Homage to Brasília

Geoff, Jeff, Jed in front of the congress.

Once again, my posting schedule is staggered and I'm forced to condense two days into one. No big deal though, I'll just post extra pictures to make up for it.

Work consists of me trying to understand what's going on in Brazil and if any of it is important to anybody. One of my daily tasks is to rummage through about 6 newspapers in search of any articles that deal with human rights violations. One of the State Department's missions is to discourage human rights violations through diplomacy. One of Brazil's most pressing issues is violent crime, and police are constantly being pushed to use extreme measures in order quell violence and gather intelligence regarding gang behavior. One of the articles that I came across this week had to do with investigations into the use of torture by police forces.

Back in January, The Economist ran what I thought was an outstanding article on the use of torture. They questioned whether torture is ever justified and presented a situation in which officials were forced to extract some sort of critical time-sensitive information from a suspect; for example, the location of a time bomb. Is it justifiable to use torture in such an instance? They claim that it is not, that the standard for torture needs to be set very high and it needs to be adhered to in order to maintain a standard. Now, I don't remember exactly how they justified their statements, but I see a lot of sense in it.

Instead of trying to really explain myself, I'll just leave it at this: I believe that government has the responsibility to enforce the laws that its society has accepted as appropriate. The enforcement of these laws should be carried out with respect for the individuals that break them, no matter what. I imagine that my society expects our leaders to set a standard for the treatment of other humans that cannot waver. Someone needs to set the standard, someone needs to refuse to stoop, and I believe that our society is capable of setting that example. I also believe that we are generally fairly good at it.

That aside, I really feel for those police in São Paulo. I'm sure they feel helpless. Human rights need to be protected, but it's not always as black-and-white as I made it sound above. However, torturing or carpet-bombing all the offenders will never solve the violent epidemic. The violence is a symptom of other problems that also need to be addressed. But, phew! It's never so simple. Never.

Another human rights issue that Brazil could certainly work on is that of racism. Interestingly, Title I, Article 3 of the Brazilian constitution lists the promotion of "the well-being of all, without prejudice as to origin, race, sex, color, age and any other forms of discrimination" as one of "the fundamental objectives of the Federative Republic of Brazil." Notwithstanding, Brazil is internationally notorious for systematically marginalizing the 44% of its population that is either black or mixed white and black. Aggressive affirmative action programs are constantly being put into place, to the extent of requiring that certain quotas of black actors to be written into television scripts (article).

Anyhow, those are a few things that I've been busy learning.

Swans and congressional reflection.

Work was fine, however it was the eve of a national holiday and it kind of felt like a Friday. That's right, today was Corpus Cristi day and I didn't go to work. As the Friday feeling set in, I got ready for water aerobics! Yet, as I hyped myself up for the workout, I received a very special phone call. About fifteen minutes before the workday came to a close, the phone rang, and a woman at the other end asked for a Mr. Jed Sundwall. It wasn't long before I realized that I was speaking to none other than the marvelous Patricia Naupari.

She's a Peruvian woman that I met in Maturin, Venezuela about 5 years ago. I was a missionary around those parts and I developed a great friendship with her and her family. Her husband is some sort of geologist for Halliburton and she has two great sons. The last time I saw her, I helped her pack up her china as she moved with her family to Maracaibo, Venezuela. I wrote them a letter, but as I didn't have their address, I took the letter to Halliburton's offices in Maturin, hoping that they could forward it. I couldn't get into the building, but the security guard took my letter. I handed it over, figuring that it would never arrive, but oddly enough I received a response from Patricia...three years later when I received a Christmas card and a letter from the Naupari family from Saudi Arabia.

It turns out that Halliburton had decided to transfer the family again, and as Patricia packed up her belongings for the trans-continental shift, someone delivered a letter. As late as it was, it arrived just in time, and we had regained contact as I had left her my Maryland address in the letter. Now, after 5 years, the Naupari family has been transferred for the third time, and now they're in Rio de Janeiro. Well shucks! They're in a hotel now, but I'm hoping that I'll be able to make it down there in time to help her unpack her china when she moves into their new home. Crazy? Yeah! Life is mysterious sometimes. Anyway, we've been in touch via the email, and she had my work number, so she gave me a call. Bless her heart!

Water aerobics worked me. It's a good workout and I think I'm going to sign up for a full month of it. A month of hour-long classes, three times a week for 55 reais ($19). Not bad. I'm training for a marathon in October and I want to take it easy on my legs and focus on my lungs for a while. So, this is good. Also, it might help me develop the lean muscle mass that John Basedow is always talking about.

I wrapped a foam lifting belt around my torso, hooked myself onto a hook on the side of the pool and followed instructions. It was an hour of jogging in place, goose-stepping, rock-climbing, knee-lifting, and other hyphen-related exercises. It was a great way to welcome the evening: sweating in a pool with three middle-aged women and my friend Karen. The ladies flirted with me as the sun sunk into the sky behind the embassy making silhouettes of the mango trees around the pool; vespertine birds flitted in and out of view, the holiday-anxious embassy workers had left quickly and the place was especially silent.

I got a ride home with Karen and her father, changed and went to their place for dinner. From there, it was off to rendezvous with the kids...

Sculpture/pigeon apartment building.

Kids are amazing. I wonder why Catcher in the Rye is so engaging. I wonder why Y Tu Mamá También fascinated me so much, these stories of elite, independent/neglected youth, out of control, wild. On a Wednesday night that felt like a Friday night, I was a fly on the wall at their party. I'll leave out the details, but one of the kids had a driver, we partied in one of the most blingin' houses I've ever been in, the kids had a seemingly limitless supply of alcohol, hip-hop blasted, we had a heated pool (it gets chilly here at night), there was an overwhelmingly positive girl: guy ratio, servants were on hand. It was a fun time, and I'm glad I was able to serve as the lifeguard/designated-driver. Nothing got out of control and everyone was civil despite the apparent material excess and slight beverage excess.

The most interesting phenomenon of the party was the DJ process. A computer was hauled out to the patio and plugged into the stereo. Everyone took turns selecting mp3's from playlists, in fact the only surges of party drama revolved around the music. Kids would interrupt other kids selections, we'd complain about what was being played, the computer would act up. It was amazing; I'm realizing how my peers that are only a few years younger than me have spent their "music-discovering years" listening to mp3's. It's the format of choice, CD's were left out entirely.

I took Geoff's sister home at about 3:00am and left him at the party. I slept at his place, woke up, ate French toast, drove back to my place and fed the dogs (Rosa's out of town for the long weekend). Beth and I then wandered back over to the party place. We picked up the stragglers and drove them home.

I spent my afternoon driving and walking around Brasília with Geoff and Jeff (that has a nice ring to it). We saw the sights up close: the odd buildings, the odd sculptures, the wide roads, the ubiquitous white surfaces, the blue-dyed pools in front of the government buildings. I had a few errands to run and I convinced Geoff to drive us to Extra, a massive Wal-Mart-esque store where I was assaulted by two farmer's daughters on roller-skates. We came back to my place for more leftover Mexican food (it's finished now) and we watched Jet Lee fight himself in the action packed movie, The One. It's felt like a nice condensed weekend. Now, I face a one-day condensed workweek and a full weekend. Awesome! Plus, I get to go to water aerobics again.

music listened to while writing: Todd Chilton's Zeroes and Ones Mix and Heavy Vegetable's Amazing Adventures of...