St. John's Day- June 24th - Festa de São João

In Glória on June 24th, we celebrated the Festa de São João, St. John's Day, celebrating John the Baptist. Like many religious holidays, the celebration had little to do with religion. This festival has been celebrated in Portugal for more than 600 years. It has sacred roots but is also mixed with pagan traditions. In Glória, I thought it was sort of a cross between Sadie Hawkins Day and Trick or Treating.

The ginásio where I taught sponsored a quadrilha, which was similar to square dancing or line dancing. Participants practiced for weeks so we could put on a performance. It was customary for females to ask males to be their partners and everyone dressed up like the Brazilian version of hillbillies, thus the similarity to Sadie Hawkins Day.

The first June I was there (1968) I asked Zé Francisco (who worked at the Brazilian Legion of Assistance to create chicken cooperatives) to be my partner. I wore a red print dress someone had loaned to me.

The next year (1969) I asked my student José Augusto to be my partner. He was a very nice and hard-working man who worked as a tailor to support himself and his mother. Since there had been no high school in the town for most of his life, when the ginásio was founded, he went back to school in his mid-twenties, so he was a few years older than I was. That year, I had a green & pink print dress made for myself by a local seamstress. I still have it in a closet in my attic, although I will never fit into it ever again.

We danced to music on a recording by Luis Gonzaga, featuring lots of accordian music. Before I left Brazil, I copied the dance instructions in both English and Portuguese and took a Luis Gonzaga record home with me. On several occasions when I taught in public schools in the U.S., I taught a shortened version of the quadrilha to students for International Week performances.

In Glória, Judite (the girl on the right of the quadrilha photos in a blue dress) was the "caller" who would call out the moves we made.

The quadrilha was a lot of fun ---and some of the moves were humorous. For example, she would call out "Here comes the rain," and we would hold our hands over our heads. Then she would call, "Watch out for the mud," and we would pretend we were wading through deep mud, picking up our feet in an exaggerated way.

Most of the participants were students, but other young people in the town participated, including Brunie and me.

Several other traditions of São João were that people built bonfires in front of their homes and roasted cobs of corn on the coals. Pamonha, a sweet corn pudding, was also popular. The purposes of the festival were to celebrate rural life and to thank the saints for the rain which comes in the late fall, winter, and early spring months (May through September south of the equator.) The June solstice marks the beginning of winter in Brazil.

Young men would wear a half of a coconut shell on a string around their necks and go door to door asking for genipap (not sure if I spelled that correctly) ----a sweet liquor which they drank from the shells.

Forty years ago, São João's Day was mostly celebrated in rural areas of the northeast (like Glória) for a day or two, but now it seems that June is a full month of festas to honor several saints. Throughout Brazil, June is filled with singing, dancing, food, concerts fireworks, and costumes.

Poet Jorge Henrique of Glória posted photos of recent São João celebrations HERE. (Once you arrive at that page, click on "VEJA AS FOTOS!" for a slide show.)

(photos ©1967-1969, text ©2009, C.J. Peiffer)

ALEGRIA! ALEGRIA! (Happiness! Happiness!) Part 1

Alegria! Alegria!

Losing contact:

        When I left Brazil in 1969, I wrote to people there for a while, but (at least at that time) Brazilians weren’t great letter writers and many people took months to respond or didn’t respond at all. Or, perhaps our letters were lost in the mail. Eventually my teaching job, graduate school, art work, volunteer work, a new love who turned into my first husband, and my hectic lifestyle all took over and I lost touch completely with the wonderful people I had worked with in Glória.
        After I had internet service at home, 15 years ago or so, I occasionally searched for the town of Glória, with no luck. I knew it might take a while for information technology to catch up in the sertão.
        About 5 years ago, I finally found a web site called Sou de Glória (I’m from Glória). There were many virtual postcards on the site, including one showing the cell tower that served the town. I knew then, that Glória was no longer the underdeveloped town in the middle of the hinterland. Other photos showed a town so much larger than it was in 1969. The only thing I recognized was the church. I posted a notice on that web site stating that I would like to contact old friends from Glória, but all I received were spam messages from Brazilian businesses.
        In late 2008, I found a notice about a poet and professor from Glória, Jorge Henrique, who was going to present his epic poem on the anniversary of the founding of Glória. It included an email address. I sent him a message asking if he knew some of the people I wished to contact, and if so, requested he give them my email address.
        Although I heard back from him and saw that he was following my blog, I didn’t hear from anyone else.

