The First and Last-Ever FOR Women Only Post on this Blog

8 02 2008

(Okay, I’ll give the guys part of it.  But highlight the rest to read.)

Top 5 Reasons I Hate the Colour of Translucent White Abadas

5. Every class serves as free advertising for a variety of underwear manufacturers.

4. You are one of aforementioned advertisers.

3. For one week of every month, you can’t concentrate on training while training.

2. Sometimes, aforementioned week arrives unexpectedly.

1. Sometimes, aforementioned arrival occurs as you change before class, therefore robbing you of much-anticipated training and forcing a hasty and ridiculous U-turn escape out of the academy before class starts or more people arrive and ask where (that is, why) you are going.

Can you say “PORRA!”?





Videos: Puxada de Rede

7 02 2008

Between puxada de rede as ritual, as celebration, as prayer, as livelihood, and as folklore, you can imagine just how many ways there are to interpret and choreograph this dance/play.  The following are two videos that I think together fully represent all of what puxada de rede is.  Enjoy!


This first video was one of my favourites out of all the ones I saw, because it seemed to incorporate everything, all the elements of the story and of the tradition:




This second video is not of a performance, but—the real thing!  It’s a clip from Rex Schlinder’s documentary, Bahia Por Exemplo, and shows a group of fishermen doing puxada de rede as it was originally intended, hauling a gargantuan net of fish out of the sea and onto shore.




Click here to read other posts in Capoeira é Dança





Capoeira é Dança, Part 2: Puxada de Rede

6 02 2008

Although I have never seen puxada de rede performed before, I was enchanted as soon as I started reading about it.  Perhaps it was the idea of theatre exalting the real, of the supernatural convening with the natural, or of beauty growing out of tragedy, but something about it hooked me (pun not intended).  I hope you feel the same!

Tradition and Necessity

A fisherman throwing out a net 

Puxada de Rede, like many traditional Afro-Brazilian dances, is marinated in legend and folklore. Unlike other dances such as maculelê, however, the “original” puxada de rede is still a true-to-form way of life today.

Named for fishermen’s “pulling of the net”, puxada de rede is a dance as well as a “folkloric theatrical play” evoking the lives of traditional fishermen in Brazil. More specifically, the dance/play is a tribute to both the sea and the fisherman’s work in Bahia, where both have figured and continue to figure tremendously into the region’s lifestyle. Fishing by puxada de rede (the method) is one of the most important means of sustenance in Bahia, and commonly seen along the Northeastern coast of Brazil, due to the large amounts of xaréu fish that migrate to the warmer waters there between October and April each year. (“Xaréu” is both a common dark meat fish and the name used for several species of fish in the Atlantic Ocean.) For this reason, puxada de rede is also sometimes known as “puxada de rede do xaréu” or “xaréu hake”.

The ritual of puxada de rede is a legacy with a line thrown back to the period of slavery in Brazil—or rather, the period right after slavery. According to one source, former slaves had difficulty finding jobs in the labour market, and so they made their living at sea; Bahia, apparently, was the first place to see this happen. Today, puxada de rede represents an ever more significantly renewable resource in Brazil, upon which thousands of families depend.

In the Hands of the Goddess

Performance of puxada de redeAfter reviewing a myriad of sources and videos, it appears that the puxada de rede can be performed with a choice of emphasis on one of three concepts: the death of a fisherman who went out to sea at night; acknowledging, entreating, and thanking Yemanjá, the Goddess of the Sea, while celebrating the aquatic windfall she has provided; or the actual process and ritual of puxada de rede itself. Elements of all three are found in the following popular legend, on which most performances of puxada de rede are based:

One night under the full moon, a fisherman went to fish at sea, in order to feed his family. He kissed his wife goodbye. She had a bad feeling about her husband going to fish at night. She warned him and told him of the dangers of fishing at night. Nevertheless, the fisherman left the house, despite his wife’s tears and children’s scared faces.

The fisherman went to sea and took with him the image of Nossa Senhora dos Navegantes (Our Lady of Sailors). He went with his fellow fishermen and God’s blessing. Hours before the fisherman was supposed to return, his wife waited for him on the beach. She had an odd vision. She saw the fishing boat return with the fishermen on board. They were very sad, and some of them were in tears. They then got off the ship. In panic, the woman realized that her husband was not there. The fishermen told her that he had fallen off deck into the darkness of the night. They could not find him in Yemanjá’s waters.

In the morning, when they pulled the net that was in the ocean, they noticed that they had caught much less fish than they expected, yet the net was heavier than usual. Once the net was on shore, they realized that the missing fisherman’s body was in the net. Everyone became very emotional and desperation took over those who were present.

They proceeded to hold funerary rituals for the fisherman. They carried his body on their shoulders because they could not afford a coffin. His companions and loved ones took his body to his eternal resting spot.

