In the United States:
To get a Brazilian visa for a year of research, one must bring to the Brazilian consulate in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, or Miami:
two copies of the filled-out application; a valid passport; two passport-size photographs; police clearance stating you have no criminal record in the past 12 months; proof of a grant; a letter of invitation from a Brazilian institute signed by someone whose signature has then by recognized by a notary public in Brazil; a copy of the Brazilian governmental decree that discusses research within Brazil; $160 in money order form only
To get a passport, one must bring to the Regional Passport Agency in San Francisco (if one is traveling within 2 weeks; otherwise apply through the mail and wait 6 weeks or more):
a filled-out application; 2 passport-size photos, a birth certificate—the long form, not the short form—and two other forms of identification. An abbreviated copy made by the Brazilian government of a previous US passport is not an acceptable form of identification.
To get a birth certificate in long form, one must drive to the Santa Clara clerk’s office and exchange the short form that one has used one’s entire life for the long form.
In Brazil:
To legally remain in Brazil past 30 days on a research visa, one must register with the Federal Police.
To register with the Brazilian Federal Police, one must bring:
a filled-out application; the passport; the original visa application; the small form stamped upon entry into Brazil; a copy of the small form stamped upon entry into Brazil; two 3 x 4 photographs; and a receipt for R$200, paid to a special counter in the Federal Police building, or certain banks.
If one’s original visa application was not in Portuguese, one must supply a translation. This translation must be done by an offical. Once that translation is received, one must have the signature of that translator affirmed by a public notary.
To open a bank account, buy a cell phone, or get a library card, one must have a CPF number. To get a CPF number, one must:
register with the federal police, pay a R$5 fee to the bank, and stand in line at the Federal Receita in the Ministry of the Fazenda.
To open a bank account, one must also have more than just a temporary police registration card. One must also call the number on the back of the card and say, I need a “sincre”. Naturally, no one but a tired voice on a recording will attend the phone.
Even if one has all these things, one must still show proof of residency through a phone, gas, or light bill with one’s name on it. It must have been sent withing the previous month. This impossibility for me (because I live with families, moving each month) requires me to ask my friend to buy a cell phone in her name for me. A week later, the company calls me to “check the buyer’s information.” I don’t understand what they want, don’t have the information on me, and don’t want to give information over the phone in any case.
My friend and I make a special trip to the store where we bought the phone to square away this issue. They tell us everything is now settled. The next day my ability to make outgoing calls is cut off. When I call the company, the attendant says that the problem was probably that the new information was not yet in the system before the debilitating action was taken. Now my friend must return to the store or send in her documents to São Paulo, which will take about 5 days.
You know you try to preempt some action some detrimental action some extra steps that these corporations and government agencies put on you and it’s entirely useless. They know you need them and they don’t give a shit about your life. And any fucking mottos and messages given in the name of customer service make the entire process all the more ingratiating. Anything else I can help you with today? What do you mean, anything else? You haven’t done anything helpful at all! Just created more and more for me to do. Fuck you!
Sometimes you have to lie: yes, I do have a finalized grant. Yes, I do live in California.
At each step, the potential for denial of your request is terrorizing. It is never clear what steps will follow from the step ahead because bureaucrats do not give out any more information than that which you have specifically asked about.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
A sample of my notes: the theater group
In the cultural center in the city of Feliz, the theater group played in front of about 335 people (there were only 330 seats in the ampitheater) for the second night in a row. The first night more of the audience was elderly, so that the players could speak more German if they wanted. The second night the audience was much more responsive, willing to laugh and shriek, which Nathana attributed to their being adolescentes and estudantes. Their age also meant that wouldn’t understand much German, so Beto limited the number of lines he spoke in German. They laughed at the “German accent”, a laughter which Beto attributed to the discomfort people have with their own difficulties in speaking Portuguese. If not their own discomfort, then the familiar story of their parents or grandparents’ discomfort.
