Apologies for the long silence, but it's been a busy last few months. I got an internship, finished my Master's program, graduated, and spent three weeks traveling. Now I'm back in New York, job hunting and freelancing. I'll be back in the next week with new posts. It's going to be a very interesting year for Brazil.
I met one of the group's founders, Raull Santiago, while he was in New York for a Witness panel and the international launch of Cufa. Later, he told me more about the group and its future.
Why was Papo Reto created?
Papo Reto happened naturally and became a collective around March 2014. At the end of 2013, there were really strong rains in Rio de Janeiro. Here in Complexo do Alemão, many homes were destroyed. People in the favela involved in social issues worked together and managed to help families with everything they needed after the disaster. After that, people went back to work. Me and so many others were concerned about social issues and trying to help out in some way. So we saw the potential of working together as a team to help people who lost their homes. Some people continued working together and we became the Papo Reto collective. Papo Reto was born from the idea of the strength we had working together.
What's the role of Whatsapp in the work you do?
The role of "zapzap" and so many other tools and social networks are essential, since it's through them that we communicate in real time, and often in strategic ways about everything happening in the favela. Our Whatsapp groups are popular resistance groups, guerrilla communication, collective protection.
What do you consider Papo Reto's greatest achievement?
We're not seeking achievements, but rather collective advances. We're less than two years old, but through our work we've already put Complexo do Alemão on the map in a real way. We've done this showing the violation of rights as well as showing what's positive in the favela. Our importance is being able to bring the name of Complexo do Alemão to the world and have an impact to be able to transform our reality in a positive way. Achievement means having more and more people learning about us through multimedia, and multiplying this knowledge and potential.
Policeman filming an Alemão protest.
The group has received threats due to your work. What kind of daily risks do you face?
The majority of people in Papo Reto received at least five threats, all of them, unfortunately, from public security agents; in other words, the police. The biggest risks are having false evidence used against us, or being kidnapped by the police, or being shot and killed based on the simple fact that we exposed the violent and wrong ways that public (in)security forces use in the favela.
What are your plans for the group's future?
Continue working with communication. But we don't have a base or headquarters, even a small one, to hold meetings, store equipment, or hold workshops that require certain material, so that's a goal. Our big plan is to multiply the methodologies and techniques we've been learning to show the reality of young people who live in conflict zones, prejudice, racism, and other abuses.
Brazil's political establishment is in crisis as parties grapple for the highest levels of power amid a serious economic downturn. Brasilia is experiencing its own version of "House of Cards," a situation that could potentially have ramifications in Latin America and even globally.
In this real-life drama with new twists seemingly every week, President Dilma Rousseff is trying to stay in office as the opposition pushes for impeachment. The country's first female president stands accused of fiscal irregularities and of possibly receiving campaign donations stemming from a massive corruption scandal within Petrobras, the state-run oil company. While not under investigation herself in the so-called Operation Car Wash, Rousseff was chairwoman of Petrobras during the time the bribery scheme took place.
Rousseff and her vice president at her second inauguration.
Meanwhile, Chamber of Deputies leader Eduardo Cunha is embroiled in the Petrobras scandal, accused of taking millions in bribes, but he has stood his ground and held fast to his seat. He's the person responsible for starting the impeachment process, and also the second in line to take over the presidency if an impeachment took place. The government may be trying to make a deal with him to allow him to stay if he agrees not to push for impeachment. Last week, Rousseff characterized the opposition's actions as "coup" attempts, and found herself defending her legitimacy on live TV.
The crisis hasn't come out of nowhere. The Petrobras scandal broke in 2014 and the investigation has expanding ever since. Last year, the president won reelection in one of the closest elections in recent Brazilian history, capping off an extraordinarily divisive campaign season that saw not only over-the-top rhetoric from candidates and party faithful but also sparked bitter arguments among ordinary Brazilians. On the campaign trail, one of the top presidential contenders - and one seen as a moderating voice - died in a freak plane crash.