(Source:
http://www.yourbestsiding.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=27&Itemid=78)

Gone Fishing

Performance of puxada de redeThe actual process of puxada de rede takes place every year in Bahia, flanked with music, rituals, poetry, festivities, and religion. It begins with fishers and their families preparing the xaréu nets, which crisscross rolls of strong, resistant wire with about a thousand metres of rope. Wearing short trousers or shorts and straw hats, groups of fishermen throw the net into the sea at the start of chanting, commanded by the “Master of the Sea”. (One source describes a “Master of Land” as well, who coordinates everything with the “Master of the Sea” and team generals.) The nets are then trawled out in large, heavy rafts that form a semi-circle in order to entrap the migrating, spawning fish. At this point, possibly fishermen go out in canoes and dive under the water to see how many fish have been caught.

Again at the Master’s signal, the bona fide puxada de rede begins—ritual, synchronized movement of bodies pulling the fish-laden net knot by knot out of the sea. The fishermen’s wives and families, meanwhile, sing and clap along the beach in order to fortify the spirits of those involved in the puxada de rede. Finally, the fish are secured, collected, and cleaned, followed by celebrations and thanks given for the catch.

Water Ballet

The dance/theatre version of all of the above transforms hardship, physical labour, and grief into a sublime ballet with the “resonance and poetic power of opera”. Work and joy are united through “force, power, and vitality” in body, along with music, ritual, and poetry in mind, all of which progresses in rhythm with the rolling, watery sphere of Yemanjá. As for the music, puxada de rede is executed to a slow atabaque beat. Song lyrics invoke Yemanjá for protection and abundance, as well as praise and thanks for the goddess. Both sad and joyous, the songs also convey the “natural beauty and daily struggles of the fisherman’s life”.

Puxada de rede is another traditional dance with acommpanying festivities in Brazil

With the development of technology in the fishing industry and otherwise, some say that the traditional puxada de rede has been reduced to a single, thin stripe of its former rainbow of tradition. Without ritual, songs, choreographed steps, nor the “charm and magic of the past”, puxada de rede may now occur on a much smaller scale than before, and also among fewer and smaller populations in Bahia. If this is true, then it makes the dance of puxada de rede all the more meaningful, as a both a tradition and the vivid memory of one.

Click here for a list of puxada de rede song lyrics

Click here to see other posts in  Capoeira é Dança

Sources:
http://www.capoeiranyc.com/puxadaderede.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puxada_de_rede
http://www.capoeirasuldabahia.com.br/eng/default.asp?idp=23
http://gingartecapoeira.org/performances/afro-brazilian-dances/puxada-de-rede
http://formadogarrote.blogspot.com/2007/07/puxada-de-rede.html (with Google translation)
http://ube-164.pop.com.br/repositorio/35645/meusite/puxadaderede.html (with Google translation)
http://www.arteregional.com.br/curiosidades.html (with Google translation)
http://www.capoeiraddr.kit.net/txt_puxada.htm (with Google translation)
http://www.capoeiracaracas.com/?p=35 (with Google translation)
http://www.fumeb.org/pt/show.htm (with Google translation)
http://www.geocities.com/abada_cuiaba/puxada_de_rede.htm (with Google translation)
http://www.raizesbaianas.com/paginas/capoeira_az/capoeira_p.html (with Google translation)
http://www.scribd.com/doc/231575/Puxada-de-rede (with Google translation)
http://www.capoeirabrazil.com.au/music.htm
http://www.yourbestsiding.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=27&Itemid=78
http://www.capoeiraaltoastral.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=56&Itemid=67 (with Google translation)
http://www.balefolcloricodabahia.com.br/eng/repertorio.html
http://www.abrasoffa.org.br/folclore/danfesfol/bahiaingles.htm
http://www.rochestercitynewspaper.com/archives/2006/3/+We+play+

Picture sources:
www.capoeirasuldabahia.com.br
www.fundacaocultural.ba.gov.br
http://jscms.jrn.columbia.edu
http://olhares.aeiou.pt/puxada_de_rede/foto1463444.html





Capoeira and Change on Blue Snake Books Blog

5 02 2008

Remember when I wanted to know, “Can Capoeira Change the World?”  Well, now that I’ve asked the question, I’m setting out to find the answer!  This is to announce a new “series” I’m doing (the term will be used more loosely for this one than for my other series) , all about capoeira and change.  Whether it’s discussing the rise of capoeira angola and its role in the Black Movement, or spotlighting a specific grupo’s philanthropic project in Brazil, I’m going to cover it.  And the best part?  It won’t be on this blog!