I asked Beto whether he thought people were laughing at the German accent, making fun of it, and thereby devaluing its worth as a language. He doesn’t think so. He thinks this process is part of recognizing their shame and then dealing with it so as to move forward with again placing value on their ancestry.
He created the tiny theater in Dois Irmãos and has been giving acting lessons for years. The profits he and his theater group make from their shows are enough to keep it going. In total about 10 people work there acting, creating tickets and marketing, etc. Most of his plays deal with German and a revitalization effort toward the culture and language.
The city of Feliz, according to Nathana, is about the same size as Dois Irmaos. It’s bem alemã, her mother said. But a little richer than Dois Irmãos, according to Daiana. The city hall and, across the street, the cultural center are large buildings made of enxaimel, a light brown wood. The inside of the cultural center amphitheater looked new or well taken care of. Still, it wasn’t ideal for the theater group because the stage doesn’t have pernas (‘wings’). But they created their own wings from cloth panels.
The play was about Thil Tapes, a well-known character here and in Germany. No one has ever actually seen him, but he is frequently used as a scapegoat when someone needs to be blamed. The play is set in 1970 in a potato patch. Beto and his daughter, ‘Teresa’ (Nathana) are dressed plainly, as farmers. He in boots, pants tucked into his boots, a button-down shirt and a straw hat, smoking a cigarette. She in a short-sleeved, knee-length yellow dress and havianas. Potatoes are scattered about the stage and a large scarecrow stands behind them. Their movements and speech are exaggerated, slapstick.
People laugh as soon as he starts speaking—a Germanized Portuguese, and maybe even the first lines in German—I couldn’t tell. Features included leninized stops—b/d/g sounding almost like p/t/k; aspirated /t/s; intervocalic z à s; and the intonation was very different from other Portugueses. Sounded to me the way an American cartoon would portray a dumb character—Eyore? Few elongated vowels. Possessive pronoun-noun disagreement: meu unha.
Then come in two characters: tall skinny guy and short (trim) guy with shorts pulled up high on his waist, button down shirt tucked in. Very slapstick and base jokes, mostly just around their stupidity and also a few sexual jokes. Tall guy eats the dad’s dinner. He later says, I ate your dad’s sausage. There may have been some wordplay around the potato sacks, não enche meu saco—but I wasn’t sure. Also, (I think) Teresa tells her dad that she has gotten her period. She says, Fiquei moçinha. He suggests discussing it with her mother. She asks, Did that happen to her, too? And he says, OH yes, it did. [audience laughs]. Repititions of all the tasks she has to do at home: wash and dry the clothes, cook the pork…? and about five other things. This comes up when she is questioning how she will have time to also go to school.
Her potential lover, the tall guy, Murio? (Christian) who is always coming up very close to her and saying, Oi Teresa! he wonders to his friend, the short guy in shorts, son and brother to the other two characters, why he has to go to school everyday if he’s just going to end up here as a farmer anyway. He tells Teresa that she can marry him, but just if she wants to, playing it very casual. But she will have to do all these tasks—lists off the usual number of domestic tasks. They indicate the start of a romance because he takes her hand and kisses it when she shows him her newly painted nails. Then she kisses him on the cheek and they both run away.
At intervals, the sound girl (Daiana) plays German music—hochdaitsch—songs I could understand: “Heimatlos”, “Ein ganzes Lebelang”. Like sappy poppy Bavarian music. There are also some lines in German: muss dich schaeme was one. Nathana speaks almost no German; Odair just some. Beto spoke German growing up and still speaks with his sister. But after his mother died, he really doesn’t speak it much with anyone else, even though he really likes to speak German.
Christian and Daiana speak German at home. They are actually unga and sobrinha, he 20 years old, she 17. There are seven people living in their house: Daiana, her parents, her dad’s parents, their youngest son (Christian) and also Daiana’s sister. So the grandparents had 6-7 kids—either 4 or 5 boys and 2 girls. Both girls died and one son died in a motorcycle accident. They found him by himself, so people don’t know exactly what happened, if a car hit him or what. So the eldest son is 36, and his child is just three years younger than his youngest brother, Christian.
