A gringo in Brazil is made to feel part of the Capoeira community as he takes part in a Capoeira competition in São Paulo.

The air was thick and wet and hung down from the roof like a blanket, while music, percussion, and young voices singing, reverberated around the hall. It was nine in the morning. Inside it must have been one hundred degrees as the sun poured its blessings down on the corrugated tin roof that covered our little gathering. Little? No, not little. Groups had come from all over Sao Paulo to take part, and each group had brought its own collection of singing, dancing and chanting fans.

I sat quietly on my chair in the corner trying to concentrate as I strapped my wrist with an old bandage. What was I doing here? I was the only gringo in this colorful mass of people. My blonde hair and green eyes earned me the nickname, ‘Alemão’ (German), and wherever I went in Sao Paulo, Brazilians would shout out their friendly greeting, “Oi Alemão! Tudo Bem?” (Hi German! How are you?) Now here I was a year and a half after the day I had first arrived in Brazil, and I was about to enter my first competition. I tried not to watch the other athletes as they got ready, somersaulting, handstanding, twisting and flipping, showing their moves to each other. I tried not to think too much. In a short while I would meet them in the ‘Roda’, literally ‘circle’, the traditional meeting place for those who practiced the Brazilian art of Capoeira.

Capoeira is uniquely Brazilian. According to tradition it was created by the African slaves who were brought to Brazil by the Portuguese. Prohibited from fighting amongst themselves, the slaves developed a fighting style that appeared to be a dance. Capoeiristas would glide and float around each other using elaborate movements, rolling, cartwheeling, twisting and falling, always, always to the sinuous rhythmic twang of the Berimbau, an instrument made from the thin branch of a tree, a piece of wire from a nearby fence, and a dry cabaça, a hollow fruit found in the Amazon. To their white owners, the slaves would appear to be singing and dancing, but inside the circle of clapping and chanting spectators, two capoeiristas were honing their fighting skills, preparing for the day when they would rise up and fight against their oppressors.

“Oi Alemão. Tudo bem?”

I looked up. My mestre (capoeira master) stood in front of me. Tio João was a native Baiano who had moved to Sao Paulo with his mestre fifteen years ago. Capoeira was his life. Capoeira had taken him out of the favelas, the slums of Bahia, and given meaning to his life. Now he taught capoeira at a small academy in Sao Paulo where he shared the knowledge passed down from his mestre, and his mestre’s mestre, and the mestres before him.

“Oi Tio. Tudo bem.”

The drum beat, steady four on four, bounced around the hall, deep, hollow, it sprouted from the atabaque and supported the melody coaxed from three gaudy berimbaus and two shimmering tambourines. The crowd was silent now. They waited for the mestre to start his ladainha, his song of praise to capoeira, to his mestre, and to the great capoeiristas of the past. Around me competitors clad in white swayed gently. Letting the rhythm carry them, a few started the ginga, the characteristic movement associated with capoeira. Into this silence strode the opening words of the ladainha;

Bom dia, meus senhores Bom dia, minha senhoras Vamos dar início à festa Que está em cima da hora A voces que aqui estao Um minuto de atençao Vou fazer a minha prece Que eu nao sou nenhum pagao Agredeço o Criador Que me deu inspiraçao Aqueles que me ofender Eu respondo com perdao Educaçao nao tem fronteira É um realidade É o que tudos devem usar Para o bem da humanidade Isto é uma liçao Pra quem quiser aprender Quem nao vive para servir Nao serve para viver Quanto mais vive se aprende Saber nunca é demais Capoeira é no Brasil Quero ver quem joga mais ra, ra, vive meu deus... Desde de pequeniniho Eu ouvia meu pai falar Que quando eu crescesse Ele ia me ensinar Me ensinar a jogar...

Good day, my good sirs Good day, my good ladies Lets start the celebration That is ready to start To you that are here A minute of your attention I will offer up my prayer That I am not a pagan I thank the Creator Who gave me inspiration Those who offend me I respond with pardon Education has no boundaries This is a reality And all should use it For the good of humanity This is a lesson For those who want to learn He who does not live to serve Has no reason to live The more you live, the more you learn You can never know too much Capoeira is from Brazil I want to see who plays the best Since I was a small child I heard my father say That when I grew up He would teach me Teach me to play...