Congressional leaders Cunha and Calheiros, both accused of corruption.
As she loses ground even within her own party, Rousseff is hoping to keep her coalition intact - not only to prevent an impeachment, but also to push through austerity measures as the government faces a sinking economy. This month, she rearranged her cabinet, giving more power to the centrist PMDB party that's holding the coalition together. The vice president, Michel Temer, belongs to the PMDB, and he has reportedly already begun distancing himself from Rousseff. He would be first in line to take over if an impeachment took place.
Public opinion isn't on Rousseff's side. She's seen record, single-digit approval ratings, and a July poll found that more than 60 percent of Brazilians support impeaching the president. Several large anti-government demonstrations took place this year.
The country is suffering a recession, with inflation and unemployment rising. Now the government is pushing for budget cuts and tax increases, all as the political crisis heats up. The latest is that a Supreme Court injunction is blocking a lower house impeachment vote, but the fight isn't over. Impeachment is not an impossible outcome: the last Brazilian presidential impeachment took place in the early 1990s.
Aside from credit rating downgrades, the perfect storm of the political and economic crises threaten more than Brazil's international reputation. With the largest economy and democracy in Latin America, Brazil has been a beacon of stability in the region and in the developing world. The country has also become even more connected to the global economy, with growing trade and investment ties not just among the BRICS but also to the U.S. and Europe. Political upheaval could have consequences beyond Brazil's borders.
With Rousseff fighting for her job and struggling to get anything substantial through Congress, there's been a flurry of activity among those jockeying for power. The PMDB recently released this incredibly tone-deaf, 10-minute ad positioning itself as an alternative to Rousseff. (The video features Vice President Temer, but also stars politicians like Cunha and Senate President Renan Calheiros, both accused of corruption.)
Plus, former President Lula has hinted he may run for a third term in 2018. Lula, who enjoyed popularity throughout his two terms, hand-picked Rousseff as his successor, and sometimes acts as an unofficial adviser. The crisis could actually be good for him - letting the dust settle before he sweeps in to pick up the pieces.
But at the moment, it's unclear if there's anyone in line for Rousseff's job seriously interested in the business of governing, and impeachment could further drag down the country's political progress and economy. This TV-worthy drama isn't over yet, and the next few months could be decisive in determining Rousseff's - and Brazil's - fate.
Netflix's "Narcos" has a lot of people talking. Starring the magnificent Brazilian actor Wagner Moura and co-produced and partially directed by Brazilian José Padilha, the show focuses on Colombia but carries an indelible Brazilian imprint. There have been a variety of complaints about the show, but I think it's a great watch and an important jumping-off point for shows and movies about Latin America for a global audience. Here's why.
5. Almost half of it is in Spanish - even if the accents are off.
There's been a lot of complaining about Moura's Brazilian accent in Spanish, and the potpourri of other accents among the Spanish-speaking cast. But the fact that it's in Spanish at all is a huge improvement over many U.S. productions where the cast speaks English, even though they're supposed to be Russian or French or Mexican. There's been hesitation to thrust subtitles on American audiences, but since Netflix is betting on global viewers, it took the risk, and I think it paid off well. I understand how annoying the accent issue must be for Colombians, but a lot of viewers likely didn't notice, especially because Moura is so great (and terrifying).
4. Its docudrama format uses a huge amount of actual events and people, including layers of historic footage.
One of the complaints about the show relates to the mentions of magical realism. I get that it's clichéd, but I think it drives at the idea that truth is often stranger than fiction, and it's in this realm that Padilha - who directed the documentary Bus 174 and the Elite Squad docudramas - thrives. Moral relativism, the blurred line between good and evil, and the intersection of violence and power are all very much part of his wheelhouse, and they're what make "Narcos" so compelling. Padilha favors this format because he seems invested in educating audiences in addition to entertaining them.
For those interested in learning more about Colombia during Escobar's height, The Two Escobars and Sins of My Father are highly recommended.