After the show, Beto says a few words about reconnecting with their German heritage. It’s very difficult, though, because kids in the audience keep talking and laughing. Eventually he says what he wanted, but the audience was clearly more interested in continuing the laughing atmosphere.
I asked Beto whether he thought people were laughing at the German accent, making fun of it, and thereby devaluing its worth as a language. He doesn’t think so. He thinks this process is part of recognizing their shame and then dealing with it so as to move forward with again placing value on their ancestry.
He created the tiny theater in Dois Irmãos and has been giving acting lessons for years. The profits he and his theater group make from their shows are enough to keep it going. In total about 10 people work there acting, creating tickets and marketing, etc. Most of his plays deal with German and a revitalization effort toward the culture and language.
The city of Feliz, according to Nathana, is about the same size as Dois Irmaos. It’s bem alemã, her mother said. But a little richer than Dois Irmãos, according to Daiana. The city hall and, across the street, the cultural center are large buildings made of enxaimel, a light brown wood. The inside of the cultural center amphitheater looked new or well taken care of. Still, it wasn’t ideal for the theater group because the stage doesn’t have pernas (‘wings’). But they created their own wings from cloth panels.
The play was about Thil Tapes, a well-known character here and in Germany. No one has ever actually seen him, but he is frequently used as a scapegoat when someone needs to be blamed. The play is set in 1970 in a potato patch. Beto and his daughter, ‘Teresa’ (Nathana) are dressed plainly, as farmers. He in boots, pants tucked into his boots, a button-down shirt and a straw hat, smoking a cigarette. She in a short-sleeved, knee-length yellow dress and havianas. Potatoes are scattered about the stage and a large scarecrow stands behind them. Their movements and speech are exaggerated, slapstick.
People laugh as soon as he starts speaking—a Germanized Portuguese, and maybe even the first lines in German—I couldn’t tell. Features included leninized stops—b/d/g sounding almost like p/t/k; aspirated /t/s; intervocalic z à s; and the intonation was very different from other Portugueses. Sounded to me the way an American cartoon would portray a dumb character—Eyore? Few elongated vowels. Possessive pronoun-noun disagreement: meu unha.
Then come in two characters: tall skinny guy and short (trim) guy with shorts pulled up high on his waist, button down shirt tucked in. Very slapstick and base jokes, mostly just around their stupidity and also a few sexual jokes. Tall guy eats the dad’s dinner. He later says, I ate your dad’s sausage. There may have been some wordplay around the potato sacks, não enche meu saco—but I wasn’t sure. Also, (I think) Teresa tells her dad that she has gotten her period. She says, Fiquei moçinha. He suggests discussing it with her mother. She asks, Did that happen to her, too? And he says, OH yes, it did. [audience laughs]. Repititions of all the tasks she has to do at home: wash and dry the clothes, cook the pork…? and about five other things. This comes up when she is questioning how she will have time to also go to school.
Her potential lover, the tall guy, Murio? (Christian) who is always coming up very close to her and saying, Oi Teresa! he wonders to his friend, the short guy in shorts, son and brother to the other two characters, why he has to go to school everyday if he’s just going to end up here as a farmer anyway. He tells Teresa that she can marry him, but just if she wants to, playing it very casual. But she will have to do all these tasks—lists off the usual number of domestic tasks. They indicate the start of a romance because he takes her hand and kisses it when she shows him her newly painted nails. Then she kisses him on the cheek and they both run away.
