Considering the fact that I’m writing this reflection paper nearly four months after our group’s trip to Salvador, Bahia, several things really did stand out about the trip and stuck with me throughout my stay here in Brazil. Thad already been in Rio for a month at the time of the trip, so I believe I already had a feel for something to contrast it to. Upon arriving, the scorching heat was the first notable difference. But after a week in Bahia, a different kind of warmth would stand out – that of baianos and our guide Fred in particular. As if regular Brazilians weren’t friendly and open enough, the amiability of baianos was especially evident, as they made sure to make us feel at home at every event or class we attended. The goal of the trip was to introduce us to elements of Afro-Brazilian culture, which is more prominent and evident in Salvador. The two main things that stood out to me about the trip were the vastly different racial and economic composition of Salvador compared to Rio and So Paulo, and the religious tradition that has persisted strongly in Bahia.
When I first arrived in Rio, one of the first things that surprised me was the large population of white people. Rather ignorant of the Brazil’s history and especially the history of its immigration policies, and unaware of racial/ethnic distributions throughout Brazil, I expected the city to be less white than it was. Granted, I was placed in the Zona Sul, the wealthy, elite and white part of town, but it was still something that struck me. In Bahia, however, this was definitely not the case. The vast majority of people in Salvador are black and brown Brazilians, and this is part of what makes their culture and traditions so unique. We learned about the history of the slave trade and the important role that the city played in that historical episode, and how the consequences persist to this day.
Unfortunately, many of the racial disparities and divides also parallel the economic situation. Bahia is notably poorer than the Southeast and Southern regions of Brazil, and this was evident just from being there for a week. I found Salvador to be much more like Bolivia than the United States, something I could not say about Rio or São Paulo. The city was filled with street vendors selling all kinds of food, in particular the traditional acarajé, a sandwich made of shrimp and delicious spices that create a unique sensation with each bite. Open-air markets were also more prominent, as opposed to the abundance of fancy supermarkets common in Rio’s Zona Sul. Bahia’s poverty is reflected in other ways, too. It is the state with the most recipients of the Bolsa Familia per capita, and is also one of the top states benefited by the Minha Casa, Minha Vida program. It is clear that with racism, geographical exclusion, and economic factors evident throughout Brazil’s history, baianos have been somewhat left behind when compared to other, more modern and prosperous regions of Brazil.
What most stood out to me about Salvador, however, was the vitality of the candomblé religious tradition. According to our guide, candomblé has its origins from the peoples of West Africa, and many aspects and beliefs were conserved by black Brazilians after being brought to Brazil. The religion revolves around oriás, spirits who represent the distinct forces of life and nature. They are not gods and are not necessarily associated with good and evil. I specifically remember Fred, our guide, telling us that there is not a supreme orixa, or a god of good, nor is there a devil, since the devil dwells in all of us. Some examples of orixás are Yemanjá, who represents the sea, and Ogun, who represents the earth and fire. Because candomblé seeks to bring people closer to their humanity and in harmony with nature, it has very different goals than that of Christianity. For example, no one in candomblé tries to convert anyone outside of the religion to join, new members are only accepted after expressing a unique and sincere interest in the religion.
The trip to Bahia was definitely a worthwhile and interesting experience, and provided something with which to contrast to the modern imagery of Rio at the time, since I hadn’t had the chance to explore other parts of the city that would have also given me a different experience. The greater racial diversity of Salvador was something that, although common knowledge, stood out nonetheless. It was also interesting to see first-hand a different economic reality than the one we had been presented up until then. But what left the biggest impression, as I have mentioned, was the vitality of candomble, which survived centuries of violence, persecution, and outlaw, and really is a testament to the fortitude of Brazilians who passed down the tradition and permitted it to remain so strong today.