3. "Narcos" addresses American intervention in Latin America in an interesting and nuanced way, andit reminds us that the drug war is truly global.
It's rare to see a blockbuster TV show or movie address American interventionism in Latin America well. One of the best things about "Narcos" is not only using historical facts, but ensuring that the Americans in the story aren't seen as the heroes, sweeping in to aid the "helpless" locals. (This is likely because of the amount of Latin Americans involved in producing and directing the series, another important factor to point out.) Not only do we learn about U.S. involvement in Colombia's drug war, but we also learn about U.S. support of Pinochet in Chile, as well as very relevant issues of torture and surveillance.
While the show focuses on Colombia, viewers get a glimpse of how the cocaine trade expanded its global reach. After the show came out, I found out that a man in the neighborhood where I grew up was jailed for running an airline ferrying cocaine from Colombia to the U.S.
2. It drives home the idea that what happened to Colombia could happen in other Latin American countries.
Colombia is uniquely geographically positioned for the cocaine trade to have flourished there: neighboring coca-growing countries, having a climate where coca could grow, and being relatively close to the U.S., among other factors.
But the show's highlight of the fact that Chile was initially a cocaine-trafficking hotspot is a relevant one. Drug trafficking and its funding of organized crime has affected all Latin American countries, and while Colombia is still a major player, ground zero of drug trafficking in the Americas has moved to Mexico and Central America. Watching the show, I can easily imagine spin-offs series in other Latin American countries, even Brazil. Padilha himself reportedly left his home in Rio de Janeiro and moved to Los Angeles after getting fed up with armed violence.
1. The series illustrates what Colombians endured and continue to endure in their daily lives and in forming a national identity.
Colombians are the heroes in this series: not only the leaders who stood up to the traffickers but also the regular people who dealt with the consequences of the drug war. To me, that's one of the strongest elements of the show and one that transcends Hollywood stereotypes.
I think it also helps global audiences understand why the drug war has affected Colombians' view of themselves and the shame and trauma they feel having lived through the worst of the violence. It's hard to be a Colombian abroad because of the stigma attached to the drug war, meaning Colombians have faced more stringent visa requirements and humiliations when crossing borders. There's a powerful moment in the series featuring presidential candidate Luis Carlos Galán and part of a real speech he gave:
"We're changing the Colombian people's consciousness...so that never again will any Colombian feel ashamed when he shows his country's passport."
The show focuses on some of Colombia's worst historical moments, but it provides so much historical context that it really helps people understand what the country went through and the incredible corrupting power of drug money. It really makes one think: what if this had been your country?
Between the political crisis and an economic downturn, Brazil is going through a rough patch. It's easy to forget that the gears of change are slowly and quietly continuing to grind away. The film "The Second Mother," or "Que Horas Ela Volta?" (What Time Does She Get Home?) helps remind audiences of this important reality that Brazil is changing for the better, and may not always be held hostage to its history.
The film - this year's Academy Awards submission from Brazil - follows Val, a live-in maid from the Northeast working for a wealthy family in São Paulo. It's "Neighboring Sounds" meets "The Help," though I suspect with a black protagonist, it would have been an entirely different movie altogether. The movie is out now in Brazilian theaters and is showing in a limited release in the United States.
Regina Casé plays Val, and she's perfect. Having honed her comedic skills over decades and dedicated part of her career to spotlighting Brazil's poor and working classes, she truly incarnates the role and beautifully depicts a position that has evolved as a remnant of slavery.
While this is a very Brazilian story, it's also a fundamentally Latin American story. It brings to mind women who leave their children in another region or in a whole other country, from Paraguayan domestics in Argentina to Central American maids in the United States. Brazilians and anyone who has spent significant time in Brazil likely knows a Val, and will recognize her mannerisms and personality in Casé's character.
Directed by a woman, Anna Muylaert, the movie also touches on universal issues like motherhood, feminism, the generation gap, and social class divisions. It's this last piece - the deep social divide and the daily indignities Val faces - that are so uncomfortable to witness that I was squirming in my seat.