Blue Snake Books, North American publisher of Nestor Capoeira, Mestre Acordeon, and others

Instead, the series will be on Blue Snake Books Blog, where I was asked about a month ago to do some writing for them.  Blue Snake Books is the leading martial arts book publisher in North America, including of all the (English) capoeira books we know and love so well, so I am very excited to be doing this!

The series will run roughly every 1-2 weeks or so and starts today, with a post discussing Capoeira as a Force of Change.  Be sure to check it out, and don’t forget to keep a further eye out for me there!

Update: Get a special project or person featured in this series, and win a Mandingueira notebook!  Click here for details.

 

Capoeira and Change: Archives

Capoeira as a Force of Change
Capoeira é Magia: ACSF and Why Capoeira Changes Us
GCAP and Capoeira Identity Politics
Growing Crystals: FICA Capoeira Women’s Conference and Initiating Real Change

(Background/From Mandingueira:)
Can Capoeira Change the World?
Can Capoeira Change the World? Part 2





Goodbye to All That

4 02 2008

This was an essay I read today, and it was so powerful and illuminating (the way a large searchlight illuminates a murder scene) that I’m going to re-post it here as today’s entry.  Please note that although it concludes as an endorsement for Hillary Clinton as the next President of the United States, I don’t necessarily prefer Clinton myself and I’m not posting it for that reason.  I’m posting it for everything the author writes up until the endorsement, and if you are anti-Clinton, please do not let the conclusion wipe out everything you have read before that point. I know it’s a long read, but it’s the best, most comprehensive piece of writing I’ve ever seen that gets across so clearly why I care, and why we should all care.  Please take the time to read it, and if after doing so, you still don’t understand, still don’t see the need for feminism, still don’t care or feel at all disturbed, bothered, angered or indignant…then read it again.

— 

“The entire future of women’s rights rests upon her election. Love her or hate her, she had to win — or all women lose because the resulting nyah-nyah-nyah from the misogynists of America would become a deafening and dangerous roar.

We solemnly agreed, even though some of us were really Barack Obama fans or John Edwards supporters.

We recognized that the stakes are high, very high, for women.”

-Antonia Zerbisias, Broadsides

GOODBYE TO ALL THAT #2
by Robin Morgan

“Goodbye To All That” was my (in)famous 1970 essay breaking free from a politics of accommodation especially affecting women.

During my decades in civil-rights, anti-war, and contemporary women’s movements, I’ve avoided writing another specific “Goodbye . . .”. But not since the suffrage struggle have two communities–the joint conscience-keepers of this country–been so set in competition, as the contest between Hillary Rodham Clinton (HRC) and Barack Obama (BO) unfurls. So.

Goodbye to the double standard . . .

–Hillary is too ballsy but too womanly, a Snow Maiden who’s emotional, and so much a politician as to be unfit for politics.

–She’s “ambitious” but he shows “fire in the belly.” (Ever had labor pains? )

–When a sexist idiot screamed “Iron my shirt!” at HRC, it was considered amusing; if a racist idiot shouted “Shine my shoes!” at BO, it would’ve inspired hours of airtime and pages of newsprint analyzing our national dishonor.

–Young political Kennedys–Kathleen, Kerry, and Bobby Jr.–all endorsed Hillary. Sen. Ted, age 76, endorsed Obama. If the situation were reversed, pundits would snort “See? Ted and establishment types back her, but the forward-looking generation backs him.” (Personally, I’m unimpressed with Caroline’s longing for the Return of the Fathers. Unlike the rest of the world, Americans have short memories. Me, I still recall Marilyn Monroe’s suicide, and a dead girl named Mary Jo Kopechne in Chappaquiddick.)

Goodbye to the toxic viciousness  . . .

Carl Bernstein’s disgust at Hillary’s “thick ankles.” Nixon-trickster Roger Stone’s new Hillary-hating 527 group, “Citizens United Not Timid” (check the capital letters). John McCain answering “How do we beat the bitch?” with “Excellent question!” Would he have dared reply similarly to “How do we beat the black bastard?” For shame.

Goodbye to the HRC nutcracker with metal spikes between splayed thighs. If it was a tap-dancing blackface doll, we would be righteously outraged—and they would not be selling it in airports. Shame.

Goodbye to the most intimately violent T-shirts in election history, including one with the murderous slogan “If Only Hillary had married O.J. Instead!” Shame.

Goodbye to Comedy Central’s South Park featuring a storyline in which terrorists secrete a bomb in HRC’s vagina. I refuse to wrench my brain down into the gutter far enough to find a race-based comparison. For shame.

Goodbye to the sick, malicious idea that this is funny. This is not “Clinton hating,” not “Hillary hating.” This is sociopathic woman-hating. If it were about Jews, we would recognize it instantly as anti-Semitic propaganda; if about race, as KKK poison.  Hell, PETA would go ballistic if such vomitous spew were directed at animals. Where is our sense of outrage—as citizens, voters, Americans?

