...11... philosophising part eleven... ( 11 out of 18 )...

dear  son  taue…
dear  son  peter…

“part-ten”  was  a  little-bit  out  of  context…
( sometimes…  I  start  digressing  about  other  issues…)

but…   that’s  ok…
life  goes  on…
I’m  going  to  try  to  continue  the  story…
from  the  point  where  we  had  stopped…  ( in  part-nine…)

in  part-nine  we  were  at  arpoador  beach…
at  age  11…
watching….   fascinated…   the  big  novelty…
the  surf…   recently  arrived  in  brasil…
( and…  in  a  certain  way…  in  the  world…)

people…   simply…   astonished…
by  the  invention…  by  the  enchantment…
which  is  to  see  somebody  ride  a  wave…
standing…  on  a  board…  which  in  those  days…
used  to  be  about  three  meters  long…

but…   this  opportunity  to  go  there  at  arpoador…  and…  see  the  surf…
was  a  rare  one…
my  life  was  too  busy  with  the  homework  from  colegio-militar…
and…  it  wasn’t  only  the  homework  that  made  me  so  busy…

in  order  to  displace  myself  daily  from  monday  through  friday…
from  ipanema  to  tijuca…
I  had  to  spend   one  hour  inside  a  bus…
one  hour  which  was  an  eternity…

I  used  to  take  the  bus  at  visconde-de-piraja  avenue…
then  we   had  to  cross  the  entire  copacabana…
passing  through  the  tunel-novo…
going  out  of  the  tunel-novo…  where  today  is  rio-sul…
passing  along  botafogo-beach…
flamengo…
( without  taking  the  aterro-option…
    (which  would  have  made  the  trip  a  lot  faster ))…
then…   lapa…
estacio-de-sa…
getting  into  those  streets  of  rio-comprido...
one  thousand  turns…
an  endless  trip…
a  suffocating  heat…

and…    worst  of  all…
we  were  forced  to  be  dressed  with  a  ridiculous  uniform…
inside  a  super-hot  jacket…
called  “jaqueta”…
with  buttons  all  the  way  to  the  neck…
and…  above  the  last  button…
there  were  still  two  little  hook-and-eye  clasps
which…  theoretically…  had  to  be  attached…

but  nobody  followed  such  a  rule…
because  it  would  be  impossible  to  stand  such  a  heat…
and…   to  make  things  worst…
with  those  little  clasps  suffocating  us  even  more…

before  getting  out  of  the  bus…
finally…  in  tijuca…
after  a  (endless)  trip  of  one  hour…
we  never  forgot  a  fundamental  detail:

to  attach  the  two  hook-and-eye  clasps…
because…  if  a  sergeant  or  an  officer…
did  catch  us  with  those  clasps  unattached…
they  could  be  capable  of  writing  our  names  down…
and…   to  denounce  us…
and…  in  this  case…  the  punishment  would  be  severe:
at  least  two  days  of  detention…
that  is…  we  would  have  to  go  to  school  on  saturday  and  sunday…
from  8  am  to  noon…
and…   stay  there…   doing  nothing…   inside  a  classroom…
as  if  we  were   prisoners…

this  was  the  environment  of  the   “colegio-militar”…

all  this  repression...
resultant  of  a  methodology  based  on  an  excess  of  discipline…
was  reinforced  by  the  requirements  (also  exaggerated )…
demanded  by  the  teachers…
who  instructed  homeworks…   often…   very  hard  and  strenuous…
not  to  mention  the  exams…
the  grades…
the  constant  fear  of  receiving  a  low-grade…
or  being  punished  because  of  a  silly  reason…

in  short…
a  generalized  stress…
a  generalized  fearful  environment…

so…   as  I  arrived  from  recife…   at  age  11…
in  july  1965…
my  life  was  immersed  into  a  huge  environment  of  worries…

I  was  living  in  ipanema…
but  the  surf…
was  still  a  concept  very  far  from  me…
my  life  was  focused  on  being  able  to  survive…
to  such  a  huge  pressure…
imposed  by  the  colegio-militar…

after  a  lot  of  work…
during  the  august-to-december  semester…
I  was  able  to…   finally…   pass  the  final-exams…

the  battle  was  over…
finally…   time  for  a  well-deserved  vacation…

yes…
I  could…   finally…
breathe…
I  could  enjoy  the  peace…  the  tranquility…
which  was  to  live  in  ipanema…
at  prudente-de-moraes  street…
near  arpoador-beach…

in  a  period  of  time…
which  was  still  pleasant…
to  live  in  ipanema…

---   ---   ---

1965…
the  beatles  at  the  top  of  the  hit-parade…
long  hair…
the  acclaimed  and  immortal  “kings”  of  rock  and  pop  music  of  the  sixties…

the  beatles  in  london…
…  touring  in  the  united  states…
the  girls  screaming…
a  generalized  hysteria...

