Estimativa - Portal Estimativa

Seven days in Rio by Yaba Badoe

Spending time with Zozimo Bulbul at the cafe outside the Odeon Cinema in the centre of Rio de Janeiro, is a bit like taking part in a Brazilian edition of This is Your Life. Friends old and new: musicians, photographers, actors, journalists, film directors and choreographers, interrupt our conversation to greet him. They tap his shoulder, embrace him, laugh, and when Zozimo draws their attention to me, I realise that the distinguished old man that I’m sitting with, is introducing me to a Who’s Who of creative talent in Rio.
   Zozimo Bulbul is a black Brazilian actor and film director. He is also the curator and inspiration behind the Encontro de Cinema Negro Brasil Africa & Caribe, a meeting of black film makers from Brazil, Africa and the Caribbean. I was lucky enough to be invited to the 5th of these annual meetings, which are organised by workers and volunteers from the Centro Afro Carioca de Cinema. The event is as much a sharing of ideas as it is a festival that celebrates short films, features and documentaries made in Africa and its Diaspora.
   What’s unusual about the gathering is its quirky intimacy. With me to enjoy the tremendous hospitality of our hosts were Rigoberto Lopez, a Cuban director and President of the Travelling Caribbean Film Showcase, Mansour Sora Wade from Senegal, Philip Judith Gozlin from Guadaloupe, Suzanne Sanou Kouroma, a former editor now head of the film market at FESPACO and Mamadou Diop, a young Senegalese director.
   Our recurring refrain throughout our seven days of screenings, seminars and conversations in Rio, was: ‘Where is Mamadou?’ Mamadou missed the bus to the Sunday market past Impanena beach. We left him stranded at the down town Odeon Cinema and went to a restaurant without him. Our young Senegalese colleague was often absent because thanks to friends made on Facebook and his good command of Portuguese, he was usually hanging out with newfound pals, enjoying Rio.
   On this, my first visit to Brazil, I was struck by the incredible wealth and dynamism of the city. Every other building is corseted with scaffolding as the country prepares for the World Cup in 2014. Despite the frenetic building work and restoration of classical 19th century edifices, Rio feels like an enchanted city inhabited by tactile, friendly citizens. So much so, that taking in the view from waterfront restaurants at dusk is like stepping into a gilded world of glamour. As the nightscape of high-rise buildings glitters seductively, it’s easy to believe that all is well beneath the luminous veneer of this powerhouse economy of South America.
   Every tourist knows that it’s impossible to come to grips with a new country in seven days. And in a society as large and racially diverse as Brazil, to attempt to make sense of what’s going on beneath the surface with a mixture of school girl French and broken Spanish, is deeply perplexing.
   Janaina Olivereria, a young Brazilian director and rapper, was one of a group of Brazilian women who helped me to see another side of Rio. Her short film, Virus Africana, was screened at the festival to tumultuous applause from her friends. The film describes her infectious joy at her first visit to Africa as part of a Brazilian delegation to Fespaco in Burkino Faso earlier this year.  Janaina is a member of a women’s NGO, Estimativa, that works with film in Rio’s schools and favella shanty-towns, to improve the self-image of black children. Despite the image projected to the world, Brazil is 52% black. ‘Race is invisible here,’ Janaina explained. ‘It’s everywhere, but no one wants to talk openly about it.’
    The women of Estimativa have put race firmly on the agenda by hosting events that highlight black hair politics. Indeed, after showing me slickly produced magazine programmes on a computer, programmes which stream on line, the sisters from Estimativa invited me to a runway event that they’d organised at Morro do Formiga, a favella in the hills of Rio. ‘Are you happy to use public transport?’ Janaina asked me.
   ‘But of course!’ I replied, half wondering if the sort of public transport she was suggesting was similar to Ghanaian tro-tros, which I haven’t used in years.
   In fact, to get to our destination we travelled on a spanking clean, new metro system that makes the London underground and Paris metro seem antiquated. A long journey by metro, followed by a short taxi ride to the edge of the favella - ‘Taxis often don’t want to bring you here,’ Janaiana warned - ended in a steep climb up a hill in a Volkswagen van. Journey’s end was a community hall full of excited, yelling children. Many of them had their hair braided in brightly coloured wool. Before I arrived they’d paraded up and down the runway displaying their new hairstyles. They started screaming and jumping up and down as I was introduced to them as a guest of honour from Africa. A small girl scrambled on to the stage and gazed up at me. Overwhelmed, I managed to say a few words about how deeply honoured I was to be with them and how much I was enjoying Rio. Nina, another member of Estimativa valiantly braved the screech of the microphone to translate what I said into Portuguese. The children continued screaming and jumping.
    Estimativa is the brain child of Brazilian actress Jana Guinond. Psychologically deflated and extremely frustrated at not getting the sort of roles she wanted, Jana decided that the only way to help herself and other black women made invisible in mainstream Brazilian media, was to create an alternative. With the help of other black media professionals, graphic designers, directors, camera people and editors, Estimativa has so far made three magazine programmes aimed at black women, which are available on line. Their latest venture has received over 4,000 hits. In tandem with creating a presence for black Brazilian women on the internet, Estimativa works with adolescents in schools. The organisation aims to improve self-esteem by teaching school children how to make short films at the same time as raising awareness of the beauty and versatility of black hair in its natural state.
   Like Zozimo Bulbul, who started making films after he grew tired of being cast perpetually as a slave, black women artists in Brazil are cementing relationships with the continent of Africa as a means of reaffirming their African identities. In doing so, they are prising open a valuable space for themselves in their country’s changing consciousness.

Yaba Badoe
December 2011

The 5th Encontro de Cinema Negro Brasil Africa and Caribe took place in Rio de Janeiro from 24th November – 1st December 2011