Reflexões de Salvador: Monday, August 11

Dique do Tororó
On Monday, we visited three locations–a central theme of the first two was the Orixa tradition in Brazil.

The first trip was to the Dique do Tororó features statues of various Orixas including Iansã, Nanã, Ogum, Oxalá, Oxossi, Oxum, Xangô, Iemanjá; in addition to, Ewá, Logun-Edé, Ossain, Oxumaré. This lake was a very inspiring site as it represents the inscription of African knowledges on the spatial environment. This was a constant element of being in Salvador–the seemingly ubiquitous visual representations of Africanness, especially as exemplified by the Orixas.

Further, given that they represent divine forces, elements of nature, social archetypes, and ethical values and practices–the various representations of the Orixas serve as a potent reminder of how people conceive of and celebrate the sacred in their day-to-day lives. Further, they illustrate how African spirituality functions as an anchor of personal and collective identity, as well as how the concepts and values that the Orixa exemplify possess enduring relevance and meaning in the lives of millions of people both in Brazil and around the world.

Museu Afro-Brasileiro-UFBA
Our second trip was to the Afro-Brazilian Museum contained exhibits on Afro-Brazilian spiritual traditions. It included clothes, paraphernalia, furniture, and various objects associated with the rituals and traditions of Candomblé. There were also items present from Nigeria, Benin, Senegal, and other parts of Africa that demonstrated the depth of continuity between Africa and Brazil.

A highlight of this museum was a collection of works by two artists depicting the orixas. One was a collection of carvings by artist Manoel Do Bomfim which, aesthetically, brings to mind art from the Edo Kingdom of Benin. The other collection was a piece titled “Mural dos Orixás” by Carybé (born Julio Paride Bernabó). It featured 27 panels displaying Orixás from both Yoruba (Ioruba) and Ewe-Fon (Jeje) traditions. It was visually striking in its interpolation of materials–wood, metal, shells, and so on. Further, its use of color produced highly evocative pieces that conveyed motion and energy, capturing the profound beauty and complexity of Candomblé.

Associação de Capoeira Angola Navio Negreiro (ACANNE)
That night I ventured out to my first Capoeira class, which was at the Associação de Capoeira Angola Navio Negreiro run by Mestre Renê Bitencourt, a student of Mestre Paulo dos Anjos, who was a student of Mestre Canjiquinha.

Mestre Renê teaches Capoeira Angola as a mindful, ancestral practice. He constantly emphasizes the importance of listening and observing–listeninig to the music and observing the other practitioner with whom one is playing. His emphasis on listening is analogous to something that my teacher, Mestre Preto Velho says, “Stay in time of the motion within the space of the jogo.” In this way, Mestre Renê taught the need to stay focused on what was happening in the jogo, while also reacting accordingly to the other Capoeirista’s actions. In the context of class he also talked about safety and being “calma” (calm) during one’s practice, and I would add, throughout one’s life.

In terms of physicality, Mestre Renê’s class demonstrated that Capoeira Angola is not easier than other styles of Capoeira. While it places less emphasis on acrobatic movement, it is no less demanding in terms of the dexterity, agility, balance, and strength that it requires. Thus, the movements were physically and mentally demanding. Also, like all Angola styles, his was a grounded form of Capoeira wherein we spent most of our time on the floor and a good amount of that time inverted. Further, his approach to teaching emphasized the dynamic and interactive corporeality of Capoeira–the dynamic exchange of movement and intention inherent in the jogo, the game of Capoeira.

Lastly, the energy of the class was phenomenal. In the roda, Mestre Renê demonstrated that Capoeira is about warriorhood–about facing the challenges of life and living head on. Also, the atmosphere of the class, the community which pervaded the group was palpable. This also reflects the point that one enters into the practice of Capoeira via physical movement, but movement should not be perceived as the totality of the art. It is a practice focused on preparing one to experience life itself.

Reflexões de Salvador: Friday, August 8, 2025

On Thursday, August 7, 2025, my wife and I arrived in Salvador, Bahia. I went there to study Afro-Brazilian history and culture generally and to augment my knowledge of Capoeira specifically. While I had been to Brazil prior to this trip, this was my first trip to Bahia and my wife’s first trip to Brazil.

Our agenda was, over the next seven days, to visit several museums and cultural sites. Additionally, I hoped to have the opportunity to visit the academies of several mestres to deepen my knowledge of the movement, music, philosophy, and history of Capoeira.

Friday, August 8, 2025

Casa das Histórias de Salvador
Our first museum excursion in Salvador was to the Casa das Histórias de Salvador to see an exhibit on the Malê Revolt. The museum contained exhibits on the history of Salvador, from colonial times to now. Herein, the history of Afro-Brazilians in shaping the city and its culture were indelible.

One of the highlights of the museum was a film on the Orixá tradition, specifically the various religious festivals that take place in Salvador. This film was colorful and celebratory, highlighting the female orixá and their significance to life and community.