Goodbye to the news-coverage target-practice . . .

The women’s movement and Media Matters wrung an apology from MSNBC’s Chris Matthews for relentless misogynistic comments. But what about NBC’s Tim Russert’s continual sexist asides and his all-white-male panels pontificating on race and gender? Or CNN’s Tony Harris chuckling at “the chromosome thing” while interviewing a woman from The White House Project? And that’s not even mentioning Fox News.

Goodbye to pretending the black community is entirely male and all women are white . . .

Surprise! Women exist in all opinions, pigmentations, ethnicities, abilities, sexual preferences, and ages–not only African American and European American but Latina and Native American, Asian American and Pacific Islanders, Arab American and—hey, every group, because a group wouldn’t be alive if we hadn’t given birth to it. A few non-racist countries may exist–but sexism is everywhere. No matter how many ways a woman breaks free from other oppressions, she remains a female human being in a world still so patriarchal that it’s the “norm.”

So why should all women not be as justly proud of our womanhood and the centuries, even millennia, of struggle that got us this far, as black Americans, women and men, are justly proud of their struggles?

Goodbye to a campaign where he has to pass as white (which whites—especially wealthy ones–adore), while she has to pass as male (which both men and women demanded of her, and then found unforgivable). If she were black or he were female we wouldn’t be having such problems, and I for one would be in heaven. But at present such a candidate wouldn’t stand a chance—even if she shared Condi Rice’s Bush-defending politics.

I was celebrating the pivotal power at last focused on African American women deciding on which of two candidates to bestow their vote–until a number of Hillary-supporting black feminists told me they’re being called “race traitors.”

So goodbye to conversations about this nation’s deepest scar—slavery—which fail to acknowledge that labor- and sexual-slavery exist today in the US and elsewhere on this planet, and the majority of those enslaved are women.

Women have endured sex/race/ethnic/religious hatred, rape and battery, invasion of spirit and flesh,  forced pregnancy;  being the majority of the poor, the illiterate, the disabled, of refugees, caregivers, the HIV/AIDS afflicted, the powerless. We have survived invisibility, ridicule, religious fundamentalisms, polygamy, teargas, forced feedings, jails, asylums, sati, purdah, female genital mutilation, witch burnings, stonings, and attempted gynocides. We have tried reason, persuasion, reassurances, and being extra-qualified, only to learn it never was about qualifications after all. We know that at this historical moment women experience the world differently from men–though not all the same as one another–and can govern differently, from Elizabeth Tudor to Michele Bachelet and Ellen Johnson Sirleaf.

We remember when Shirley Chisholm and Patricia Schroeder ran for this high office and barely got past the gate—they showed too much passion, raised too little cash, were joke fodder. Goodbye to all that. (And goodbye to some feminists so famished for a female president they were even willing to abandon women’s rights  in backing Elizabeth Dole.)

Goodbye, goodbye to . . .

–blaming anything Bill Clinton does on Hillary (even including his womanizing like the Kennedy guys–though unlike them, he got reported on). Let’s get real. If he hadn’t campaigned strongly for her everyone would cluck over what that meant. Enough of Bill and Teddy Kennedy locking their alpha male horns while Hillary pays for it.

–an era when parts of the populace feel so disaffected by politics that a comparative lack of knowledge, experience, and skill is actually seen as attractive, when celebrity-culture mania now infects our elections so that it’s “cooler” to glow with marquee charisma than to understand the vast global complexities of power on a nuclear, wounded planet.

–the notion that it’s fun to elect a handsome, cocky president who feels he can learn on the job, goodbye to George W. Bush and the destruction brought by his inexperience, ignorance, and arrogance.

Goodbye to the accusation that HRC acts “entitled” when she’s worked intensely at everything she’s done—including being a nose-to-the-grindstone, first-rate senator from my state.

Goodbye to her being exploited as a Rorschach test by women who reduce her to a blank screen on which they project their own fears, failures, fantasies.

Goodbye to the phrase “polarizing figure”  to describe someone who embodies the transitions women have made in the last century and are poised to make in this one. It was the women’s movement that quipped, “We are becoming  the men we wanted to marry.” She heard us, and she has.

Goodbye to some women letting history pass by while wringing their hands, because Hillary isn’t as “likeable” as they’ve been warned they must be, or because she didn’t leave him, couldn’t “control” him, kept her family together and raised a smart, sane daughter. (Think of the blame if Chelsea had ever acted in the alcoholic, neurotic manner of the Bush twins!) Goodbye to some women pouting because she didn’t bake cookies or she did, sniping because she learned the rules and then bent or broke them. Grow the hell  up. She is not running for Ms.-perfect-pure-queen-icon of the feminist movement.  She is running to be President of the United States.