here  in  brasil…   as  in  many  other  parts  of  the  world…
most  of  the  young  people…
influenced  by  the  beatles  and  the  rolling stones…
let  their  hair  to  grow…

the  latest  trend  was  freedom…
sex…  drugs  and…  rock-and-roll…

however…   in  the  previous  year…
in  march  1964…
something  happened  that  marked  the  history  of  brasil…

a  group  of  the  brazilian-military…
supported  by  the  united states…
after  several  secret  meetings…
decided  to  do  a   coup d’état…

they  put  the  tanks  in  the  street  of  the  main  brazilian  cities…
and…   in   a   coordinated  action…
forced  the  president  (joao goulart)…
to  step-down  from  the  presidency…  

and…   the  military  decided  themselves  to  appoint  a  new  president…
another  military  man  called  Marechal  Castelo  Branco…
who  was  granted  the  presidential-powers
without  passing  through  the  normal  process  of  elections…
that  is…   without  being  elected  by  the  people…

thereafter…  the  military…  now  in  power…
began  to  rule  the  country…
the  way  they  wanted…
( or  rather…  the  way  the  united states  wanted…
   since  it  was  the  united states  who  supported  the  brazilian-military…
   on  the  military-coup  of  64…)

they  began  to  use  the  barracks  as  prison-jails…
inside  the  barracks…
there  were  some  little  rooms…
which  were  the  famous  “torture-rooms”…
where  they  tortured  common  citizens…
whose  only  “crime”  was…  for  instance…  to  discord  from  the  government…
or  talk  against  the  government…

that  was  the  terrible  phase  of  the  “military-dictatorship”…

which  lasted  20  years…  in  brasil…
from  1964  to  1984…

if…   on  those  days…    in  1965…  or  66…  or  67   or  68…
( which  were  the  years  where  the  repression  was  the  most  violent  one…)
if…  in  one  of  those  years…
I  would  be  writing  a  letter  like  this  one…  to  you…
( criticizing  the  military  of  those  days…)
and…  if  this  letter  was  intercepted  by  the  secret  agents…
of  the  post-office  of  those  days…
and…   handled  to  the  politic-police  of  those  days…
I  would  probably  be  arrested  and  tortured…
just  because  I  was  writing  a  little  letter  to  my  own  sons…
explaining  what  was  happening  with  the  brazilian  government  of  those  days…
a  letter  which…  clearly…
would  show  that  my  ideas  were  contrary  to  the  government…

this  was  the  environment  on  those  days…

while  the  beatles…   the  rolling-stones…
were  on  the  hit-parades…

the  military  were  “beating-with-batons”…
on  whoever  dared  to  talk  against  the  government…
a  government…  conducted  by  the  military  themselves…

and…  it  was  a  political  situation…
entirely  supported  by   the  united states…

in  short…
here  in  brasil…
whoever  was  in  favor  of  the  military…
all  right…  nothing  would  happen  to  this  person…

but  whoever  was  against  the  military…
in  this  case…  it  would  be  better  to  watch-out…
because  at  any  moment  he (she)  could  be  caught…
and…   tortured…

---   ---   ---

this  environment…
in  a  certain  way…
divided  the  country…
there  were  the  ones  who  were  in  favor  of  the  military…
another  ones  who  were  against  them…
and…  the  great  majority  who  weren’t  neither  “pro”…  nor…  “con”…
they  were  simply  neutral…

but…  in  1965…
I…   at  age  11…
hadn’t  seen  on  the  news  anything  about  tortures…
or  any  other  similar  barbarities  committed  by  certain  military  people…

my  life  was  focused  on  my  super-worries…
on  my  homeworks…  often  super-heavy…

and…  on  the  good  moments…
on  the  blessed  months  of  vacation…
the  happiness  to  be  able  to  enjoy  my  little-beach  at  ipanema…

---   ---   ---

see  you  later…
I  hope  everything  is  going   all-right  there…
take  good  care  of  your  health…

a  huge  hug  to  both  of  you…
with  tenderness…
your  father…
                            …luis antonio…