| Abstrakt: |
This article discusses the growing worldwide popularity of Brazilian culture. Not long ago, mentioning Brazil conjured images of street children or mountains of foreign debt or, at best, a lady in a tutti-frutti hat. For all the world knew, or cared, Brazil was just another big, affable Latin country--Mexico on steroids--tucked away somewhere below the equator. Even some heads of state seemed clueless. "It's nice to be in Bolivia," Ronald Reagan told an audience on his first state visit to Brazil in 1982. His hosts took it sportingly. "The people of Bolivia welcome the president of Canada," read the next day's newspaper. But beyond the gaffes and guffaws was a major hole in the mappamundi of the Western mind.Though the number of foreign tourists to Brazil has increased only modestly in the past several years, Brazilians--or Brazilian culture--now reach nearly every corner of the world. Forget Gisele or Ronaldo, who are well on their way to becoming universal properties. Whether it's the caipirinhas flying off the bar at Sushi Samba in lower Manhattan, samba diva Elza Soares bringing down the house at London's Jazz Cafe, capoeira classes in Toronto or the sun-kissed sylphs dominating catwalks from Milan to Guangzhou--almost anywhere you turn, there's a bit of Brazil in the air. In an oblique way, credit may go to Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, the charismatic peasant's son turned president, who has stood up to protectionism in the rich world by tying up U.S. and European farmers and industrialists in international trade tribunals. Playing Lilliputian to America's unilateral Gulliver also resonates well in a time of post-Iraq-war sensibilities, where many nations feel caught between fundamentalist fury and muscle diplomacy. "The Brazilian style is about holding one's own without being a fanatic," says Roberto DaMatta, Brazil's most respected anthropologist. "That could be a balancing factor in international relations." |
