this songstress.

Her fame spans decades. In 1982, a hot air balloon named “Chic-I-Boom,” flew at the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta and the bananas alone were 50 feet long. Velvet Underground released a song called, The Soul of Carmen Miranda and in Sydney, Australia, there’s a suburb called Miranda with a night club called Carmen’s. In 1998, Carmen Miranda Square opened in Hollywood and is only one of a dozen city squares in Los Angles dedicated to performers. The square is located on the intersection of Orange Drive and Hollywood Boulevard, near the spot where Carmen entertained a group of servicemen from the USO.

I’m still undecided about whether Carmen Miranda sold out. She certainly made people aware of Brazil and the rest of Latin America but many felt her image did a disservice to her people. She was in the entertainment business, and she performed that aspect of her job brilliantly. People loved her Latin flair and sense of humor, and even today, she is still widely remembered. So as a business woman, she achieved her goal but as an ambassador for Brazil, she upset a lot of people.

What do you think? Do you have examples of people who have portrayed their countrymen in a way that isn’t necessarily a true reflection of their culture?

And of course, this post wouldn’t be complete without some videos. I bet you can’t watch them without smiling. Close the door and sing until you’re hoarse!

Feliz Navidad

I spent my first Christmas away from Australia in South America. I had figured it wouldn’t be dissimilar from the Land of the Long Weekend. After all, South America was in the same hemisphere, and experiencing 40 degrees C on Christmas Day wasn’t unheard of at home either. Catholicism was common in Australia, as in South America, so really, how different could things be? You’ve got it—our traditions were poles apart. I was living in Peru at the time and had the pleasure of celebrating with friends from various parts of the globe, including many South American countries. We decided to group together our Christmas traditions and make it one big cultural mash-up. And here’s what I learnt:

Colombia: The nativity scene is made of clay figures, known as pesebres. The Mary and Joseph figurines wear traditional Colombian attire, such as a poncho, fedora hat and shawl. El Dia de las Velitas (Day of the Candles) is held on the seventh of December and that’s when Advent prayers start. On 16^th December is the start of La Novena de Aguinaldos, a prayer that is said over nine successive days up until Christmas Eve. These prayers tell what happened during the nine month pregnancy of Mary and Joseph. This Colombian tradition dates back to the 1700’s and little has changed since the first prayer was said.

Peru: Nativity scenes are called retablos. Historically, priests carried small altars from house to house with a nativity scene similar to the one in Colombia. Nowadays priests use portable boxes instead (I guess their muscles got tired). Dances and plays are put on throughout the festive season and traditional Peruvian food is served during these celebrations. As an act of good will, churches and generous people make choclotadas (cups of hot chocolate) and give gifts to those to the less fortunate.

Venezuela: On December 16, families display their pesebres. (They’re called the same in Colombia.) At dawn, church bells chime and firecrackers explode to wake up all the worshippers on Christmas Eve. On the 5^th of January, children leave out hay and water for the camels of the Magi (the wise men) and in the morning they find their offerings are replaced by gifts. If the children wake up and have a black smudge on their cheek, they believe that Balthazar, King of the Ethiopians, kissed them while they were asleep.

Ecuador: Children write letters to baby Jesus and place their shoes on their windowsill on Christmas Eve. The next morning, the children usually awake to find noise-making toys in their footwear. Firecrackers, brass bands, and dancing in the streets are popular and most families attend Midnight Mass.

Brazil: Christmas is influenced by the Jesuit monks. But, over the years, Brazil has adapted many North American traditions, which means the old traditions are falling by the wayside.

In South America, the commercialism of Christmas is no way near the frantic extent it is in other parts of the world, and to be honest, it was a welcome relief. The focus was on family, friends and celebrating beliefs, which at times, are a combination of modern-day religion and the traditions of their ancestors. Santa and presents is not the be all and end all. For me, I found the true spirit of Christmas in South America.

The mother of my “adopted” family in Peru did a great deal of volunteer work for the children’s hospital and a psychiatric home for children in Lima. On Christmas morning, she invited me to join her in her own Christmas Day tradition—handing out presents to children at the hospital and psychiatric home who either had no family or were so poor their family couldn’t afford gifts. Armed with sweets and books we set off. I had no idea this particular morning would be the one that changed my whole view of Christmas. Previously I had thought it was one commercial rip-off. But in that moment, when I was surrounded by children who just wanted a hug and were happy to see someone show them some love, I finally got what it was all about.