Goodbye to the shocking American ignorance of our own and other countries’ history. Margaret Thatcher and Golda Meir rose through party ranks and war, positioning themselves as proto-male leaders. Almost all other female heads of government so far have been related to men of power—granddaughters, daughters, sisters, wives, widows: Gandhi, Bandaranike, Bhutto, Aquino, Chamorro, Wazed, Macapagal-Arroyo, Johnson Sirleaf, Bachelet, Kirchner, and more. Even in our “land of opportunity,” it’s mostly the first pathway “in” permitted to women: Reps. Doris Matsui and Mary Bono and Sala Burton; Sen. Jean Carnahan . . . far too many to list here.

Goodbye to a misrepresented generational divide . . .

Goodbye to the so-called spontaneous “Obama Girl” flaunting her bikini-clad ass online—then confessing Oh yeah it wasn’t her idea after all, some guys got her to do it and dictated the clothes, which she said “made me feel like a dork.”

Goodbye to some young women eager to win male approval by showing they’re not feminists (at least not the kind who actually threaten the status quo), who can’t identify with a woman candidate because she is unafraid of eeueweeeu yucky power, who fear their boyfriends might look at them funny if they say something good about her. Goodbye to women of any age again feeling unworthy, sulking “what if she’s not electable?” or “maybe it’s post-feminism and whoooosh we’re already free.” Let a statement by the magnificent Harriet Tubman stand as reply. When asked how she managed to save hundreds of enslaved African Americans via the Underground Railroad during the Civil War, she replied bitterly, “I could have saved thousands—if only I’d been able to convince them they were slaves.”

I’d rather say a joyful Hello to all the glorious young women who do identify with Hillary, and all the brave, smart men—of all ethnicities and any age–who get that it’s in their self-interest, too. She’s better qualified. (D’uh.) She’s a high-profile candidate with an enormous grasp of foreign- and domestic-policy nuance, dedication to detail, ability to absorb staggering insult and personal pain while retaining dignity, resolve, even humor, and keep on keeping on. (Also, yes, dammit, let’s hear it for her connections and funding and party-building background, too. Obama was awfully glad about those when she raised dough and campaigned for him to get to the Senate in the first place.)

I’d rather look forward to what a good president he might make in eight years, when his vision and spirit are seasoned by practical know-how–and he’ll be all of 54. Meanwhile, goodbye to turning him into a shining knight when actually he’s an astute, smooth pol with speechwriters who’ve worked with the Kennedys’ own speechwriter-courtier Ted Sorenson. If it’s only about ringing rhetoric, let speechwriters run. But isn’t it about getting the policies we want enacted?

And goodbye to the ageism . . .

How dare anyone unilaterally decide when to turn the page on history, papering over real inequities and suffering constituencies in the promise of a feel-good campaign? How dare anyone claim to unify while dividing, or think that to rouse US youth from torpor it’s useful to triage the single largest demographic in this country’s history: the boomer generation–the majority of which is female?

Older woman are the one group that doesn’t grow more conservative with age—and we are the generation of radicals who said “Well-behaved women seldom make history.” Goodbye to going gently into any goodnight any man prescribes for us. We are the women who changed the reality of the United States. And though we never went away, brace yourselves: we’re back!

We are the women who brought this country equal credit, better pay, affirmative action, the concept of a family-focused workplace; the women who established rape-crisis centers and battery shelters, marital-rape and date-rape laws; the women who defended lesbian custody rights, who fought for prison reform, founded the peace and environmental movements; who insisted that medical research include female anatomy, who inspired men to become more nurturing parents, who created women’s studies and Title IX so we all could cheer the WNBA stars and Mia Hamm. We are the women who reclaimed sexuality from violent pornography, who put child care on the national agenda, who transformed demographics, artistic expression, language itself. We are the women who forged a worldwide movement. We are the proud successors of women who, though it took more than 50 years, won us the vote.

We are the women who now comprise the majority of US voters.

Hillary said she found her own voice in New Hampshire. There’s not a woman alive who, if she’s honest, doesn’t recognize what she means. Then HRC got drowned out by campaign experts, Bill, and media’s obsession with All Things Bill.

So listen to her voice:

“For too long, the history of women has been a history of silence. Even today, there are those who are trying to silence our words.

“It is a violation of human rights when babies are denied food, or drowned, or suffocated, or their spines broken, simply because they are born girls. It is a violation of human rights when woman and girls are sold into the slavery of prostitution. It is a violation of human rights when women are doused with gasoline, set on fire and burned to death because their marriage dowries are deemed too small. It is a violation of human rights when individual women are raped in their own communities and when thousands of women are subjected to rape as a tactic or prize of war. It is a violation of human rights when a leading cause of death worldwide along women ages 14 to 44 is the violence they are subjected to in their own homes. It is a violation of human rights when women are denied the right to plan their own families, and that includes being forced to have abortions or being sterilized against their will.