Last week, everything changed:
        On May 17th, Jorge Henrique ----obrigada, obrigada (thank you, thank you) ---wrote a short article about my blog and posted it on the official web site of N.S. da Glória and also on the web site of the colégio there.

)

Dona Guiomar and her family.

I heard from Celia, top left and

Alcione, in front. (See disclaimer

at bottom about poor photo quality.)

        Within a few days, I heard from Alcione the youngest daughter of Dona Guiomar ---a great and progressive woman who was the elementary school director when I left Glória in 1969. Alcione, was six when I left Brazil. She sent me news of her mother, older sisters and brother. Also Alcione planned to be in Glória on the weekend of May 22nd and intended to see who she could find that I knew back when. A few days later I heard from her eldest sister Celia who was about 13 when I left Brazil. She told me her father had died c. 1974. Her mother is now 81 and is doing well.

Idalécinho (middle) at about age 16

with his parents, sisters, brothers,

and cat.

        Also, I received an email from Idalécio, who I knew as Idalécinho, one of my former students. After I replied to him, he kindly wrote back with more news of residents of Glória.

       I actually cried reading his email. First, sadly, some of the people I knew had died, including his parents, a friend who had worked at the bank and taught at the ginásio, and Dona Nininha who had treated Brunie and me like daughters. A few days later, I heard from Nadja, one of Dona Nininha's daughters.

        I also cried from joy to hear wonderful news of my former students.

(©2009, C.J. Peiffer)

Read the rest of this story in

Alegria! Alegria! Part 2

Please excuse my very bad photography.

The photo of Dona Guiomar and Idalecinho

and their families are so bad that I was almost

embarrassed to show them. Below you can see the

photos as I scanned them from 40-year-old slides.

In comparison, the ones I enhanced above aren't so awful.

(Original slides.

Left Dona Guiomar & family.

Right: Idalecinho and family.)

ALEGRIA! ALEGRIA! Part 2

Overland, a former student,

is now a meteorologist in Sergipe.

Alegria! Alegria!

continued

Making contact:

        In my post Alegria! Alegria! Part 1, I explained that I had been trying to contact my former students from my work as a teacher in the Peace Corp in Brazil. After many years of trying, I finally was contacted by several people I knew when I lived there.

        Sadly I learned a few people had died. 

        But I was so thrilled to learn of the lives of my former students that I actually cried with joy when I read about their successes.

        When I left Glória, 40 years ago, I was proud to be a part of the first ginásio  (high school) in the town. It had been established only a few years earlier. When I arrived, no one had graduated yet, but would soon. As proud as I was to be teaching these wonderful students ---I am a firm believer that education can open doors for everyone ---I admit I worried that there would be no opportunities for high school graduates in Glória.
        The town had no industry. Except for local farms and small businesses that served the town (bars, bakeries, a fabric shop, cabinet makers, etc.) there were several government agencies. DNOCS was a federal agency fighting droughts. ANCARSE provided a home economist and an agronomist to help farmers and homemakers and to teach students practical skills at one-room schools in the interior. Also there was a Brazilian Legion of Assistance that was in Glória to create chicken cooperatives. Most of the people working in these agencies were not from Glória. They had come from the capital city Aracajú and most would move back there or to another larger city if the opportunity arose.
        There was also a branch of the Bank of Brazil which had an all-male work force. Most of the bankers were also from other cities, with only two local employees with low-level jobs. And most of the men had submitted requests to move to larger cities when there were openings for them.
        Opportunities for women were almost non-existant, except for teaching. But there wasn’t a need for more than a few teachers, and most teaching jobs were part-time.
        Those who wanted to continue their educations would have to live in Aracajú or another larger city to attend a colégio, which was somewhat like the last two years of high school in the U.S. That meant staying with relatives or paying room and board in addition to tuition. Some students’ families already struggled to pay for tuition, uniforms, books and other supplies for the ginásio. The good thing was that if students completed courses at a colégio, university tuition would be free.
        I feared it would take decades for any progress in the town to permit the graduates to branch into new fields or to build better lives for themselves, their families, and their community.

