The
Environment in Us
The
environment has a subtle and balmy influence, which helps us forge our psyches
early in life. I have made many friends from different parts of the world,
which share the same opinion about the influence of the environment on our
formations. Some of these friends grew up in the Appalachian Mountains and
others in the Andean Mountains. Their characters reflect the ponderous country lifestyle
inherited from the mountains. I also have friends that grew up on the beaches
of Mexico and Rio, and the beaches of Greece and Italy. Their expressions and
behavior convey the colors and free lifestyle of the beach. I love the beach,
but my beach does not resemble the stylish conventional one. It sways like the
high breakers of Rio’s Barra south shore; it blows like its occasional gales of
Southwestern Winds, and it scars with its trails of dangerous accesses.
In Rio we have a nickname that became
synonymous with sun, sand, and surf—Cariocas— meaning an individual born in
Rio. As a carioca, I learned the way to Rio’s surf beaches where waves of ten
feet were not attractive to tourists. Besides, the long and arduous travel to
connect with their beauty worked like a magnet attracting me and my friends to
experience it firsthand. Body surfing was our thrill, and we could not engage
it freely on a crowded beach. There was no way to connect with that spiritual
dimension that comes only in solitude. A far and untouched beach were the
answer to our quest. In addition, the political pressure my generation was
under gave birth to a special breed of Cariocas: The Tropicalians. The beach
thrills seekers experiencing places, which later were in danger of
environmental annihilation.
Born out of the 70’s music style, the Tropicalia movement gave Brazilians a new cultural identity. Its writings, lyrics, and rhythms, provided us the motivation to explore new ways of living and to fight the tyranny of the Brazilian military government. Tropicalism helped catalyze the time, and it sent us on an environmental exploration to discover personal potential. I pushed myself to extremes to camp on Rio’s secluded beaches. To access its beauties, we had to bushwhack all day up and down dangerous steeped hills praying for no snake bites. The price was high on our physical structure, but the spiritual benefit was awesome. It gave us the endurance necessary to go on with our lives. Incredibly, my guitar survived all the rain, sea water, and falls throughout those journeys.
I always thank the leaders of the Tropicalia movement for guiding my generation. Brazil was under military repression for the fear of communism. The military created a board of censorship to filter any article of writing, music, and speech going against its campaign. I remember the word they used: subversive. It resonated like bombs exploding with terrorism in our heads. In fact, they were planting the bombs themselves and blaming the political parties. Their campaign to keep the public scared also included a curfew. Nobody allowed on the street after sundown! That’s when the Tropicalia movement spread like wildfire. The artists had to become masters of metaphors to elude the censorship, and give the people the message of hope. Sometimes, the board found some writings too obvious and prosecuted the artists. Some artists ended up exiled. Others were imprisoned and tortured. But the Tropicalia survived and provided us a psychological outlet. The message transpired: stay informed and educated! Don’t believe in military authority! They are deceivers, destroyers of freedom! You had to have experienced that kind of repression, with beatings and public searches, to understand what freedom means; and I have to thank also, those incredible beaches for their existence. That environment forged my character and helped me survive the 70’s in Brazil.
I left Rio for America in 1985, when the Brazilian military government gave the country back to its civilians. It was a time of amnesties and many exiled artists returned home. Political parties finally gained the freedom to follow their ideals, and the Brazilian people had hopes for prosperity. In America, I heard of new entrepreneurial deals with the world markets and Brazil. It created possibilities that were unheard of in the “repression” times. Unfortunately, by the 90’s, I learned that the entrepreneurial machine was bulldozing its way through, and giving birth to beachfront real estate destroying Rio’s natural beauty—Irony larger than that, I had never seen. After the Tropicalians finally won their battle, the new Brazil began to destroy its environment at a rate never believed possible. I am still in touch with many of my youth friends, and they told me that the neighbors of Barra da Tijuca Beach, the beach we grew up, had come together and fought fiercely against the developers. They got to stop them very near our beach sanctuaries.