“Women’s rights are human rights. Among those rights are the right to speak freely–and the right to be heard.”

That was Hillary Rodham Clinton defying the US State Department and the Chinese Government at the 1995 UN World Conference on Women in Beijing (the full, stunning speech:
http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/hillaryclintonbeijingspeech.htm).

And this voice, age 22, in “Commencement Remarks of Hillary D. Rodham, President of Wellesley College Government Association, Class of 1969” (full speech:
http://www.wellesley.edu/PublicAffairs/Commencement/1969/053169hillary.html)

“We are, all of us, exploring a world none of us understands. . . . searching for a more immediate, ecstatic, and penetrating mode of living. . . . [for the] integrity, the courage to be whole, living in relation to one another in the full poetry of existence. The struggle for an integrated life existing in an atmosphere of communal trust and respect is one with desperately important political and social consequences. . . . Fear is always with us, but we just don’t have time for it.”

She ended with the commitment “to practice, with all the skill of our being: the art of making possible.”

And for decades, she’s been learning how.

So goodbye to Hillary’s second-guessing herself. The real question is deeper than her re-finding her voice. Can we women find ours? Can we do this for ourselves?  “Our President, Ourselves!”

Time is short and the contest tightening. We need to rise in furious energy–as we did when courageous Anita Hill was so vilely treated in the US Senate, as we did when desperate Rosie Jiminez was butchered by an illegal abortion, as we did and do for women globally who are condemned for trying to break through. We need to win, this time. Goodbye to supporting HRC tepidly, with ambivalent caveats and apologetic smiles. Time to  volunteer, make phone calls, send emails, donate money, argue, rally, march, shout, vote.

Me? I support Hillary Rodham because she’s the best qualified of all candidates running in both parties. I support her because her progressive politics are as strong as her proven ability to withstand what will be a massive right-wing assault in the general election. I support her because she’s refreshingly thoughtful, and I’m bloodied from eight years of a jolly “uniter” with ejaculatory politics. I needn’t agree with her on every point. I agree with the 97 percent of her positions that are identical with Obama’s—and the few where hers are both more practical and to the left of his (like health care). I support her because she’s already smashed the first-lady stereotype and made history as a fine senator, and because I believe she will continue to make history not only as the first US woman president, but as a great US president.

As for the “woman thing”?

Me, I’m voting for Hillary not because she’s a woman—but because I am.





Joaninha & Mandingueira Join Facebook!

3 02 2008

Add Joaninha and join Mandingueira on Facebook! 

Well, I’ve finally done it!  Do you use Facebook?  If so, please support me and this blog (and feel warm and fuzzy in the knowledge of my thousand thanks)!  Here are three ways to do it:

1. Add me as a friend

My account name is “Joaninha de Mandingueira” (“Joaninha of Mandingueira”, bet you didn’t figure that one out :P).  And my wall is still a blank canvas for the first one there…

2. Join my group: “Are you a capoeirista?  Because you just turned my world upside-down!”

Figuring I should “give back” to the community that provided the inspiration for this post, I turned it into a facebook group. 😀  For some reason the group isn’t showing up in search results, so here is the link (hint: click on it and join!): http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=10223806822

3. Become a fan

If you like Mandingueira, check out the blog’s Facebook page (click here) and join to tell the world!  Muito, muito, muito obrigada for this. 🙂

Thank you again, and I hope to see you soon on my wall/in the newsfeed!  Also, don’t forget about the other ways you can contact me, through email (axejoaninha[at]gmail[dot]com), my contact page, or adding me as a friend on Capoeira Espaco, YouTube, or Technorati.  

Joaninha





Top 10 Reasons to Train Capoeira on Zero Hours of Sleep

2 02 2008

Do you have too much to do?  Too many committments to keep?  Are you barely training enough as it is, with still more piling onto your plate?  It’s hard to get enough sleep when you have a million tasks to complete each day, but here are the top ten reasons for why being completely sleep-deprived will not only not disturb your capoeira training, but may actually improve it!

10. You’ll be too sleep-deprived to be bothered by any mistakes or gaffs you make (which is a good thing, since you’ll probably make many).

9. You know that high you get from doing capoeira?  Well, now you can look and feel high as you feel yourself trembling all over while trying to hold a simple ginga stance.

Training capoeira after pulling an all-nighter will make you feel like you're in a different world...8. Face your fears: have you ever wondered how scary it might be to have slow esquiva reflexes while a flying martelo rotado comes at you?  Well, now you get to find out!  (Alternatively, test your reflexes: since you won’t have the mental capacity to esquiva consciously, see how well your body does the work for you!)

