Viva el Sueno: Brazil, Ecuador & Back

My apologies for the lack of blogging, but things here at La Escola Nacional Florestan Fernandes (ENFF) have been a tad busy.

As most of you know, I´m here in Brazil conducting research on the Landless Workers’ Movement (MST), whilst teaching english at their recently founded and abovementioned University, a brutally nice campus set in the hills outside of São Paolo (a city which, unless you have a burning desire to set eyes upon, and pay U.S. prices for the opportunity to do so, urban sprawl at its most horrendous level, I would not recommend visiting.)

In ant event, after two days in the city I headed here to the University, the instructions from my boss–the political director here at ENFF–being to, “take the bus toward Jacareiri, and tell the driver to let you off in front of a Masterfoods factory.” Yeah, so, five hours, two towns, and a great deal of broken portuguese later, I arrived, a sweaty ball of gringo sweat with backpack in place.

Roughly 60 students–all members (sem-terra) of the MST, hailing from each region of the continent-sized country (some enduring 50, yes 50 hour bus rides)–are currently attending one of two classes, political economy and educational pedagogy. Professors from area universities donate their time and conduct three-day-long sessions in each of the aforementioned subjects. Each morning, after I help conduct an hour long course regarding computer use inter-mixed with english vocabulary, i sit in on said political econ class–quite fascinating, really, bearing witness to a lecture on Marx, delivererd in Portuguese, to members of a bonified (and arguably the most formidable in all of Latin America) social movement. Between class periods, walking to-and-from the dorm buildings (three, two-level light-colored-brick structures, each of which houses approximatley 30 persons in five bunk-bed-style rooms), I interview individuals–asking them why in fact they decided, initially, to become involved in the MST.

In the span of seven days my mind has been blown on numerous occasions by heart-wrenching stories of struggle, as well as uplifting accounts of impassioned believers in the MSTś ideology. Aside from teaching, I´ve leant a helping hand in eveything from washing dishes and dusting bookshelves, to traipsing through town in search of flour to translating Pink Floyd´s ¨Mother,¨from Portuguese into english. Ok, so the lattermost might not have been a solid contribution to the movement, but it was fun as hell–and at that point hilarious–to sit with a 65-year-old woman and take down lyrics from some random web-site.

More to come later …

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