The miracle of free-spirited environmentalists won the votes in the Brazilian Congress, and the creation of “The Sanctuary of Prainha and Grumari” occurred. Its extension and difficult access make depredation impossible. If you find your way there, it means you love that place. And I found my way there again in 2009, and walked through its narrow trails to gain its white sands. I slid on my scuba flippers, jumped into its Green-waters, and swum across the strong currents passing the breaking points. After a couple of swells, I spotted a huge one, and I went for it. It raised me about 12 feet and my adrenaline to a million—“too late to back off.” I dropped the beast, cut it left searching for the “rail,” and got it! Immediately, I heard again that familiar explosion followed by the roar of a freight train coming behind me. A thousand memories flowed in that nanosecond, and in a natural response, I let out my roar. The wave refused to kill me once more. Instead, it thrust me towards life, like it always did. With gentle power, she allowed me the connection, and I became infused in my environment once again.
Born out of the 70’s music style, the Tropicalia movement gave Brazilians a new cultural identity. Its writings, lyrics, and rhythms, provided us the motivation to explore new ways of living and to fight the tyranny of the Brazilian military government. Tropicalism helped catalyze the time, and it sent us on an environmental exploration to discover personal potential. I pushed myself to extremes to camp on Rio’s secluded beaches. To access its beauties, we had to bushwhack all day up and down dangerous steeped hills praying for no snake bites. The price was high on our physical structure, but the spiritual benefit was awesome. It gave us the endurance necessary to go on with our lives. Incredibly, my guitar survived all the rain, sea water, and falls throughout those journeys.
I always thank the leaders of the Tropicalia movement for guiding my generation. Brazil was under military repression for the fear of communism. The military created a board of censorship to filter any article of writing, music, and speech going against its campaign. I remember the word they used: subversive. It resonated like bombs exploding with terrorism in our heads. In fact, they were planting the bombs themselves and blaming the political parties. Their campaign to keep the public scared also included a curfew. Nobody allowed on the street after sundown! That’s when the Tropicalia movement spread like wildfire. The artists had to become masters of metaphors to elude the censorship, and give the people the message of hope. Sometimes, the board found some writings too obvious and prosecuted the artists. Some artists ended up exiled. Others were imprisoned and tortured. But the Tropicalia survived and provided us a psychological outlet. The message transpired: stay informed and educated! Don’t believe in military authority! They are deceivers, destroyers of freedom! You had to have experienced that kind of repression, with beatings and public searches, to understand what freedom means; and I have to thank also, those incredible beaches for their existence. That environment forged my character and helped me survive the 70’s in Brazil.
I left Rio for America in 1985, when the Brazilian military government gave the country back to its civilians. It was a time of amnesties and many exiled artists returned home. Political parties finally gained the freedom to follow their ideals, and the Brazilian people had hopes for prosperity. In America, I heard of new entrepreneurial deals with the world markets and Brazil. It created possibilities that were unheard of in the “repression” times. Unfortunately, by the 90’s, I learned that the entrepreneurial machine was bulldozing its way through, and giving birth to beachfront real estate destroying Rio’s natural beauty—Irony larger than that, I had never seen. After the Tropicalians finally won their battle, the new Brazil began to destroy its environment at a rate never believed possible. I am still in touch with many of my youth friends, and they told me that the neighbors of Barra da Tijuca Beach, the beach we grew up, had come together and fought fiercely against the developers. They got to stop them very near our beach sanctuaries.
The miracle of free-spirited environmentalists won the votes in the Brazilian Congress, and the creation of “The Sanctuary of Prainha and Grumari” occurred. Its extension and difficult access make depredation impossible. If you find your way there, it means you love that place. And I found my way there again in 2009, and walked through its narrow trails to gain its white sands. I slid on my scuba flippers, jumped into its Green-waters, and swum across the strong currents passing the breaking points. After a couple of swells, I spotted a huge one, and I went for it. It raised me about 12 feet and my adrenaline to a million—“too late to back off.” I dropped the beast, cut it left searching for the “rail,” and got it! Immediately, I heard again that familiar explosion followed by the roar of a freight train coming behind me. A thousand memories flowed in that nanosecond, and in a natural response, I let out my roar. The wave refused to kill me once more. Instead, it thrust me towards life, like it always did. With gentle power, she allowed me the connection, and I became infused in my environment once again.
Andre Gomes
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