7. Crushed fingers, stomped toes, bruised shins—training on no sleep gives you a great opportunity to rack up all those battle wounds you can later brag you got “from training capoeira”!

6. If you’re a regional capoeirista, this will be a good chance to try some angola, as all your movements will naturally be done at the suitable speed.

5. All your partners will thank you for giving them good teaching experience, as they’ll be masters after getting the zombie-formerly-known-as-you to understand the sequences you’re supposed to be working on.

4. That throbbing dizziness in your head is good practice for continuing the game even after you get a real concussion.

3. You won’t give away anything in the roda, as your face will be too tired to make any expressions.  Furthermore, your eyes will be too small or squinted for your opponent to properly look into them and thus “read” your movements. 

2. You’ll be forced to give yourself a good work-out the whole time, since if you stop moving for more than thirty seconds, you will fall asleep.

1. No matter how tired, how sleep-deprived, or how dead you were at the start, by the end of class you will still feel like you’ve just woken up from the best sleep you ever had.

Picture source:
http://file032b.bebo.com/12/large/2007/09/20/11/1623693512a5600839013l.jpg





Excerpt: Salomão Mandou Chamar, a Parable by Mestre Acordeon

1 02 2008

Writing yesterday’s post on feminism and envy reminded me of a story I read in Mestre Acordeon’s Capoeira: A Brazilian Art Form, which was possibly my favourite part of the book.  The story is too long to be all typed out here (it takes up an entire chapter), but I thought I’d excerpt the relevant part for you guys.  It still makes a great and inspiring read, but be sure to read the entire story if you ever get the chance!

 Capoeirista playing berimbau on beach

The near-full moon was spreading a silver mantle and once more the compulsion to hold my berimbau possessed me. Its smooth wood was like a silk bow sliding into my hands. The steel ring was taut and alert like a horse lined up for a race. The gourd was shining in my hands as if its soul needed a human touch to materialize. I felt the texture of its carefully painted surface. One drawing was a roda with many people. Another depicted Mestre Bimba holding his berimbau. The last one was an image of myself sitting on an old tire on a beach playing for the stars. I looked around me and the scenery was identical to the painting on my gourd. The gourd had become the real world and myself a part of the berimbau.

The berimbau’s chant spread to the four corners of the earth like a thick veil keeping all creatures warm and peaceful. The shapes around began to change, the earth was breathing. The land was moving in waves, rippling out from the epicentre of the sound to the limits of my understanding. The whole universe was contracting and expanding in a constant pulse to the cadence of the musical bow. Everything was following a perfect sense of proportion. For a moment I stopped playing and this universal harmony was shattered.

Something moved in the bushes behind me. Everybody felt it, startled out of their dreams. Mestre Pastinha gently placed his finger to his lips requesting silence. The bushes rustled again and I felt goosebumps on my flesh. The contorted demons from the dragon/volcano were about to snatch my soul. They were the blood-sucking capoeiristas, the materialization of the misunderstanding and mistrust among ourselves, the expression of my own fears in all its forms, and they were creatures of the madness of this confused world. Confronting this evil frightened me. I was almost fainting when the student who was my son brandished his berimbau like a sword, clearing the area of the demons with its cutting sound. It was a fierce fight. The demons did not give up easily. For each assault my son defended by playing a richer rhythmical variation. I was useless, completely dead with fatigue. My son was fighting Capoeira for the life of his master and for his own life too. He was sweating, totally concentrated on playing. Daylight came at last and dispersed the devilish creatures. Peace settled on the battlefield.

One of the faceless students cried frantically at my son. “I hate you, I hate you!” Mestre Pastinha asked him, “Why hate your brother? He was brave enough to protect his master against evil.” He answered, “Because I wanted the glory of fighting the demons and he took my place instead.” With these words, his face assumed its real guise and I recognized him as the one nicknamed “Envy.” He could not learn Capoeira well because he would not free himself of the craving to be recognized, always insecure and jealous.

Mestre Pastinha handed me the last day’s drink. Its sweet contents reminded me of the brew mulher barbada. We walked towards the mountains through beautiful forests and meadows with colourful flowers and birds. The scents and beauty of the place kept me going even though I never was so tired in my entire life. I frequently lost sight of the surroundings because I was envisioning another dimension of Capoeira, a spiritual side of the art that broadened my perception. My journey into this realm lasted hundreds of years, through lifetimes of many masters.