The top floor contained the exhibit about the Malê Revolt, a rebellion that was staged in Salvador in 1835, and was initiated, primarily, by muslims who were members of the Hausa ethnic group. In some ways, the exhibit was as much about the history of the revolt as it was a space for artists to reflect on the meaning and symbolism of the revolt itself. Historical events provide ways to examine key cultural themes and ideas, particularly those which are illuminated by the incident itself. To this end, there was a timeline of the revolt, along with other elements about its historical impact, (some of which were shared in other parts of the museum). However, most of the pieces were creative interpretations of Afro-Brazilian resistance and resilience.

There was also some brief discussion about the role of Islam during the revolt. This included references to the use of talismans containing Quranic verses, the use of Arabic script in the rebels’ communications, and so forth.

Overall, the exhibit was a good reminder of the intimate relationship between oppression and revolt–that the former almost always engenders the latter. Further, it demonstrated the ways in which African people sought to adapt their cultural knowledges to resist European domination. Lastly, it expressed the unfinished nature of this and many other struggles focused on the redemption of the African world.

Monumento Arena da Capoeira
As we were riding in an Uber the day before, we happened to notice a very large collection of sculptures situated around a large sphere representing Capoeira. Thus, after visiting the Mercado Modelo on Friday, we paid a visit to this space–which is just across from the market.

Completed in 2024, the Monumento Arena da Capoeira is a large spherical object encircled by statues of eight Capoeira masters: Mestre Besouro, Mestre Bimba, Mestre Caicara, Mestre Canjinquinha, Mestre Gato Preto, Mestre Noronha, Mestre Pastinha, and Mestre Waldemar. At its center is an elevated, circular platform featuring statues of two additional masters, Mestre Aberre and Mestre Totonho, playing Capoeira. It is a beautiful monument and a fitting homage to the legacy of these great teachers.

Being on the path: Meditations on Living and Re-Africanization

I am convinced that when we are on the path, when we are doing the things that we are supposed to be doing, we are consistently presented with reminders of the correctness of the direction in which we are moving. I received three such reminders in the last two days.

Reminder one: Today while working at my wife’s community training farm, a six year old boy asked me, “How do Africans fight?” I found his question intriguing, not only that he asked it of me, but that he posed this question at all. I am not entirely sure why he posed this question to me. Maybe he overheard me talking to his mother about teaching Capoeira at his school years ago, and understood what I was talking about. Maybe he presumed that as an African man I should know something about this. I did start to build on his existing knowledge base of Kiswahili, so maybe he figured that I might know something about fighting too. In any event, I deeply appreciated his question, a question that I did not think to pose until I was a young adult.

I told him that there are different ways that Africans have approached fighting and that I could show him some. I asked him if he wanted to know something related to kicking, punching, or stick-fighting. He said punching, so I showed him something. If he’s serious, I may teach him some basic elements of the arts whenever we see one another in-between farm work.

Reminder two: Similarly, a brother who attends my Capoeira class with his daughter told me that he intends for her to be a fighting arts practitioner, and wants for her focus to be specifically on Capoeira, given that it is an African art. I was intrigued by this. He has studied multiple arts, and sees Capoeira as not merely a matter of technical application, that is the process of fending off violent attackers, but also as a matter of affirming one’s cultural identity. In this way, Capoeira can be understood as a combat art that also embodies the kinesthetic dynamics of several African cultures, thus it is the embodiment of a distinctly African philosophy of movement. It also represents the sprit and tactics of African resistance in the Americas.

Reminder three: A brother who attended the mdw nTr conference in October told me that he had been so inspired, that he intended to teach his then unborn daughter mdw nTr. Today I saw him and his young daughter. He told me, consistent with his earlier statement, that he speaks to her in mdw nTr and proceeded to speak do so. I also spoke to her in mdw nTr. My wife claims that she perked up when she heard the mdw nTr, but I can’t confirm this.

That this would happen the day after African Languages Day was most inspiring for me. While I do study African languages regularly, I have struggled to find time to study of late. However, yesterday my studies were inspired. While riding the train I read about and practiced (silently) two African languages. African Languages Day gave me the opportunity to affirm something that I know I am capable of, using our languages on a regular basis to communicate complex ideas. To my understanding, the greatest challenge that we face is one of transmission, that is of creating new speakers of these languages in our communities in the African Diaspora. Solving this problem is one to which I will continue to devote my time and energy, as we cannot truly communicate about an African worldview if such a discourse is mediated in an alien language and from a culture characterized by fundamental alienation.

Our people once they know that they are an African people, they subsequently want and desire to ground themselves in African things, to understand their reality from the paradigms of their ancestors, to reclaim our languages, to practice our fighting arts, and to—in all areas of life—be African. This is more than just a matter of identity, but is one of solving the paradigmatic problem implicit in liberatory struggles—that is one of decolonzing the minds of the people as a means of enabling them to win the physical struggle which is for land, their lives, and the future.