Expertly filmed, the movie makes the audience feel like it's in Val's shoes, with narrow shots of hallways and doorways, giving one a very keen sense of both the physical and social boundaries within a single home. It's only when Val's daughter, Jéssica, shows up, that we see the realm the family lives in, rather than the confines of the kitchen or the claustrophobic bedroom where Val sleeps. Jéssica refuses to abide by the unspoken rules, taking up in the guest room, eating in the dining room, and most controversially, swimming in the pool.
"A person is born knowing her position," Val scolds her daughter. "When they offer you something of theirs, they're being polite. They know we'll say no."
Jéssica represents a new generation of Brazilians and the new middle class, breaking boundaries (literally), getting a higher education, and flouting norms and expectations for what a person of little means can do with her life.
Still, the treatment that Bárbara, the woman of the house, gives Val and her daughter, seem unfortunately realistic. "You're nearly family!" Bárbara tells Val at one point, sandwiched between growing humiliations to which she subjects her. The Twitter account A Minha Empregada (My Maid) reveals precisely these types of views and treatment of maids.
A porra da empregada ta passando aspirador no corredor e me acordou
What the film hints at but ultimately doesn't show is that the landscape for domestic work in Brazil is changing dramatically.
Brazil has close to 7 million domestic workers, more than any country in the world. But the rules of the game changed in 2013, when a constitutional amendment passed that gave a host of rights to domestic workers, including a minimum wage, a maximum number of working hours, overtime, lunch breaks, and social security. Plus, in recent years, some women have been leaving the profession to get an education or change careers. With salaries rising, it's no longer as common that maids live with families, as women opt to commute. And because workers are more expensive to hire, some families no longer have full-time maids. And in São Paulo, some upper-class homes are no longer built with maid's quarters.
Still, it's precisely this hope for change that makes the movie work, ending with a sense of redemption.
At one point in the film, Jéssica announces her plan to go to university to study architecture at one of the best schools in the country. Bárabara lifts an eyebrow and in a voice dripping with condescension and a hint of resentment, says: "See? Our country really is changing."
In Brazil, the instant messaging app Whatsapp reigns supreme, with an estimated 45 million users. It's been a game-changer in making personal communication cheaper and easier, as well as affecting how politics and journalism work. Just this past weekend, major newspapers like Estado de São Paulo and Folha de São Paulo used Whatsapp to crowdsource the anti-government protests taking place across the country.
But because of the speed and popularity of the app, it has been used to spread false information and even abet violent crime.
***
In June, a rumor began circulating on Whatsapp that President Dilma Rousseff had tried to kill herself. (See image on the left) The information was wholly untrue, but the president took it upon herself to address the rumor publicly. "I just came to speak to you all today because they said a little while ago that there was a rumor going around that I was hospitalized," she said to the press. "Do you all think that I was?"
Anti-government protests have been largely organized through social media, including Whatsapp. But the reasoning behind the pro-impeachment movement have not always been legitimate, legal reasons for backing an actual removal of a president. In some cases complaints have to do with the economic crisis, like rising gas and electricity prices and government spending. (See below)
Plus, Whatsapp has been used by police as a way to allegedly plan revenge killings, including massacres in the past year in Belém, Manaus, and last week in São Paulo. Police have used the app to share addresses of suspects and photos of victims. Brazilian security publication Ponte described Whatsapp as "adding fuel to the fire" of revenge killings by police. Whatsapp use by São Paulo police as a parallel system of communication for organizing reprisals was well documented by Vice Brazil in April, and is worth a read for those with a strong stomach.
***
The app has also been used by police and drug traffickers alike in Rio. Although I was unable to confirm their veracity, since those who showed me the messages were afraid to try to trace them, I heard three voice memos sent over Whatsapp in recent weeks that, real or not, help spread a sense of fear about the city's security. The first was from an alleged policeman involved in the capture and killing of the notorious drug trafficker Playboy this month in Rio. In the audio, he describes the action and chuckles as he describes Playboy alive on the way to the hospital and then arriving there dead. Record News also reported this audio circulating but could not confirm its veracity.