How about you? Through learning about another culture have you changed the way you view a familiar tradition?

Cutting Ties

Growing up in Australia, I’d been to many weddings, mostly the traditional white-poufy dress and penguin suit affairs. I thought I’d seen it all, but nothing prepared me for a wedding Brazilian style.

I’d been backpacking through Brazil and had made some friends with the locals in the coastal city of Rio de Janeiro. A melting pot of cultures, Rio had enthralled me from the moment I set foot on the sandy beaches. Anywhere that you can order Brazil’s national cocktail, caipirinha, while sunning yourself on a city beach has to be appealing, right? And as is the South American tradition, new friends are always invited to family milestones and this one happened to be a wedding.

Although the bride and groom lived in a bustling, modern city, they hailed from the north-eastern coast where a lot of Brazilian traditions are still observed. Bumba-Meu-Boi is when the groom has to tame an unbridled donkey to prove his worth as a responsible husband. And if he’s successful, he can marry the daughter of the man who owned the donkey. There were no donkeys at this wedding, but I loved the image all the same.

We made it to the church just in time to see the priest lead the procession, with the groom and his mother following. In place of a flower, his buttonhole had a tiny Brazilian flag pinned to his lapel. Following the groom were the Padrinhos, couples who are relatives and close friends of the groom and bride. It doesn’t matter if they are married, boyfriend and girlfriend, brother and sister or friends, the important thing is these Padrinhos serve as wedding attendants.

The bride took her time. So we waited. And waited. And waited. I knew she had to be at least ten minutes late due to tradition, but I was beginning to wonder if she was stretching it out, thinking the longer she made the groom wait the better luck they would have in their marriage. It turns out the maximum time a bride can be late is 30 minutes and I am sure the bride rocked up with one minute to spare.

90% of the population of Brazil is Catholic, so there were no surprises this was a Catholic ceremony done with a Brazilian flavor. The rings were tentatively exchanged, both parties making sure their nervous fingers didn’t fumble the shiny bands of gold and drop them. For if they had, it would be have been a bad omen and the longevity of their marriage would be at risk. When the traditional prayer in Portuguese was read, there were many teary eyes, including mine. I had a minimal understanding of the words, but it was the heartfelt way it was said that made me well up. The church was filled with so much love and adoration it was about to burst.

When the ceremony finished, everyone broke into song. I couldn’t figure out the words but the tune was familiar. It took a while to sink in, but when it did, I realized it was the Brazilian national anthem. All those hours spent watching Brazil playing in the World Cup soccer had finally paid off.

The reception was where the real party began. And boy, do Brazilians know how to have a good time. A river of caipirinha flowed, the bride and groom danced the pagode, a samba originating from Salvador and Bahia. It’s commonly used in celebrations and with the way things were turning out, it was going to be one big party.

It worried me a tad when one of the groomsmen brought out a pair of scissors and started wielding them like a machete. He strode over to the groom, grabbed his tie, pulled him forward, then snip-snipped just below the knot. The groomsman chopped the tie into tiny pieces and started selling off the remnants to the guests to help alleviate some of the wedding and honeymoon costs. With the rate of reales flying through the air, there was a good chance they could afford two honeymoons.

Instead of table numbers, seating arrangements were identified by Brazilian cities. But no one sat for long. People ate finger food on the go, dancing from one group of friends to the other, shouting greetings, hugging, and laughing. This went on for hours and it wasn’t until the food ran out, a tradition that signifies the end of the wedding, that the guests got ready to leave. Everyone was handed casadinhos, Brazilian marriage cookies made of two short-bread like biscuits and joined with jam or fudge.

Brazil has a wonderful blend of African, Portuguese and Indigenous cultures. Celebrations are colorful, loud, happy, and full of love. The atmosphere is contagious and it’s easy to get caught up in the pure joy of celebrating the milestone of someone’s life with old friends and new. And by the end of that night, I’d made a bunch of new friends that I felt like I’d known forever.

Have you ever experienced a celebration from another culture? How did you feel and what did you learn?