        I am so happy that I was wrong.

Overjoyed:
        My former student Idalécio told me he is a chemical engineer and a professor. Other former students are a meteorologist, a bank manager, a federal police officer, a lawyer, a doctor, a secretary of agriculture, and a social worker. Several are teachers.

Idalécio at about age 16 in a detail of a larger photo (see below ) is now an chemical engineer and a professor.

        Wow! I feel like a proud parent who wants to brag about her children. But, of course, 40 years have passed and none of my former students are children. In fact, some are older than I am. I had just turned 22 when I arrived and not quite 24 when I left Glória. Some adults who had never before had the opportunity to attend high school, were my students. The oldest was 44. The youngest was 12 and would be 52 now.
        I am so proud that I played even the tiniest part in their educations. Apparently, at least for some, the doors of opportunity were opened. I’m sure it took much hard work and sacrifice for many of them to continue learning and to achieve success in their chosen fields, but they did.
        Knowing this, is the best gift I have received in many years.

Que ALEGRIA!

(What HAPPINESS!)

When I wanted to take a final photo of Glória

before leaving in 1969, Idalecinho posed on a

bench in the praça in front of the church.

(©2009, C.J. Peiffer)

GLÓRIA IN BLACK AND WHITE

more material goods. Brazilian women began to realize that with fewer children, everyone in the family could have a better life.)

        Below is another photo taken in front of our house. I am leaning against the utility pole with letters just delivered by the postman.  A group of neighbors seemed to have gathered to see what was going on.  I think the boy in the hat was our landlord's younger brother and the landlord's wife is leaning against the door frame just left of the utility pole. Between the postman and me is Nadja, a neighbor girl and student at the ginásio.


        And finally, there I am on the back of a donkey. My riding a donkey is about as ridiculous as Michael Dukakis riding a tank, but I don't think I actually rode it, I just posed with it. 

        Occasionally Brunie and I did ride horses or mules. A large family from the interior (mentioned above) would invite us to lunch (the large meal of the day) on a Sunday.  They sent two of their smaller boys on two horses or mules and we would ride back with them sitting behind us. Then we'd ride home with the boys again, and thn they'd fo home on the horses.

        I think this was taken outside of town at the dam which had been built by DNOCS, the National Department of Works Against Droughts.

        In this photo, Linda, a Volunteer from Brunie's group is on the left. She lived in another town in Sergipe (Propría, I think) and was visiting us for a few days. (Linda is featured in a previous post.)

       Gugu, the boy who delivered water to our house is beside her with his shirt open. An unknown person is hidden behind me. In the water is Overland, one of my students.

        Overland (pronounced Oh-ver-láwn-dee) was named for a truck his father saw in an American movie. He was the oldest child. The next child was a girl, so they named her Maryland and then didn't have a name ending in "land" for the next child, so called him Joséland. Their father was known as Zé de Shell (Zé is short for José) because he had, at one time, worked for Shell Oil. He ran the town's generator which gave the town electricity from 6-10 pm before full-time electricity came to Glória.

        On at least one occasion, Overland loaned me his horse.

        In the morning, Overland often rode the horse to his family's farm several miles outside of town to get milk. He would stop at our house for Brunie to make hot chocolate to share with him.

THANKS, BRUNIE

for the photos and the memories

(text, ©2009, C.J. Peiffer)