Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Another death
As you know, the last weeks have been a period of contact with death, in various forms. The frequency of death in dramatic or tragic circumstances is certainly higher here than in the UK. Between childhood cancer, adult male suicide and road accident, you have three of the saddest elements of life in Brazil or in any country.
There is one more. Yesterday in class, Jacina and her sister Mayá were once again in shock. They have recently moved house – onto the island, and away from the neighbourhood where they grew up. The boy next door to where they used to live – at 15 just four years younger than Mayá – was murdered on Sunday. The girls have known him all his life. He and others from his family were constantly in their home, especially when the grandmother who looked after them beat them.
Jacina (centre) and Mayá (right) with their little sister Jasmin. Jacina's teeshirt reads: Drugs, not dead: Partnership against drugs
The lad, Tito, was involved in drug trafficking. He had been involved by his parents, from early childhood. Kids who carry and deliver drugs are called “aviãozinhos” – little aeroplanes. This is what his mum and dad got him to do.
Later on he became involved in other aspects of drug dealing. He killed several people. And it was presumably for that that he was shot with an expanding bullet on Sunday afternoon.
He was playing with a kite. A fifteen year-old murderer and drug dealer is still a kid – and in some ways more of a kid than a British teenager of the same age. Some guys came by, by car and on a bicycle, shooting before making a rapid getaway. As the boy fled one bullet took him in the lower back, bursting out of his stomach. He ran down the hill, clutching his kite to his body. He collapsed near his house and died soon afterwards. His friend was also wounded, his arm smashed by a bullet. Jacina and her family heard while in church at First Baptist, and went straight to the home, to try to bring some word of comfort. The grandmother has been saying for years that the sooner he dies the better. She didn’t feel that way on Sunday night.
The reason that he was cared for by his grandmother is that his parents split up a long time ago, and his mother is currently in prison anyway. While inside she has been converted. She has expressed a wish to move state with her kids and try to start afresh, to rebuild a life without drug trafficking. She has two months of her sentence to run. For this son, it was too late.
I tell the story in its details and social ramifications because it is very typical of one side of life here, which we don’t often mention, but with which many of our colleagues have a much closer and constant acquaintance. Sometimes people have the impression that Florianópolis is a trouble-free backwater. Compared to Rio, São Paulo, Vitória, Recife or even Foz de Iguaçu, Floripa is quiet, yes. But it is not trouble-free, and every year things worsen. One of my ex-students, Roberto Chenk, is pastoring a church in Palhoça, the third municipality that makes up “Greater Florianópolis”. Roberto is very involved with youth work, being one of the most respected Scout leaders in the city. He told me that of a group of 22 teenage lads with which he was recently working, 7 died in a 2 year period. For several it was road death, but for most it was murder.
They say that one in four Brazilian teenagers has seen the body of someone shot dead. Mayá tells me that, though she did not see this lad's body, she has seen two people shot, one right in front of her house. All members of the girls' family have been threatened with guns. We know several other families who have lost close relatives to the gun while we have been here.
Of course, it isn't only the criminals who kill. Or, to put it another way, it is not only the criminals who are criminal. A close friend of ours has been involved in helping a man with anger management. He is a policeman. He has got into rages, from time to time, and has gone into the favela and shot and killed people. This is viewed as a bad thing, so he has been invalided out of the force for the moment for counselling.
Sometimes people react to all this with hardness. Sometimes with humour, that borders on hysteria. Having commented on funerals and the initial moments of bereavement, it is worth saying that the way of handling grief in the medium to long term is also very different from Britain. If Brazilians pour out emotion in violently physical displays at a funeral, they are also far more likely than Brits to say, "I'm fine" one week later. This seems hard, but it is probably also practical. The hurt is poured out in catharsis, and then has to be buried fast, because life must go on. There is not much time or space here to coddle your wounds.
Brazil isn’t all murder and mayhem. But there is enough, more than enough, to justify specific prayer for the situation, and especially for those workers from churches and missions who are doing all they can to help those most likely to get involved with the drug gangs to lead useful lives, and above all to know Christ. Jacina and Mayá, and others in our classes, are involved in the Lazarus Project, an initiative from First Baptist to reach out to the very poor, those in danger of getting involved in drug gangs, and those already going in that direction. Please pray for them.
