By Julie Hill
The first time I traveled to Brazil I went seeking all the things I had heard about for so many years: beautiful beaches, incredible food, exotic plants and animals, and, of course, as a professional percussionist and teacher – the music.
I traveled to the Pantanal where I saw some of the most beautiful birds on the planet. Next, I went to Rio de Janeiro seeking the sounds of the samba choro and bossa nova. Finally, I went to Salvador da Bahia for samba reggae and in pursuit of the percussion group Olodum (who I first came to love from their work on Paul Simon’s Rhythm of the Saints album).
To my initial disappointment, Olodum wasn’t performing on my first evening of exploring the capital city of the state of Bahia. Situated on the eastern coast of the country, Salvador is a center of Afro-Brazilian culture. As the first capital of Colonial Brazil, the city is one of the oldest in the Americas and one of the first planned cities in the world, established during the Renaissance period.
That night, I did find my anticipated samba reggae, but I also stumbled upon something more—an entire project founded for the purpose of helping women and children find education, self-confidence and success through the arts and samba reggae. Called Escola Didá, the project is housed in the historic Pelourinho district of Salvador da Bahia, in a house purchased with the help of the award-winning Simon, who wanted to express appreciation to the man who founded Escola Didá and who had led the group Olodum and whose accompaniment had led to Simons’ 1992 Grammy.
To understand why a program to help women and children has its roots in Brazilian percussion, one must understand the pivotal role music plays on the city’s daily life. Many evenings, percussion groups can be found in almost every street corner. Some groups are very small and composed of children from five to ten years of age trying to demonstrate their rhythms to the passersby. Other groups can be all men. But before Banda Didá, rarely did one see an all women group.
Banda Didá was absolutely mesmerizing due to their aggressive percussion playing and choreography. Simply uniformed in a woven garment of hemp-like material with their Banda Didá logo emblazoned on a red background, the women projected an incredible energy. They were also strikingly beautiful. All of the players were black and many of them had long blond braids and wore performance makeup of silver eye shadow and thick mascara.
Banda Didá captivated everyone in the audience. No one stood still as we all danced together to their infectious rhythms. Approximately 30 women playing the incredible sounds of samba reggae on the drums offered sounds that were raw and wonderful. They were accompanied by one singer. She was of small stature but had a powerful voice and was perched up on a box so that the percussionists could see her.
The singer communicated with a young woman directing the percussion group. The maestrina (director) signaled which breques (licks) to play next and which instruments would cut out or layer back in. They played for hours into the night.
Return trips to the area eventually unfolded the history of the group and the enterprise known as Escola Didá. Neguinho do Samba — considered to be the creator of samba reggae – founded the project work. A renowned musician, Neguinho played with international groups and was the director for the drumming collective Olodum. With fellow percussionists in Olodum, Neguinho sculpted the rhythm of samba reggae into something unique to Bahia. Before that, groups were playing modified versions of what the samba schools were playing in Rio.
While with Olodum, Neguinho pursued his interest in social reform by forming a band made up of boys surviving on what they stole on the streets. He called them Banda Mirim do Olodum. They were soon making their own instruments, recruiting others to abandon their criminal activities, and grew to 80 boys and girls playing together.
Next, Neguinho formed the first band of women in the Pelourinho. They started playing cans and buckets and then went to instruments. Neguinho’s objective was to create a group in which women have the same rights as men. He wanted to give them a means of creating self-confidence and artistic expression by which they could escape from the limitations of the past. This effort became Escola Didá.
Financed initially by Neguinho, Escola Didá ultimately benefited from Neguinho’s prior collaboration with Paul Simon. Simon offered to buy Neguinho an imported car to show his appreciation for the 1992 Grammy he had won that included Olodum’s rhythms. Neguinho refused the car but explained to Simon his dream of an institution dedicated to addressing social barriers facing women and children. Simon then purchased Neguinho one of the giant pastel-colored homes (an architectural highlight in the Pelourinho) so that he would have a place in which to bring his Escola Didá dream to fruition.
First, a performing group of women percussionists launched. Then came a children’s school for the arts (for boys and girls) including percussion, voice, theater, art, dance, and capoeira, as well as bass guitar, cavaquinho (another string instrument), and keyboard.
Next, as project organizers learned of the children’s housing in dangerous communities and with severely troubled families, they helped Didá house become home for many. Housing, medical care, and how to best educate the children became the expanded focus of the project.
Opportunities the women have had through performances with the touring group have increased their awareness of the world around them and brought international recognition to their organization. Since Didá’s inception, they have performed with many great Brazilian artists and in the United States and Argentina.
I spent time at the Didá house taking lessons from Neguinho (for which he refused payment but asked for an equitable donation to the house). Most of the girls recognized me and knew I was a percussionist from the United States who was interested in learning more about their project. The day before I was to leave Neguinho invited me to perform with the percussion group on their Friday night concert in the street.
I was given a surdo (large bass drum) and was assisted in pulling the strap tightly around my waist. With two surdo mallets, I stood in between two of the other players imitating them as well as I could. The maestrina Adriana stood in front giving signals with confidence and grace. All of the songs have dance moves and choreography with arm motions and using the sticks or mallets. I noticed that all the other surdo players were wearing shin guards. I soon learned why they are worn. The dance moves caused the surdo to bounce about, slamming repeatedly into the shins. As the pain grew, I resolved there was no way I was about to quit.
I noticed from the spectators some skeptical yet approving looks being directed toward this blond, white woman. Rain began to fall quite hard, but we continued to play, and the people continued to dance. If anything, the rain seemed to give us all renewed strength to play on.
There, on the historic cobble stone streets of the Pelourinho with these incredibly powerful women in the pouring rain, I felt their passion and very much a part of something timeless and primitive as well as intensely spiritual. I understood what Neguinho meant by the power of women and music’s ability to transcend race, gender, and to bring all people together.
Two hours later with aching shins and the appreciation of my new friends, I proudly climbed the four long flights of stairs to the top floor of the Didá house to put my surdo away. The pain in my now purple shins was one of the best feelings I have ever had.
NOTE: The author Julie Hill, a resident of Union City, plans on returning to Salvador da Bahia, Brazil, July 18-29 for a two-week experience with Global Citizen Adventure Corps, a nonprofit organization she founded with Dresden native Stacie Freeman. GCAC focuses on providing travel service learning with a particular focus on students and individuals from rural and economically disadvantaged areas.
Though Neguinho died in 2009 at the age of 54, his legacy continues. Viviam Caroline de J. Queirós, percussionist, artist, and activist, began her training as a percussionist with Neguinho and helped birth the Didá Women’s Percussion Ensemble. She then founded YaYa Muxima Women’s Band. The July experience will include Hill and a team from GCAC focusing on her work with women and children as well as taking in the rich Afro Brazilian culture of music, food, dance and surrounding natural beauty. GCAC is also asking for scholarship support for helping a current music student take part in the service learning. To give, join GCAC’s adventure, or to learn more, visit www.globalcitizenadventurecorps.org for details.
Girls and young women build their confidence and musical expertise as they take part in Banda Didá in Salvador da Bahia, Brazil. Julie Hill, a musician and a co-founder of Global Citizen Adventure Corps, visited the area to learn more about this form of street drumming and other Afro Brazilian music and dance. She will return with students and community members July 18-29 to learn more and partner with an in-country service project focused on women and girls. To learn more or register for the adventure, visit www.globalcitizenadventurecorps.org.