Whenever I can, I try to read a book from the country I’m travelling to before I go. It helps me feel a little bit more connected to the place before even setting foot there. Before my trip to Brazil, I came across Macunaíma at the library. The cover caught my eye with its fantastical imagery, and the blurb on the back sealed the deal:
“Macunaíma magically synthesizes dialect, folklore, anthropology, mythology, flora, fauna, and pop culture to examine Brazilian identity.”
I decided to do some further digging into the life of Mário de Andrade and what I found was fascinating. As a black gay Brazilian, he had struggles many of us could never imagine.
While I was in São Paulo I had two “sightings” of de Andrade. The first was at the Cultural Alberico Rodrigues where an entire wall was covered in portraits and short bios of iconic writers. Among familiar names like Clarice Lispector and Virginia Woolf, I saw de Andrade’s photo for the first time.
The second “sighting” was at the Cemitério da Consolação. Google Maps had tipped me off that he was buried nearby, so I went in search of his grave. I’d hoped for a map of notable interments, but there was none.
Eventually, I found his family crypt using my phone. He was buried with his family members and if he hadn’t been famous perhaps this little plaque wouldn’t have been there, the plaque that acknowledged him as not only a writer but also a poet, professor, and musicologist. The plaque was sadly broken.
Visiting de Andrade’s grave felt like a quiet full-circle moment. It started with a borrowed library book and ending at a São Paulo cemetery. That’s the beauty of travel: it opens space for these unexpected encounters. While in Vancouver I had no idea that I’d eventually stand at de Andrade’s grave, I thought about how books can be portals, not just into other cultures, but also into the lives of those who shaped them. Macunaíma gave me more than insight into Brazil and I’m so grateful I was able to pay homage to de Andrade.
My Soul is in a Hurry by Mario de Andrade
I have counted my years and realized that I have
less time to live than I have lived so far.
I have more past than future.
I feel like this child, that received a box of candies:
After fast indulging the first ones, all the sudden realizing, that there are not so many left, and
Those should be better appreciated and truly enjoyed.
I do not have time for endless gatherings where statutes, rules, processes,
And internal regularities are discussed, knowing, that nothing will be achieved.
I don’t have time anymore to bear absurd people,
Who despite their age have not grown.
I don’t have time anymore to fight the mediocrity.
I don’t want to participate in conversations, where inflated egos are parading.
I can’t stand manipulators and opportunists.
I am annoyed by those envious people, who seek to discredit
the most able, in an attempt to take over their position and seize their talent and success.
My time is too short to discuss headlines.
I’m aiming for the essential, as my soul is in a hurry – not so many candies left.
I like to live with humans, who are very humane.
Humans, who can laugh about their mistakes and are not terribly conceited
About their success.
Humans, who don’t feel prematurely appointed
And humans, who take responsibility.
Humans, who defend human dignity and who are willing
To stand for the truth and uprightness.
It is that, what makes a life worth living.
I want to surround myself with people, who understand, how to touch the hearts of others.
People who have learned through life’s hard punches to grow by tender touches of the soul.
Yes indeed – I’m in a hurry.
I’m in a hurry to live with the intensity only maturity can offer.
I try not to waste any of the sweets, which are still left.
I’m sure, that they will be even more delicious, than those, I already enjoyed.
It is my goal to reach the end – contended. In peace with myself, my loved ones and my
Conscience.