At intervals, the sound girl (Daiana) plays German music—hochdaitsch—songs I could understand: “Heimatlos”, “Ein ganzes Lebelang”. Like sappy poppy Bavarian music. There are also some lines in German: muss dich schaeme was one. Nathana speaks almost no German; Odair just some. Beto spoke German growing up and still speaks with his sister. But after his mother died, he really doesn’t speak it much with anyone else, even though he really likes to speak German.
Christian and Daiana speak German at home. They are actually unga and sobrinha, he 20 years old, she 17. There are seven people living in their house: Daiana, her parents, her dad’s parents, their youngest son (Christian) and also Daiana’s sister. So the grandparents had 6-7 kids—either 4 or 5 boys and 2 girls. Both girls died and one son died in a motorcycle accident. They found him by himself, so people don’t know exactly what happened, if a car hit him or what. So the eldest son is 36, and his child is just three years younger than his youngest brother, Christian.
After the show, Beto says a few words about reconnecting with their German heritage. It’s very difficult, though, because kids in the audience keep talking and laughing. Eventually he says what he wanted, but the audience was clearly more interested in continuing the laughing atmosphere.
Brazilian homes
Brazilian homes seem to have some things in common. At least the ones I’ve seen in RS. The outside presents a red tile roof. The walls are constructed from a mix of cement and brick, with beams of pine and eucalyptus for additional support. The bricks are approximately 1’ x .5’ with 6 hollowed cylinders stretching the length of the brick. The houses in DI are painted a variety of colors—whites, pastels, or bright yellows, greens or pinks. The front door opens to the living room or dining room. There are generally three small bedrooms, a living room with a tv, a kitchen, a laundry room, and one bathroom. The garage is a place to sit and entertain people. The garage door stays open. The barbecue spit is also often in the garage, so that on Sundays, everyone sits on beach chairs and eats around a plastic table.
In the bathroom there is a small trash can with a lid, in which used toilet paper is put. The toilet paper is not biodegradable and therefore will not decompose and will possibly also clog the pipes if flushed. To flush, one must either pull a string or push a circular lever on the backboard. In some cases the shower gets hotter the less water is used. There is usually no temperature control separate from water power.
When I first got to the Horns, I had some minor confusions. One was the enormous waste basket in the bathroom. I thought, these people really take a lot of dumps! Then I saw a smaller basket on the other side of the toilet, and upon opening the larger one, understood that it was a hamper. Another issue were the pictures in the daughter’s bedroom. In her shelves she had three pictures of herself, two of her boyfriend, and seven of the two of them together. Neither her smile nor the composition of the photograph was any different in each instance. For a moment I was relieved to see a mirror so that I could look at someone else, but then there she was again, albeit in black and white.
In the kitchen there was a bowl of several dozen eggs. In the oven several containers of bread and also a table cloth. In the toaster oven some sort of meat project was taking its course. Then there were cloths covering the wet dishes in the sink and blender on a side table. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how to turn on the stove.
Eventually I learned the logic for everything: leftovers were often stored in the toaster oven, to keep them perhaps just a little bit warm. Because the regular oven didn’t work, it was used as an extra cabinet. The stove could be lit only with a lighter. The eggs had all come from Lisete’s mother’s farm (although why they weren’t refrigerated is still unclear to me). Eggs frequently exist outside the refrigerated section of the Brazilian supermarket. And Lisete likes things looking clean and pretty, so she’ll cover up any dishes not in the cupboard.
All through the streets, colorful laundry hangs on clotheslines strung across porches and backyards. At first I was wary of hanging up my underwear but then saw that everyone does it. Makes you really want to get those stains out. They don’t have dryers, but the washing machines have an extra spin cycle, so that the clothes come out drier than they do in American machines. Other things lacking: garbage disposals, dishwashers, heating!!!—they don’t heat their houses in winter, although you can sit around the fireplace, stove, or spaceheater—answering machines, pianos, bathtubs, washcloths, and toilets that flush paper.
