Precerpt from In with the East Wind: A Mary Poppins KInd of Life - Brazil: Porto Alegre
Porto Alegre holds a special place in my memories. I completed a number of assignments there, including some pretty unique ones that sprang up on the spot, and developed some friendships that not only brought cultural experiences of everyday life that not all visitors get but also have lasted to this day.
Yerba Mate
I remember walking through a park with a friend, drinking
Yerba Mate through a special cup, with a flared shape, and metal spoon with a
hold that served as a joint straw. She would sip, then hand the cup to me, and
then I would sip and hand the cup back. And so on and so forth until the cup
was empty. I can now buy yerba mate locally, but the liquid is only a small
piece of what it means to me to yerba mate. It is not the same without a friend
to share it with up close and personal.
English Center—and Portuguese!
Most of my assignments there had to do with teaching English
and teaching English teachers how to teach English. Although I try to stay in
English with English teachers (often the only chance they get to communicate
with a native speaker), the staff at this particular center, where the teachers
were already talented at speaking and teaching English, loved the fact that I
was developing proficiency in Brazilian Portuguese. They gifted with me with
books I could not get in the US: textbooks and dictionaries for learners of
Portuguese (a step up from that first “textbook” I purchased upon arrival in
Brazil for the first time, Inteligência Emocional, a translation of
Goleman’s work. As an expert language learner, I do not need a textbook to
learn a language, but having the textbooks allowed me to confirm conclusions I
had reached about how the grammar and lexicon worked.
I was almost always assigned a driver on these trips, so I was
not having to deal with local transportation. It was faster, and the driver
knew where I needed to be and when. The center had a choice of a couple
drivers. One did not speak English. That is the one the director, Joao, chose
for me. He told the driver that I spoke fluent Portuguese. Of course, I did
not, but by then I had had some tests by fire (such as my AOL internet account
not working and having to call the helpline—obviously, in Portuguese—and be
walked through the set up in Portuguese; the fact that I got the internet
working was proof to me that I had at least acquired the most necessary level
of proficiency in Portuguese: solving real-life problems).Communicating with
the driver was not only another real-life, high-stakes test but also a
wonderful way to grow my Portuguese proficiency fast. I doubt that Joao
has any idea how grateful I am for that experience.
Porto Alegre Book Fair
Several of the teachers at this center contributed chapters
to my edited book, Passport to the World, a collection of language learning
and teaching strategies. Having authors from Brazil before the days of easy
internet access was a challenge, but worth the effort.
When the book came out, it was selected for representation
at the famous book fair that covers blocks and blocks every November in Porto
Alegre. The Feira do Livro de Porto Alegre has been held every year since 1955
in the Praça da Alfândega and is considered the largest open‑air literary event
in Latin America. That year, 20 authors from abroad were invited to join Brazilian
authors. I was the author selected from the USA. A banquet was held in our
honor when we arrived. Unfortunately, after all these years, I do not remember
who the authors were or what countries they came from. I imagine they do not
remember me, either, but it was definitely a memorable experience.
One of the activities associated with the weeklong fair were
interviews of the foreign authors on TV (among a whole lot of other television
coverage). I was interviewed by a very popular reporter, whose name, of course,
I do not recall. The reporter spoke excellent English. The plan was to ask me
questions in English, then repeat the question and the answer in Portuguese to
the live television audience, followed by a question and answer session with
the audience that the reporter would translate. The interview went swimmingly.
It was of considerable interest the book chapters came from authors from a number
of countries, including those local to Porto Alegre. When the audience session
started, however, everything broke down. Someone would ask a question in
Portuguese, and without waiting for the translation to come, I would simply
answer it. In Portuguese if I could; otherwise in English, which would prompt
the translation. It was like we were lobbing a volleyball back and forth but
more often than note I would not, I would mistakenly grab the ball meant for
the reporter (in Portuguese to be translated by him into English). These
mistakes could have been awkward, but actually they were amusing and created a
warm ambiance. The reporter, a TV show host, asked me to be a guest on his
show. I would have loved to do it, but I was in Porto Alegre that time only for
the week of the fair—my last visit to that lovely place.
During the fair, my book both was on a dais on one of the
central squares. I shared the dais with a Gaúcho author. The Gaúchos of
southern Brazil aren’t an ethnic group so much as a people shaped by a shared
history—the old horsemen of the pampas whose culture blended Portuguese,
Spanish, Indigenous, German, and Italian threads into something unmistakably
their own. They carry themselves with a kind of grounded pride, a love of open
land, chimarrão, and long conversations that feel like they’ve been happening
for generations. Spending time with my fellow author, I realized that being
gaúcho is less about ancestry and more about identity—a regional soulfulness
that you recognize instantly, even if you can’t quite define it.
UFRGS
On one trip to Porto Alegre my assignment was to work with K-12
teachers on a faculty development project. There I met a lifelong friend,
Tanira, with whom I had much in common. We both had earned our PhDs in Russia
during the Cold War, outsiders but accepted in that society, the only members
of our cultures there back then, she in Leningrad and I in Moscow. She taught
Russian at Universidad Federale do Rio Grande do Sul (UFRGS). She proposed that
I come teach with her once I had finished the faculty development assignment,
and so I did. I am a strong proponent of staying in Russian only while teaching
Russian, not resorting to English; in this case, there was no arguing with that
approach! It remains one of my favorite experiences of all time.
In Sum
Recalling all my experiences in Porto Alegre is not
possible. Many have slipped away; the remaining are so many that they would
just become a litany. A few things I learned are perhaps worth sharing.
·
How one crosses streets: Very, very fast.
Running and dodging between cars; not a skill I have or ever developed, I
stayed alive by hanging onto the hand of whatever friend I was with.
·
Why every group at a restaurant had an extra chair:
a group of four would get five chairs—four for the people and one para
bolsas (for purses).
·
What kinds of fun things are given for wedding
gifts: a bag in the shape of panties (with various designs) attached to a
hanger, in which actual panties could be stored; I was given one as a parting
gift—and I have it to this day (some things are timeless and useful in any
culture).
Bottom line: Porto Alegre was the city I spent the most time
in during my five years of association with Brazil and its educational institutions.
That may be why it is so dear to me. Somehow, though, I think it is the people,
the way they shared their culture, work, and play with me, and the insights I gained
into the culture and the comfort I developed with it that has made the lasting
impact on my life. I cannot imagine my life without a Porto Alegre chapter.
Volume 1: ABC Lands
by Dr. Betty Lou Leaver
For more posts about and from this book, click HERE.
For more posts by and about Betty Lou Leaver, click HERE.
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