Picture source:
http://kulasports.blogspot.com/2007/11/first-capoeira-weekend-2007-gteborg.html





Equality is a Deadly Sin? Feminism as Envy

31 01 2008

Last year, I had to do a presentation on a short story called “Envy” for my Russian Lit class.  It was the perfect opportunity to buy a book in the trendy-looking “Seven Deadly Sins” Oxford series I’d been eyeing up at the bookstore.  I was happily strolling my way through its small, friendly 100-somewhat pages when I came across the following passage:

The modern feminist movement can, I believe, be said to have been built on an impersonal, generalized envy. Women wanted what men seemed to have: freedom of choice in career, in mates, in living with the same irresponsibility (in every field of endeavour) as men. Most women would say, I suspect, that not envy but a strong sense of injustice powered the feminist movement. They would not be wrong, but I would only add that envy and a sense of injustice are not always that easily distinguished, let alone extricated, one from the other. (-Joseph Epstein)

Alright.  First thought: What?! This is wrong!  Second thought: Well…it does kind of make sense.  Hindsight: No, he’s wrong.  And this is why:

When was the last time you felt envious of someone?  (Be honest!)  More importantly, why were you envious of them?  Was it because they had more time to train capoeira than you had, and thus improved more quickly?  Was it because they naturally played the game better than you did?  Was it because they were stronger and more flexible, and floreios came a lot more easily to them?  (If you drew a blank after all of those, insert applicable or non-capoeira example here!)

Envy does not a good capoeirista make!Whether it is skill, money, power, relationships, or circumstances, one thing that nearly all envied objects have in common is either their extraneousness to our current lives, or the large amount of chance involved.  Chance includes things like beauty, talent, intelligence, and personality (“Why did they get to be born <insert envied trait>?  Why wasn’t I?”).  Extraneousness includes things like money, power, promotions, and relationships, and can also be traced back to chance (“I deserve <insert source of envy> just as much as s/he does!  What makes them so great/lucky?”).  If there were neither chance nor extraneousness involved, it would not be true envy, as according to Epstein, inherent in the emotion is a feeling of injustice done—and there is nothing lucky or injust about someone getting promoted over you at work if they have been pulling overtime while you’ve been arriving late for the past three months, for example. 

If you look it up, Dictionary.com defines envy as “a feeling of discontent or covetousness with regard to another’s advantages, success, possessions”.  No one necessarily has a right to natural advantages, extra/better possessions, or chance successes; these are all “privileges” you come across in life, for lack of a better word.  Envy exists precisely because no one necessarily has a right to riches or built muscles or a perfect significant other any more than you do.  That’s why a sense of injustice is inherent in envy.

With that said, why is feminism not envy-based?  At first, it does seem to be: feminists are basically fighting for women to get the same amount of money and power in the world that men get, right?  No, or at least not exactly.  Feminism is about fighting for the opportunity for women who have earned it to achieve the same amount of money and power as men who have earned it, and more than men who haven’t, for equal opportunity.  That, and what Epstein himself says: for freedom of choice. 

Now, the last time I checked, the possession of equal opportunity and freedom of choice were things that were (1) inherent to living as a human being on this earth (it’s called a right) and (2) not controlled by chance (it’s called racism, sexism, homophobia, the glass ceiling, take your pick).   If pure envy originates in the belief that no one necessarily has a right to what is being envied, then how can we envy people for something we all do have a right to?  We can’t; it just doesn’t make sense.   Just because envy involves a sense of injustice doesn’t mean it always works the other way around.  The author may be right in saying the two aren’t always easily distinguished, but not in this case. 

Feminism is not envy, is not based on envy, and for Epstein to relegate the entire feminist movement to such is to drastically demean it, its goals, and its/their importance.  And, to put it bluntly, it’s terrible PR.  I can hear it now… “Ah-hah! <scoff> All that women-are-people equality stuff, and those feminist crankpots have just been bitter greedy little chits all along.”





Just for Fun: Capoeira Pick-up Lines

29 01 2008

(Warning: Use at your own risk.  Mandingueira does not condone the use of nor will be held responsible for any and all events that occur inside or outside the roda as a direct or indirect result of these lines.)

Are you a capoeirista?  Because you just turned my world upside-down.

You must have lots of mandinga, because I’ve fallen under your spell!

That’s too bad that you lost your pandeiro, but if you want you can bang me instead.

If I play you hard enough in the roda, will you go volta ao mundo with me?

Hi, are you an angoleiro/a?  That’s great, ’cause I’m regional—what say we get together and be contemporary?

I’m surprised you have an apelido, because to me you are indescribable!

You know, your abada would be cleaner if you didn’t wear it at all.

If I gave you rasteira would that sweep you off your feet?

Update: I think there may have been some confusion…I haven’t actually heard or read these anywhere.  I made them up, just for fun…in the spirit of “I’m a fermata—hold me” and “I wish I were your derivative…”, etc. …hence the disclaimer!  Sorry about that!