Three weeks ago I was making my final arrangements for my trip to Brazil. It was a busy day but packing went much more smoothly this time around than in past trips. Aimee and I were able to put things together over the course of several days, we got the laundry done early, which made all the difference. I don’t want this to be a travelogue, although there will be some of that. My goal here is to reflect on what makes this trip different from my past trips to Brazil. As I was talking to my friend Flâvio last night over four-cheese lasagna at Famiglia Mancini, I realized that some of the enchantment that Brazil has held in my mind and in my heart in the past has diminished. And I see this change as a positive step.
July 7 – July 12: Belo Horizonte
The flight was normal, if a bit cramped. But that’s to be expected. I didn’t sleep well. But that is also to be expected. I started to get worried at the baggage carousels when I couldn’t see my internal frame backpack, but then I realized they had just put it in a plastic sack. But for a moment the linguistic fight or flight instinct kicked in and I started rehearsing what I would say to baggage claims.
After a 45 minute taxi ride (the airport is 40 km. away from the city), I finally arrived to Paulo and Leticia’s home, which we eventually dubbed “Pousada Colchão no Chão,” or “Mattress on the Floor Bed and Breakfast.” I met them both at a symposium at Brown in 2009. Paulo invited me to come stay with them in Belo Horizonte, or simply BH (pronounced Bay-ah-gá), that summer since I was going to be in São Paulo but that’s where it ended. This year, out of the blue, he invited me to participate on a panel he was organizing for a conference (more on that in a minute) and re-extended that invitation to stay with his family in BH. I accepted. (This paragraph has five parentheticals, including this one.)
I get along really well with Paulo. Simply put, he’s a cool guy and we can talk about literature, music, film, and even religion. Imagine that. An honest, open discussion about the role of religion in the US with another academic. I guess we’re not all bloodthirsty, baby-snatching atheists. (In the spirit of full disclosure, Paulo is not religious although he’s known plenty of Mormons in his life.) He is on a tenure-track path at Yale so there is an incredible pressure for him to produce solid research. He has a book coming out this fall, which I can’t wait to read.
What can I say about Leticia? She is warm, caring, friendly, organized, respectful, and funny. She is a great conversationalist and family is very important to her. She is also a talented artist. Getting to know her and to see her and Paulo interact as a healthy couple, especially after 20 years of marriage, was a highlight for me. It showed me that I can improve my communication skills with Aimee, even though 12 years ain’t too shabby.
They have two darling children but I am going to respect the privacy of their family and not write about them. I will say that it was fun to hear their young daughter speak a mixture of English and Portuguese. I also got to meet their parents, several of their siblings, and cousins, nieces and nephews. Family is very important to Paulo and Leticia, which was evident in the fact that they visited their parents several times a week. I suppose they want to make the most of the two months of each year they spend in Brazil to reconnect with family.
Paulo and Leticia were the perfect hosts. They went out of their way to ensure that my stay in BH was not only pleasant, but academically productive. They suggested numerous museums and exhibits to visit. They certainly seemed excited to show me around town. One of the highlights of the week was our visit to Inhotim. It deserves its own paragraph.
I’ll let you read about Inhotim on your own, but it was heaven on earth. Seriously. If there is a heaven—and I personally believe there is something after mortality, and I espouse a religious system that promotes this idea—then I want heaven to be like Inhotim. Beautiful green space, ponds and lakes, exotic botanical gardens, and world-class art galleries.
The most moving exhibit was Janet Cardiff’s “The Forty Part Motet.” It involved 40 speakers arranged in an oval of 8 sets of 5 speakers, each speaker reproducing the recording of an individual voice. Each group was composed of a bass, baritone, tenor, and two boy sopranos from the Salisbury Cathedral choir. I entered at the beginning; three minutes of talking before the performance. As I walked around the oval, I heard two boys chatting about one of their teachers, a bass going over his part, humming sections, and saying “Right, uh huh,” as well as others mumbling to themselves or chitchatting with their neighbor. And then, a click on the music stand and then some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever experienced. I mostly had the room to myself during the eleven minute performance. As I sat in the middle of the room, I could hear the music sweep from one side to the other, front to back, immense waves of voices surging and receding, lifting and falling. As I walked around the room, I focused on individual voices placing my head between two and three speakers, creating new combinations of harmonies and counter melodies. The experience of total immersion in sound nearly brought me to tears. (The video doesn't do it justice but you get the idea.)
