São Paulo part 1

Mayara Cavallini invites us into her land of music, football, and dance — Brazil.

When you're born in Brazil, something about you is shaped differently. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure that if you're born in any part of the world, you're also different. What I mean is that when you're born in Brazil, you are not equal to any of the people that you consider your own. But at the same time, there is something about Brazilians that makes us all the same — even when we couldn't be more diverse.

There is something about Brazil that resides inside our chests, nestled warmly next to our hearts. It manifests in the way we laugh and the effortless way we touch people's arms while speaking. It's present in the chilled beers we enjoy and our innate ability to embrace and love those we have just met. Being Brazilian is not solely defined by being born in a not-so-affluent South American country, nor is it solely about our stunning women and captivating samba — although it's true that our women are indeed beautiful, and samba is undeniably one of the greatest treasures in the world. Being Brazilian is about that enduring warmth within our hearts, a feeling that never dissipates. And, I can confidently affirm, it is something that is uniquely ours.

The experience of living in Brazil is incredibly challenging to summarize. In this country, we have places that witness snowfall while others resemble sandy desert landscapes. At the same time, we are home to the largest rainforest on Earth. Here, indigenous people live near rivers and hunt for food, while we also boast some of the largest modern cities on the planet. Brazil has the highest number of Black people outside of the African continent and is also home to the world's largest Japanese community. Every single one of these individuals that is born here is Brazilian, no matter how different they may be.

To make it make sense, you'll have to understand that our history is long – even if we are not an old country. We've been through a lot. Colonized by the Europeans in the 16th century when they discovered the wealth that this land provides: everything you plant here grows, and there were gold mines and exotic trees. So they came from everywhere — Portugal, Spain, Holland — to take a little bite. They enslaved the indigenous people, brought people from Africa as slaves, and attempted to suffocate indigenous culture, calling it salvation and civilization. But the people here survived, and so did their culture. 

Brazilian blood, our blood, is not a singular entity. We don't have the same faces, we don't have the same body types, yet we are one people.  This unity stems from the fact that all those who came before us were embraced by this land and called it home. They made a home of the blue skies and the grays, the beautiful beaches of Rio de Janeiro or the blinding lights of São Paulo's nights. In one way or another, they survived, and with them, we inherited the richness they brought — their religion, their skin color, their architecture — and we made Brazil. That is Brazil, in essence, and that is where the warm feeling comes from: surviving through everything and being kind while doing it. Regardless of the circumstances, staying true to who we really are and continuing to love unabashedly as we do.

That is my favorite part about Brazilian culture: the kindness. It’s there  in the movie "Central do Brasil," directed by Walter Salles in 1998, which almost earned Fernanda Montenegro an Oscar. The movie tells the story of a retired schoolteacher who works as a letter writer in a Central Station in Rio de Janeiro. It portrays her journey with Josué, a little boy who was abandoned by his mother at the same station. Both of them embark on a road trip, searching for the boy's father, and their relationship grows stronger along the way.

They are different from each other: she is a middle-class woman, and he is a poor, abandoned child. However, as they travel around the country, they are able to connect not only with each other but also with the people they encounter during their journey. This movie is truly a beautiful depiction of Brazil, showcasing its remarkable aspects alongside its flaws.

Another movie that portrays Brazil in a raw manner is "Cidade de Deus," a film directed by Fernando Meirelles in 2002. However, this movie differs in many aspects from "Central do Brasil" as it portrays the reality of favelas. Favelas are Brazilian communities primarily characterized by impoverished living conditions and informal settlements, yet they are home to a significant portion of the Brazilian population. "Cidade de Deus" takes place specifically in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro, depicting the violence that permeates these areas while also providing an intimate glimpse into the lives of its inhabitants—their dreams, thoughts, and struggles. The favelas are a reflection of the events of the past: with slavery and colonization, poor people were forced to build their houses wherever they could and in whichever way they could. One on top of the other, on hills and steep terrain, they built houses upon houses that, over time, became enormous communities. The violence portrayed in the movie "Cidade de Deus" stemmed from the fact that those people had no help from anyone but themselves. The government abandoned the poor, once again. But, once again, they survived.

Not only survived, but created their own culture. Inside of a favela is where you’ll probably find something really close to what it feels to be born Brazilian: the simple things. People there are happy, even through everything. They make you laugh, they are friends with each other — once again, continuing to love unabashedly. 

The true and beautiful Brazilian culture was born from these people and the mix of cultures that we are made of. Our samba, one of our greatest joys, is a blend of African rhythms and European melodies, serving as a true representation of Brazil. It holds significance not just for its fame but also for its history and symbolism.

Samba is characterized by its joyful and celebratory nature, with lyrics that can encompass themes of love, life, or virtually anything else. It can be heard in bars, restaurants, in the favelas, and even at affluent gatherings. Its origins trace back to the early 20th Century in Rio de Janeiro, following the abolition of slavery, when African-Brazilian communities shared their musical influences with other social circles. Samba gained popularity through local parties and samba circles. By the end of the 1930s, it had already become an integral part of Brazil's cultural identity.

What better way to represent Brazil than through these happy and joyful songs that emerged from our diverse culture? Samba serves as a unifying force, bringing together different types of Brazilians and exemplifying the essence of our nation.

Now that you have a glimpse of Brazil's diversity, you can see why my experience as a born Brazilian may not reflect exactly how it feels for every single one of us. The main reason is that I was born and raised in São Paulo, the biggest city in the country. It's a different experience from someone born by the sunny beaches of the Northeast, or the chilly South, or the indigenous tribes of the Amazonia. But, as I mentioned before, there's something that unites us all, as if we were part of one big heart.

Being born in São Paulo is a bit of a weird experience from the inside. It's not exactly the most loved city in the country. Let's be real: they hate us 'cause they ain't us. But hey, that's just us being a bunch of snobs, and maybe that's why nobody really likes us.

But all jokes aside, when most people think about my country, they don't usually picture massive glass buildings, huge company offices, loads of bars, and insane traffic. But that's the essence of my city. The fancy, pricey neighborhoods are the ones near the main avenues like Faria Lima and Avenida Paulista. And let's not forget about those rich folks' playgrounds, which happen to be conveniently close to those flashy office buildings. We're talking about places like Higienópolis, Jardins, and a few others that honestly make me, as a proud Paulistano, think that maybe we can be a tad snobbish.

Here, we also have the historical downtown, with theaters and churches built by the founders of the city. It's a beautiful sight: antique buildings, full of history to tell. Personally, I'm a big fan of history and old things. It may sound silly, and I don't know if you can relate, but since I was a child, I've always enjoyed visiting museums and could spend hours staring at a simple sock if you told me it was a hundred years old and belonged to some Brazilian princess. 

And that's why the historical downtown is so fascinating to me. Standing where the people whose choices shaped this country stood years ago feels different. Observing the intricate architecture from the early 1900s, visiting the palace where the emperor of Brazil used to reside, or reading the love letters he wrote to his mistress, which are now displayed in her house-turned-museum. All of this personally piques my curiosity.

However, it's disheartening to face the reality. São Paulo's historical downtown is one of the most dangerous places in town. There's a significant presence of homeless people, drug users, and thieves. You can't go without carefully hiding your wallet first, and you definitely can't walk around absorbed in your phone. This is probably what characterizes us as a big city, not just the 12.33 million people who live here. It's the fact that you're almost guaranteed to be robbed if you're careless, regardless of the time of day, in São Paulo's historical downtown.

Look out for part 2 on November 7th, 2023