Another message came from an alleged drug trafficker saying there would be attacks in the city to avenge Playboy's death. Apparently there were a slew of these types of messages circulating on Whatsapp, enough for the police to investigate and try to trace them. Another audio clip I heard came from an alleged Rio policeman also talking about the aftermath of Playboy's death.
***
That said, there's a lot of interesting and constructive ways Brazilians are using Whatsapp. And even the police have used the app to fightcrime rather than commit it. But it's something to keep an eye on as social media becomes more ubiquitous in daily life in Brazil.
Juliana Barbassa is a person I've known through the grapevine for years since she arrived in Rio as the Associated Press correspondent. I didn't meet her in person until two years ago, when I was in Rio at the tail end of the massive street protests. I was fascinated by her trajectory and her unique eye for reporting in Brazil.
Barbassa was born in Brazil, but grew up all over the world because of her dad's oil company job, living not only in Rio but also in Iraq, Malta, Libya, Spain, France, and the United States. She went to UT Austin for undergrad and to UC Berkeley for graduate school. She joined the AP in 2003, and became the AP Rio correspondent in 2010.
Back in 2013, Barbassa was kind enough to invite me over to her beautiful home in Flamengo, where I also met her dad and now-husband Christopher Gaffney, every Rio journalist's favorite curmudgeon and one of the top experts on global mega-events. We talked about the protests and the World Cup and Barbassa's career and what it was like to go from writing for a wire service to writing her first book. We also talked about her experience going to grad school for journalism, which in retrospect I credit her for inspiring me to do.
That meeting confirmed what I suspected: that Barbassa is someone special when it comes to understanding Brazil and being able to translate its cultural idiosyncrasies. She's able to capture the nuances of a native while also providing the perspective of an outsider.
And now, finally, you can see the result of Barbassa's hard work with her new book, coming out July 28. (Pre-order your copy of the book here.) Below, see my impressions of the book, my Q&A with the author, and when you can meet Barbassa during her book tour.
My Thoughts on the Book
Called Dancing with the Devil in the City of God: Rio de Janeiro on the Brink, the book explores what's been happening in Rio over the last few years in a way that I really think has never been captured as well as she does. The reporting is incredibly deep and thorough, from poring through documents to an exhausting number of hours spent in the field.
Overall, the book is exquisitely written, a blend of a memoir and some of the best reporting you will find on Rio de Janeiro. Some parts are heart-wrenching (see the chapter on the mudslides), and some parts are laugh-out-loud funny (don't miss the anecdote about the Mexican entrepreneur and how he got his Brazilian visa.)
Not only does she get into the nitty gritty of security, gentrification, evictions, environmental degradation, and mega-event preparation, but she digs deep into the history of Rio's ongoing conflict. She revealed things that were new even to me, including a Rio policy that helped drive killings by police.This book should be required reading for any journalist who plans on covering the 2016 Olympics.
And instead of devoting a whole chapter to 500 years of Brazilian history, as is common in English-language non-fiction books about Brazil, she elegantly weaves historical facts into the narrative about what's happening now. And when she explores historical sites few people even know about it, you feel like you're there with her.
Barbassa combines the reporting with her own story of living in Brazil and around the world, making it an even more intriguing read. (Warning: if you have ever lived in Brazil, her chapter on trying to find an apartment may give you PTSD flashbacks.)
And even though during her time in Rio she went from being single to getting married, her relationship isn't part of the book. For this I really admire her, since this is usually a big part of female-written memoir-style books. It's clear that her time in Rio was a personal journey about coming to terms with her birthplace.
Barbassa and Gaffney are now living in Switzerland, but Barbassa is heading to the U.S. for a book tour this month. Meet Barbassa and get a signed copy of the book on the following dates:
What was the most surprising thing you learned while researching the book?