As you know, the last weeks have been a period of contact with death, in various forms. The frequency of death in dramatic or tragic circumstances is certainly higher here than in the UK. Between childhood cancer, adult male suicide and road accident, you have three of the saddest elements of life in Brazil or in any country.
There is one more. Yesterday in class, Jacina and her sister Mayá were once again in shock. They have recently moved house – onto the island, and away from the neighbourhood where they grew up. The boy next door to where they used to live – at 15 just four years younger than Mayá – was murdered on Sunday. The girls have known him all his life. He and others from his family were constantly in their home, especially when the grandmother who looked after them beat them.
Jacina (centre) and Mayá (right) with their little sister Jasmin. Jacina's teeshirt reads: Drugs, not dead: Partnership against drugs
The lad, Tito, was involved in drug trafficking. He had been involved by his parents, from early childhood. Kids who carry and deliver drugs are called “aviãozinhos” – little aeroplanes. This is what his mum and dad got him to do.
Later on he became involved in other aspects of drug dealing. He killed several people. And it was presumably for that that he was shot with an expanding bullet on Sunday afternoon.
He was playing with a kite. A fifteen year-old murderer and drug dealer is still a kid – and in some ways more of a kid than a British teenager of the same age. Some guys came by, by car and on a bicycle, shooting before making a rapid getaway. As the boy fled one bullet took him in the lower back, bursting out of his stomach. He ran down the hill, clutching his kite to his body. He collapsed near his house and died soon afterwards. His friend was also wounded, his arm smashed by a bullet. Jacina and her family heard while in church at First Baptist, and went straight to the home, to try to bring some word of comfort. The grandmother has been saying for years that the sooner he dies the better. She didn’t feel that way on Sunday night.
The reason that he was cared for by his grandmother is that his parents split up a long time ago, and his mother is currently in prison anyway. While inside she has been converted. She has expressed a wish to move state with her kids and try to start afresh, to rebuild a life without drug trafficking. She has two months of her sentence to run. For this son, it was too late.
I tell the story in its details and social ramifications because it is very typical of one side of life here, which we don’t often mention, but with which many of our colleagues have a much closer and constant acquaintance. Sometimes people have the impression that Florianópolis is a trouble-free backwater. Compared to Rio, São Paulo, Vitória, Recife or even Foz de Iguaçu, Floripa is quiet, yes. But it is not trouble-free, and every year things worsen. One of my ex-students, Roberto Chenk, is pastoring a church in Palhoça, the third municipality that makes up “Greater Florianópolis”. Roberto is very involved with youth work, being one of the most respected Scout leaders in the city. He told me that of a group of 22 teenage lads with which he was recently working, 7 died in a 2 year period. For several it was road death, but for most it was murder.
They say that one in four Brazilian teenagers has seen the body of someone shot dead. Mayá tells me that, though she did not see this lad's body, she has seen two people shot, one right in front of her house. All members of the girls' family have been threatened with guns. We know several other families who have lost close relatives to the gun while we have been here.
Of course, it isn't only the criminals who kill. Or, to put it another way, it is not only the criminals who are criminal. A close friend of ours has been involved in helping a man with anger management. He is a policeman. He has got into rages, from time to time, and has gone into the favela and shot and killed people. This is viewed as a bad thing, so he has been invalided out of the force for the moment for counselling.
Sometimes people react to all this with hardness. Sometimes with humour, that borders on hysteria. Having commented on funerals and the initial moments of bereavement, it is worth saying that the way of handling grief in the medium to long term is also very different from Britain. If Brazilians pour out emotion in violently physical displays at a funeral, they are also far more likely than Brits to say, "I'm fine" one week later. This seems hard, but it is probably also practical. The hurt is poured out in catharsis, and then has to be buried fast, because life must go on. There is not much time or space here to coddle your wounds.
Brazil isn’t all murder and mayhem. But there is enough, more than enough, to justify specific prayer for the situation, and especially for those workers from churches and missions who are doing all they can to help those most likely to get involved with the drug gangs to lead useful lives, and above all to know Christ. Jacina and Mayá, and others in our classes, are involved in the Lazarus Project, an initiative from First Baptist to reach out to the very poor, those in danger of getting involved in drug gangs, and those already going in that direction. Please pray for them.
# posted by Andrew and Cora @ 11:14:00 am 
