Jorge Froes, Ronald Augusto and Joao Batista Rodrigues
- Jorge Froes, Ronald Augusto and João Batista Rodrigues
The word “callaloo” is similar to the word “carurú”; both are similar dishes: carurú in Bahia and callaloo in the Caribbean. Please talk about the word “carurú” and its cultural meaning in Brazil.
The name callaloo is interesting, mainly because it reflects an essential sense of language, of poetry, of language charged with meaning. It means, in a word, that we manage to cover various meanings, diverse cultures of nations, specifically, within the analogic universe of black people. When I lived in Salvador, carurú—similar to callaloo—also had these two meanings; the one referring to food, a culinary dish; and the other referring to festivals, the festive, fraternal reunion, anniversary or commemoration of some event that has meaning for a certain group. From there I make the connection between the subtle food of the soul or the spirit, and the physical food of the body. This synthesis is very rich and establishes a relationship of the kind I call the analogic project of black people. I like saying logic-analogic. The similarity of the dialogue between these two meanings—of carurú as cuisine and carurú as festive ritual—is also interesting as far as the expressive register of language and the way this is utilized to express the collective culture and collective sensibility of black people.
I find interesting the sonority that the words of African origin have. In the Caribbean, callaloo has an alimentary meaning; in Brazil, carurú is also alimentation, and food, for the people of African origin, for the people of African heritage, is something sacred.
What is Zumbi’s significance for Afro-Brazilian writers and plastic artists?
In 1995, we commemorate the 300th anniversary of Zumbi’s death. In Brazil, names like Malcolm X, Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King, Jr., perhaps represent more than Zumbi does for the population that has no access to reading materials, since these three men appeared on television. Then, too, Zumbi has no face; there is only a drawing of him. But he has no face. For Afro-Brazilian intellectuals Zumbi is a strong symbol, but in the population as a whole, Zumbi is still a very weak name. First of all, November 20 is not an official date. It was a date selected by the black intelligentsia (it was an idea of Professor Oliveira Silveira) to celebrate Zumbi. But these symbols—Zumbi, Luiza Nahin, José do Patrocínio, Cruz e Souza, Luís Gama—mean something for a small portion of the Afro-Brazilian population. They should be symbols for the whole country, not just for blacks, because Palmares is the first Brazilian republic. But it is barely studied in Brazil. Palmares is so magnificent that it should not be just for the Brazilians; it should be for black people all over the world. [End Page 751]
Zumbi has the same breadth as Malcolm X, Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, Jr., and others of the world’s important black leaders. For the majority of the black population, Zumbi is a name that is still beginning to become known. But we have other, accessible leaders. There is a little-known experience in Brazil similar to what took place at Palmares. A black sailor from Rio Grande do Sul commandeered the Revolta da Chibata [Whip Rebellion] of Rio de Janeiro, because the sailors, the majority of them black, were still being punished with a whip for any mistake. João Cândido rebelled against that and the sailors did something that was an incredible assault: they aimed all the fleet’s fire power at the Brazilian capital; today that would be like a group of blacks aiming a missile at Brasília. I relate more to João Cândido than to Zumbi, but it is evident that we need to revere and try to understand more and more the importance of Zumbi.
Will you talk about African-Brazilian writers as a collectivity and its relation to the white publishing industry in Brazil?
Well, my greatest need is to publish what I write...
