FROM THE HINTERLAND TO THE CITY

 FROM THE HINTERLAND TO THE CITY

Goodbye, brunette, I'm already going to the backlands

If I don't come back, I'll leave my heart with you

I'm a Punisher, I'm not afraid of anyone

I face everything alone, I'm just afraid of my own good...

(Ted Jones)

Before anyone asks me, Ted Jones is the interpreter of "Balada do Punisher", the theme of a very famous radio soap opera in the nineteen sixties... yes, I am from that decade. Little by little, I'm giving away my age... but let's go back to the song... as I said, "Balada do Justiceiro" was the theme of the soap opera "Juvêncio, o Justiceiro do Sertão", broadcast from Monday to Friday on Rádio Piratininga of São Paulo, before A Voz do Brasil. Why did I decide to talk about this soap opera today? I don't know how to explain it... I think it's because I was thinking about the dynamics of life and, suddenly, in a flash, this melody came to mind, which accompanied me for a long time in my childhood. Yes, those were other times, where the streets were tree-lined and there was almost no asphalt in the city. The main streets were paved with cobblestones. The others were from land, really. Gradually, the streets began to gain asphalt on their roof, which was much more practical... have you seen how smooth and slippery a stone-paved street is on rainy days? Imagine a car trying to climb a cobbled hill on a rainy day?

The city, in that decade, was wooded. The streets, for the most part, were dirt. The walls, when they existed, were low, a child could jump over them without much difficulty. Most of the houses used all kinds of flower plants as a fence... my street was like that. On the border of the land with the street, several Hibiscus trees, of all colors. Aloe vera, hydrangeas, dahlias... even rose bushes were part of this "hedge"... yes, the world was much more colorful. But why did I start talking about Juvêncio's soap opera, really? Ah, yes... I remembered... we were living in a time of transition, when men left the countryside, from cowboy work to factory workers that were beginning to pop up in large centers... yes, until that moment country life was a reality. The farms, at least those I knew in my childhood, created villages within their borders, where the settlers (that was how the workers were called) lived with their families, while they were in the service of that farmer. The street where the workers' houses were located was not far from their workplace. If the farm exploited agriculture, normally the plantation beds were less than an hour away. Employees did not have a fixed salary, they earned by production. The more they produced, the more they earned. Of course, the amount paid wasn't much... but they managed to survive. The fact that they didn't have to pay rent for the house was already a very good help. And the bosses always tried to be close to their peonada, to strengthen the bonds of trust. Many times, boss and employee worked side by side on the plantations. After all, it's the owner's eye that fattens the ox, isn't it? Speaking of cattle, at that time it was still common to transport cattle across roads, with journeys that lasted days until the cattle were delivered to their final destination... whether it was the slaughterhouse or another farm. In the middle of the corral, the hose, where every morning the milkman, the comrade designated by the farmer to take care of the lactating cows, took the cattle and extracted their milk, which had a part distributed among the comrades, but the greater part of the production was for sale... the milkman, normally, was a cowboy already at the end of his career. His professional path went something like this... the boy would start by helping to separate the cattle, distributing salt and sugar cane in the troughs for the cattle. This work was done by the girls, too. The next phase was that of helping the cowboy, when he learned how to handle the cattle. Over time, he became a cowboy, then a cowboy pawn, if he was good enough, he gained the farmer's trust and then became a cowboy, being responsible for driving the cattle and disciplining his entourage. After all, without discipline it would be difficult to drive the cattle for days and days along the roads and rivers... a group used to stay long periods away from the family and normally camped wherever possible... where there was pasture and water for the cattle and a safe place for the cowboys...

At that time, the 1960s, much of rural life was already changing, taking on other airs... modernizing. However, the influence of the countryside was still strong. We were with the industry still taking its first steps, so the connection of the country man, even living in urban centers, was strong. And the way to supply that lack for what he was losing was, without a doubt, his art. Music has always been the amalgam that binds people to their ideas and traditions. And at that time it was very strong. The longing for the "healthy" country life was strong. Of course, nobody used that speech back then. The priority was to survive. But the longing for his homeland was strong. And the way to quench this longing a little was to relive the customs of its not so distant past... violist circles were very common. Anyone who knew how to play a viola and wasn't ashamed to express his voice would surely have an audience to applaud him. Cateretês, cururus, rasqueados, toadas, catiras... musical genres from all over the hinterland were common to hear in these circles, usually washed down with cachaça, another hinterland tradition... and not the guitar... well, the couple of instruments (that's how the singers referred to them) were used in the presentations, no doubt... but the highlight was the viola, the guitar was relegated to supporting, serving only to mark the tempo of the violist's frills with their instrument. There were even (and still are) songs that were played only with the viola... the "viola music", as the name suggests, is an example...

The women mainly participated with their cooking, replicating the dishes they learned in their childhood. But they also had their craft as embroiderers, seamstresses... it's true that the workload entrusted to them didn't leave them much time to dedicate themselves to games, but whenever there was time left, they put into practice what they had learned in the field and passed on to their offspring their stories and customs...

It's 7:15 am on Carnival Friday... yes, tonight the revelry begins. For those who like it, good fun. I will be quiet in my home. The only thing I like about Carnival is the holiday...

Stay with God and may He grant us the most beautiful day that we have ever lived in our lives.