But their mattresses are awesome. They have no restrictions on what colors to paint their houses. There seems to be much less clutter than is found in a lot of American homes. Cleaning is a priority for most women. If they don’t do it themselves, they often hire someone else. Another awesome thing is the thickness of the walls. I am often able to block out the noise from the terrible television shows in the living room; if not just by shutting the door, then with the aid of a fan.
Dois Irmãos
The bus winds around the mountain road. On either side a dense mix of greens—palm fronds, pine trees, and jacarandas. I expect at any minute a leopard or a toucan to emerge from the foliage; its lushness could hide anything. Before the mountains, the landscape is mostly flat, bright green grass with small houses spotting the roadside. Often they are brick or a mixture of cement and brick. Boxy houses with red tile rooves. Then a town passes by. Cobble-stone streets with children chasing dogs, fenced-in yards and an occasional jacaranda tree.
When the bus starts up the incline of the serra mountains, I look for traces of German colonies. The half-timbered houses with sloping, wooden rooves; flowerbeds beneath the windows, and German writing on the signs. At the entrance to Santa Cruz do Sul, two enormous dolls stand in stereotypical dress. Frida wears a dirndl and Fritz wears lederhosen. The bus passes through Novo Hamburgo, São Leopoldo, and then there are only 21 kilometers before Dois Irmãos. Dois Irmãos, or ‘Two Brothers’, refers to two neighboring hills that used to look identical. Now one of them has had most of its trees removed and the land has been burnt to make room for sugar cane plantations. The family-owned farms grow the cane for cachaça exports. Cachaça is a type of rum.
The bus turns off the BR 116 highway and stops at the corner of the busiest avenue of Dois Irmãos, Irineu Becker. There passengers unload at the bus station, and some stop to eat at the restaurant next door or stay in the pousada above the restaurant. It is a dingy place but okay for someone passing through with R$30 in their pocket. Thirty reais is equal to about $17.
Becker Avenue leads to the center of town. Large grocery, clothing, and furniture stores line the avenue (large for Brazil, normal for the US). The center is two parallel cobblestone streets with small shops lining either side. There are three churches—Catholic, Evangelical, and Lutheran—a museum of German immigration, and various cultural centers. The museum exhibits its objects and documents within a house built in the 1860s. It is one of very few original, half-timbered houses in the town.
Many young people frequent the Center Grill, which is one of the several places that serves dinner. All other restaurants and cafes close by 7pm. Because lunch is the big meal of the day, a lot of people eat a sandwich or fried dough filled with meat for dinner. People stroll the streets with a thermos and gourd in hand. This gourd is filled with bright green mate herbs, which are pushed to one side. Then a metallic straw and hot water from the thermos fill the other side of the gourd. After one has sucked up all the water in the gourd, one refills it and passes it to one’s friend. Sharing germs is not discussed.
When the bus starts up the incline of the serra mountains, I look for traces of German colonies. The half-timbered houses with sloping, wooden rooves; flowerbeds beneath the windows, and German writing on the signs. At the entrance to Santa Cruz do Sul, two enormous dolls stand in stereotypical dress. Frida wears a dirndl and Fritz wears lederhosen. The bus passes through Novo Hamburgo, São Leopoldo, and then there are only 21 kilometers before Dois Irmãos. Dois Irmãos, or ‘Two Brothers’, refers to two neighboring hills that used to look identical. Now one of them has had most of its trees removed and the land has been burnt to make room for sugar cane plantations. The family-owned farms grow the cane for cachaça exports. Cachaça is a type of rum.
The bus turns off the BR 116 highway and stops at the corner of the busiest avenue of Dois Irmãos, Irineu Becker. There passengers unload at the bus station, and some stop to eat at the restaurant next door or stay in the pousada above the restaurant. It is a dingy place but okay for someone passing through with R$30 in their pocket. Thirty reais is equal to about $17.