July 7 – July 12: Belo Horizonte
The flight was normal, if a bit cramped. But that’s to be expected. I didn’t sleep well. But that is also to be expected. I started to get worried at the baggage carousels when I couldn’t see my internal frame backpack, but then I realized they had just put it in a plastic sack. But for a moment the linguistic fight or flight instinct kicked in and I started rehearsing what I would say to baggage claims.
After a 45 minute taxi ride (the airport is 40 km. away from the city), I finally arrived to Paulo and Leticia’s home, which we eventually dubbed “Pousada Colchão no Chão,” or “Mattress on the Floor Bed and Breakfast.” I met them both at a symposium at Brown in 2009. Paulo invited me to come stay with them in Belo Horizonte, or simply BH (pronounced Bay-ah-gá), that summer since I was going to be in São Paulo but that’s where it ended. This year, out of the blue, he invited me to participate on a panel he was organizing for a conference (more on that in a minute) and re-extended that invitation to stay with his family in BH. I accepted. (This paragraph has five parentheticals, including this one.)
I get along really well with Paulo. Simply put, he’s a cool guy and we can talk about literature, music, film, and even religion. Imagine that. An honest, open discussion about the role of religion in the US with another academic. I guess we’re not all bloodthirsty, baby-snatching atheists. (In the spirit of full disclosure, Paulo is not religious although he’s known plenty of Mormons in his life.) He is on a tenure-track path at Yale so there is an incredible pressure for him to produce solid research. He has a book coming out this fall, which I can’t wait to read.
What can I say about Leticia? She is warm, caring, friendly, organized, respectful, and funny. She is a great conversationalist and family is very important to her. She is also a talented artist. Getting to know her and to see her and Paulo interact as a healthy couple, especially after 20 years of marriage, was a highlight for me. It showed me that I can improve my communication skills with Aimee, even though 12 years ain’t too shabby.
They have two darling children but I am going to respect the privacy of their family and not write about them. I will say that it was fun to hear their young daughter speak a mixture of English and Portuguese. I also got to meet their parents, several of their siblings, and cousins, nieces and nephews. Family is very important to Paulo and Leticia, which was evident in the fact that they visited their parents several times a week. I suppose they want to make the most of the two months of each year they spend in Brazil to reconnect with family.
Paulo and Leticia were the perfect hosts. They went out of their way to ensure that my stay in BH was not only pleasant, but academically productive. They suggested numerous museums and exhibits to visit. They certainly seemed excited to show me around town. One of the highlights of the week was our visit to Inhotim. It deserves its own paragraph.
I’ll let you read about Inhotim on your own, but it was heaven on earth. Seriously. If there is a heaven—and I personally believe there is something after mortality, and I espouse a religious system that promotes this idea—then I want heaven to be like Inhotim. Beautiful green space, ponds and lakes, exotic botanical gardens, and world-class art galleries.
The most moving exhibit was Janet Cardiff’s “The Forty Part Motet.” It involved 40 speakers arranged in an oval of 8 sets of 5 speakers, each speaker reproducing the recording of an individual voice. Each group was composed of a bass, baritone, tenor, and two boy sopranos from the Salisbury Cathedral choir. I entered at the beginning; three minutes of talking before the performance. As I walked around the oval, I heard two boys chatting about one of their teachers, a bass going over his part, humming sections, and saying “Right, uh huh,” as well as others mumbling to themselves or chitchatting with their neighbor. And then, a click on the music stand and then some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever experienced. I mostly had the room to myself during the eleven minute performance. As I sat in the middle of the room, I could hear the music sweep from one side to the other, front to back, immense waves of voices surging and receding, lifting and falling. As I walked around the room, I focused on individual voices placing my head between two and three speakers, creating new combinations of harmonies and counter melodies. The experience of total immersion in sound nearly brought me to tears. (The video doesn't do it justice but you get the idea.)
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