6 years ago a fell in love with a country, a people, a culture, and a rhythm. I first arrived in Brasil as a skeptic. I came to the shores of Fortaleza as a part of a mission partnership team from FPC Atlanta to continue building a strong and desired relationship. But, to be honest, I was so disillusioned by the word "mission" that I was more of a pessimist than an optimist. Until I arrived here. It didn't take long. The mannerisms of the people, the welcoming nature of the people from Ceara, the openness to learn and embrace, the love that exuded from every child and community I encountered. I was hooked. It was just a year later when I encountered Prof Manoel Andrade and PRECE, the educational movement, that would set my life on a different path. I had never seen anything quite as miraculous as it. It was the hope that was revolutionizing not only education but the lives of entire communities and cities. I knew I had to be a part of it.
Since moving to Brasil in 2010 I have seen the best and the worst of Brasil. I have seen families overcome seemingly impossible obstacles. At the same time I have seen mothers leave babies on street corners while they go beg for food. I have seen impoverished communities raise themselves out of illiteracy and lack of education to self- sufficiency. All the while I have seen politicians misuse and abuse their own people. I have seen people of faith and conviction return to their small communities to build a better tomorrow and plant seeds for the next generation. And, in the same breath I have seen despair and lack of hope that cripples millions.
I had gone to the bathroom when I heard screams, glass breaking, and women running back toward the bathroom. At the same time I saw a young man and his friends in panic trading shirts and being pushed back out in to the crowd by the waiters. The waiters were screaming "run, run, run the other direction, but you can't stay here!" I couldn't imagine what had gone wrong, but I knew that the soccer game had just let out. But what had led to this? As I was washing my hands a saw the mob come closer toward the young man and heard the bottles breaking before being pushed back in to the bathroom by a group of women who warned me we needed to stay there.
Once the noise calmed and we re-entered the bar I saw the young man and a friend washing his bloody and beaten back at the sink and police cars on the other side of the bar. Amist the broken bottles I found my friends and my belongings. How had all of this errupted? It was simple. Mob mentality at it's worst. The young man, a fan from the other team, had been scratching cars as he left the stadium. The Ceara fans had seen him and were ready to attack. Not only were they ready to attack but they were prepared to take a life. Granted what he was doing was wrong, but did his crime fit the punishment of death by a mob attack? Absolutely not.
So, how is it that he survived such a terror. My friends told me later that 1 woman. 1 woman only stood up to the mob, grabbed the young man, thew him back toward the bathroom area and warned the mob to leave. The mob stopped when they saw it was a woman. But, what about the waiters that tried to push him out of the bar telling him to run in the other direction so that their bar wasn't destroyed? What about me who was hiding in the bathroom with the rest of the terrified women? What about the rest of the customers whose tables were upturned but ran from the mob instead of helping the boy? What was our role in this disgusting event? How were we responsible for what could have been an untimely death?
Tonight I reflect not only on the worst of Brasil- the mob mentality, the lack of pride and resources that cause a nation to wax and wane with the results of a soccer game, and the injustices that plague all of Brasil and make such an event not only a 1 time catastrophy but a weekly happening- but I reflect on what lies within each of us. I reflect on the spirit of the woman who saved the young man's life as well as the spirit that lies within those of us who fled thinking only of our own well-being. Tonight I remember one of my favorite poems by the wise teacher Thich Nhat Hahn who reminds us that the presence of good and evil of beauty and horror lies within each of us at every moment. Let us always try to live out the beauty.
Don't say that I will depart tomorrow --
even today I am still arriving.
Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.
I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.
I am the mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.
I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.
I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.
I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.
I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay
his "debt of blood" to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.
My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart
can be left open,
the door of compassion.
- Thich Nhat Hahn "Please Call Me By My True Names"
