In Praise of Paulistas

It’s always interesting to go to a country for the very first time and form an impression of how the people there think and feel about their lives. I’ve just come away from a short trip to Sao Paulo in Brazil with a deep respect for the people I met there. I’m not sure I’ve been to any other place where they seem so content with what they have. Not complacent, because they clearly have aspirations to better their lot. But those aspirations don’t get in the way of appreciating what they have today.

Simon works in a stockroom in a cable company. In his own words, a big part of his job is moving boxes around. He wants to save some money and go back to school to learn technical skills so he can move on in his career. I’d have thought that his attitude to his current job would be tolerant at best. Not a bit of it. “I love my job”, he said, and by gosh he meant it. He even makes a point of getting to work half an hour early, even thought it’s a 90 minute commute for him and he needs to change buses twice just to get there. But he still hits his job with gusto everyday. Simon lives in a small house with his parents, who are separated but still live together, and with his sister. It seems like an awkward arrangement, yet they seem to be genuinely happy to be with each other.

34-year-old Alex revealed the secret to us. “The best place in the world is my home”, he told us, “it’s with my family that I remember who I am and I renew myself”. He told us without a trace of bitterness that after a 3-year marriage that ended in divorce he has put all his energy into his businesses. He talked about these businesses with pride, and with excitement for his dreams of making them even bigger. But the point where his face truly lit up was when he told us about his five siblings who live within shouting distance, his niece who has recovered from serious illness, and the joyful chaos when they all got together for Mothers’ Day a few days ago.

I’ve been places where people are content with what they have, and I’ve been places where they are excited about what they will accomplish in the future, and I’ve been places where people talk with passion about how their lives are centered on their families. But it’s only in Brazil that I’ve heard people talk about all three meshed together so perfectly that regardless of their present condition they are full of happiness and hope.

As Sandra told me half an hour before I took a taxi to the airport: “In Brazil we have a saying, it will all be okay in the end. And if it is not okay, that only means that you haven’t yet come to the end.”

I’ve never heard more beautiful words to live by.

The Ancient Home

Here I am, sitting in Johannesburg, and I think to myself "Wow, I really am in Africa!"

The view from the flight was not what I expected. The city looked almost European, with wide, modern highways and several large clusters of townhouses. It was only on the outskirts, in the farmlands, that the sub-tropical Africa of National Geographic was recognizable. Out there it looked as if someone had carelessly daubed a few faint smears of faded green over a dull brown grass-scape.

At the airport the first thing that struck me was how cheerful everyone looked. I have to say, there is nothing quite as beautiful as a smiling African. Their faces seem to glow with a rich inner radiance that I wish I could share.

Joburg was unfortunately just a transit stop for me. So I did not even get to set foot on the soil of the mother continent. I just sat with my nose pressed to the airport window where I could see out beyond the tarmac and the small twin-engined aircraft parked in the outdoor lot behind the main runways.

The land stretched out flat and brown until on the horizon I could just see the hazy outlines of the highveld. And in my mind I could imagine looking beyond the ridged highlands, soaring over mysterious tropical miles, swooping through the Great Rift Valley, all the way to Luxor and Alexandria.

I wish I could have gotten out and headed out into those grasslands of legend. Where Mother Nature and human nature have met each other in their rawest form for millenia.

I'll be back one day. I know I will.

I Want My, I Want My MTV(.com)

This sentence is an act of dissent. It is a thumbs down against a couple of rather sanctimonious geeks in Canada who do not want me to use my computer today. For that matter they want me to eschew the use of any communication device other than two cans and a string. Apparently if I do as they say then I will be more in touch with humanity and with mother nature. As if that would be a good thing.

Where I sit, nature is hot, humid and inhospitable. I know that in about six months I will be on my knees begging for this weather. But right now I'll just bond with my air conditioner, thanks very much. As for humanity, the less said the better. No, scratch that; perhaps something is worth saying. About messieurs Rajekar and Bystrov for instance, the brains (if that is the right word) behind Shutdown Day.

Rajekar and Bystrov are IT professionals. Last year they discovered that they were spending too much time on their computers. So they invented a day on which misfits like them could unplug for 24 hours. As if it was not bad enough that Hallmark has given us Mothers' Day, Fathers' Day, 2nd Cousin Twice-Removed Day and Let's All Read The Newspaper With One Eye Shut Day, we now also have Shutdown Day. A day on which geeks will nail themselves to the inside of a padded cell and go cold turkey for 24 hours without a computer, television, digital thermometer or any other electronic gadget.

The whole idea that technology cuts us off from other people is totally wrong-headed. I'm sure anyone who reads this blog needs no convincing that the Internet helps us maintain relationships and sometimes build new ones. No, it's not the pointlessness of Shutdown Day that irritates me, it's the presumption.

It's the idea that if a couple of people use computers as a way to hide themselves from having to communicate with real people then that must be what everyone else does too. It's the thought that the world needs rescuing from some sort of dark, machine-worshipping slavery to the mighty microchip. It's the whole born-again attitude: now that I have been saved, it is my duty and my right to save you too, whether you like it or not.

Well here's some news for you, M/s Rakjekar and Bystrov. It's not your duty. And it certainly is not your right. Why don't you go ahead and pry yourselves away from your keyboards with a crowbar. I'll just keep on chatting with my friend who lives on the other side of the world. And we'll meet again tomorrow, when you are 24 hours older, and the rest of the world is wiser.