I was taken back by the early history of the Comando Vermelho. When I first became aware of the gang in the late 1980s, they were already a powerful, violent entity making headlines with boastful interviews, a cinematic prison escape, or bloody confrontations with police. But they had that motto, Peace, Justice and Liberty. It seemed incongruent.
Reading about the gang’s early days in the Ilha Grande prison from books like “Quatrocentos Contra Um” or Carlos Amorim’s “Comando Vermelho” made me curious about the environment that shaped these men and their aspirations. I sought out those who were there or remember that time, like the Professor, dug for old news clippings, and finally, searched what’s left of the uncategorized prison archives, trying to understand who they were, how they lived, what influenced their thinking.
In particular, I spent hours going through daily prison logs, fascinated by the the minutia of everyday life in this terrible place - who fought with whom, which prisoners were punished for smoking marijuana, gambling, fighting, what there was to eat, what each man brought with him when he came in, who got visits. Much of it was mundane and unvarying, but the accumulation of details made them, their needs, their cells more real.
I enjoyed most the occasional finds that came from from the hands of the prisoners themselves -- a crude playing card made from the page of an encyclopedia, part of a seized deck, that was stuck inside one of the thick log books; the letters from inmates to those on the outside. The best examples of those were in the little museum that now exists on the site of the demolished prison: they have missives written by gang members on the inside asking their ‘brothers’ for some help with the prisoners’ Christmas celebration. These things were reminders of a time when the Comando Vermelho was an entirely different creature.
Was there a part that got cut that you especially liked?
Of course! There were long sections cut out to streamline the story. Within them were characters who deserved whole chapters to themselves -- in another book. One of my favorites was the section about Flávia Froes, an attorney whose list of clients reads like a who’s-who of Rio’s drug traffic dating back to the 1990s. She dredges up references to class warfare to frame the conflict between the state and gang members convicted in horrific murders.
But she’s not a lefty, bleeding heart sort; she’s tough, and she plays her over-the-top Carioca sexy to the hilt. The first time we met she was picking her way around crack users in trash-strewn alleys wearing six-inch stiletto heels, rhinestone studded jeans and a corset, her long blond hair swaying down to the middle of her back. But when we made our way to the heavily-armed dealers standing guard over tables stacked with baggies of crack, they respected her: it was all, “yes, ma’am,” “no, ma’am.” What makes her interesting as a person, and as a character, is that you’re left wondering how far she would be willing to go -- how far she has gone -- for her clients.
During the days of chaos that preceded the take-over of the Complexo do Alemão, when someone was carrying orders from imprisoned gang leaders to their soldiers on the outside, a judge ordered her arrest. Forty officers and a helicopter were sent out, but she got wind of it and went on the lam without a computer or a cell phone, untraceable. Later the charges were dropped for lack of proof, and Flavia was back, jaunty as ever, but there are many who never got over their doubts.
How did the book-writing experience compare to your work with the AP?
Daily news has specific requirements -- you work under deadline, keep your articles short and to the point. That’s the nature of news. It often meant having to do grab-and-run interviews, leaving before the conversation got really interesting; other times it simply meant leaving much of the nuance out of the final article.
My motivations for writing this book were many, but at the core was a desire for more time to report and more space to write. This came, in part, from my relationship to Rio. I wanted to bring the city to readers, but I also wanted to get into it myself, really get into it. Covering the city as a correspondent gave me breadth of experiences; reporting the book allowed me to return to the same person or place and see various layers. It gave me depth.
What do you miss most about living in Rio?
Living with my windows wide open all the time, except when it stormed. But then I miss the spectacle of those extravagant summer downpours. Friends and family, of course, particularly my nieces and nephews. The açaí from Tacacá do Norte in Flamengo. All the fruit. And the fresh fruit juice. The sweet man with the white handlebar mustache who sold vegetables at the farmers’ market in front of my building, and greeted me with a hug and a kiss every week. Running on the sand. The weather. I even miss the heat!
If you could write another book, what would it be?