Becker Avenue leads to the center of town. Large grocery, clothing, and furniture stores line the avenue (large for Brazil, normal for the US). The center is two parallel cobblestone streets with small shops lining either side. There are three churches—Catholic, Evangelical, and Lutheran—a museum of German immigration, and various cultural centers. The museum exhibits its objects and documents within a house built in the 1860s. It is one of very few original, half-timbered houses in the town.
Many young people frequent the Center Grill, which is one of the several places that serves dinner. All other restaurants and cafes close by 7pm. Because lunch is the big meal of the day, a lot of people eat a sandwich or fried dough filled with meat for dinner. People stroll the streets with a thermos and gourd in hand. This gourd is filled with bright green mate herbs, which are pushed to one side. Then a metallic straw and hot water from the thermos fill the other side of the gourd. After one has sucked up all the water in the gourd, one refills it and passes it to one’s friend. Sharing germs is not discussed.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
My First Communion
This is the first posting of the first blog of the first Claire I. I am unaware of its full implications, but those should come out soon, I suppose. Firstly, welcome. Secondly, long time no see! Most people reading this, which I hope will be no more than about five per month, will be in the States and therefore not have seen me since July 15, 2007 at most recent.
Since then I have spent a few weeks in Porto Alegre, which is the capital of Rio Grande do Sul, the most southern state of Brazil. Then a few days in São Paulo when Paul came to visit, and then I made the big move to the little town of Dois Irmãos, Rio Grande do Sul. I moved there without knowing where I would stay but wanting to be available for the first family who wanted to extend an invitation to live with them for several months.
Two weeks later, after a couple miserable nights in the pousada above the bus station and then a lovely hotel, I moved in with my first family. I stayed with them one week, speaking Hunsrückisch and Hochdeutsch with the parents when the kids weren´t around. The kids speak only Portuguese. They would have liked for me to stay longer but for lack of space. During my stay the daughter had slept in her brother´s room, reluctantly. As with the family I am with now, they let me do what i want on my schedule, and always invite me to participate in family events, such as lunchtime at 12pm.
The current family is letting me stay for a month, because the son comes home only on weekends, sleeping in his sister´s room, and then goes back to high school in another city. He plans to be an NBA star. He occasionally speaks a few sentences in English with his girlfriend, but only if I´m in the other room. The mom speaks Hunsrückisch and Portuguese with me. The dad speaks in quiet mutterings of Portuguese that are difficult to understand but we nevertheless share some sort of humor.
If i can figure out how to post pictures, I will show you these kind people that have been my first hosts in this mountain town of 28,000 people, most of whom are bilingual or have bilingual parents.
Since then I have spent a few weeks in Porto Alegre, which is the capital of Rio Grande do Sul, the most southern state of Brazil. Then a few days in São Paulo when Paul came to visit, and then I made the big move to the little town of Dois Irmãos, Rio Grande do Sul. I moved there without knowing where I would stay but wanting to be available for the first family who wanted to extend an invitation to live with them for several months.
Two weeks later, after a couple miserable nights in the pousada above the bus station and then a lovely hotel, I moved in with my first family. I stayed with them one week, speaking Hunsrückisch and Hochdeutsch with the parents when the kids weren´t around. The kids speak only Portuguese. They would have liked for me to stay longer but for lack of space. During my stay the daughter had slept in her brother´s room, reluctantly. As with the family I am with now, they let me do what i want on my schedule, and always invite me to participate in family events, such as lunchtime at 12pm.
The current family is letting me stay for a month, because the son comes home only on weekends, sleeping in his sister´s room, and then goes back to high school in another city. He plans to be an NBA star. He occasionally speaks a few sentences in English with his girlfriend, but only if I´m in the other room. The mom speaks Hunsrückisch and Portuguese with me. The dad speaks in quiet mutterings of Portuguese that are difficult to understand but we nevertheless share some sort of humor.
If i can figure out how to post pictures, I will show you these kind people that have been my first hosts in this mountain town of 28,000 people, most of whom are bilingual or have bilingual parents.
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