Just like Brazil is not just football and samba, the Brazilians have discovered India to be more than yoga, curry and incense In January 1948, some dockyard workers in Salvador, the capital of Bahia, heard about an Indian who “died for peace”. Tired of criminals ruining their Carnival every year, the workers formed a group called Filhos de Gandhy (sons of Gandhi) to resist the violent thugs.
Dressed in Indian turbans, dhotis and long shirts printed with Gandhi’s face, they became a legend in Brazil, and still perform in carnivals. For decades, they were Brazil’s only link with India.
In 1980, Brazil’s romance with Gandhi became deeper when Richard Attenborough’s movie hit the screens. Joao Signorelli, a young actor, saw the film several times and made a trip to India. In 2002, he started a monologue in which he would appear as Gandhi and tell stories, blending the Mahatma’s thoughts with tales from lives of ordinary people. Twelve years later, the show still runs to packed houses whenever Signorelli performs in the city. He has worked in dozens of telenovelas and films, but in the metro and sidewalks of Sao Paulo people stop him to talk to the “Brazilian Gandhi”. “The older generation, of course, remembers Gandhi and his message. But a lot of young people with interest in Indian culture come to my show. Their numbers have grown over the years,” says the actor.
Though separated by 24-hour flights and a language barrier, interest in India is growing quite fast in Brazil. Today, Sao Paulo has more than 1,000 yoga studios; schools teaching classical Indian dances have mushroomed in the leafy neighbourhoods; Bollywood dancing is slowly becoming part of the city’s cultural scene; henna artists are competing with tattoo designers; trendy bars here serve cocktail samosas; movies like The Lunchbox have run for weeks; the most prestigious universities in Rio and Sao Paulo now offer courses on Indian politics, culture and films; and in 2013, at least five Brazilian cities organized film festivals to mark “100 years of Indian cinema”.
Unlike other western countries, Brazil has practically no Indian diaspora. With less than 500 Indian families in this country of 200 million, the community has a negligible presence. The first step to bring Indian culture here was taken by Brazilians themselves. Sonia Galvao is one such pioneer. While travelling in India in the 1980s, she saw an Odissi performance and fell in love with the dance. Sonia made several self-funded trips to India to learn the dance from top gurus. For almost three decades, she has been travelling across Brazil, giving free performances. She has also trained two generations of Brazilian women. “It’s my tribute to my gurus. I am the only Brazilian who had the opportunity to learn Odissi from Kelucharan Mahapatra. I like to share that knowledge with others,” says Galvao. “India has so much to offer.”
Just like Indians see Brazil as the land of Pele and sultry samba dancers, India here was till recently seen as the land of yoga, curry and incense. But with the efforts of people like Sonia, even small cities now have a few Indian classical dancers. Though a lot of credit is given to a popular 2007 soap opera Caminhos da India (A passage to India) for triggering huge interest in India, the change began with the opening of the Indian Cultural Centre (ICC) in Sao Paulo in 2011. Located in a villa, the centre offers free classes on dances, music, yoga, Hindi, cooking and lectures on cultural issues. In three years, the ICC has become a “Little India”, where crowds of Brazilians gather to celebrate Holi, Diwali and other festivals. “We are successful because of great interest shown by the local people. So many people who have never been to India want to go there after visiting the centre. We provide a window to India,” says Kamaljit Singh, the ICC director. “We want to bridge the knowledge deficit between India and Brazil.”
Members of several multilateral groups like BRICS, the two countries have never been as close as they are today. The people-to-people contact, which hardly existed earlier, is now made possible by individual artists. Paola Carraro, who learnt Kathak and tanpura in India, performs at major cultural events here. Marcus Santurys, who was given a sitar by Ravi Shankar in Los Angeles, is one of the best-known fusion artists in Sao Paulo. And there is Iara Ananda, who knows both Bharatanatyam and Bollywood moves. A teacher at ICC, Iara is at the centre every Thursday, sitting on the floor with a stick in her hand which she beats on a little drum as a group of Brazilian girls swirl on their feet. On Tuesdays, she is at a private institute, teaching Bollywood steps to a group of 25 girls. “Brazilians love to dance. They have a passion for physical activities and Bollywood dance is a great way to lose weight and have fun at the same time,” says the 24-yearold whose troupe now performs at big cultural events.
Following Iara’s lead, new Bollywood and Bhangra troupes are being formed in this city, with some even planning to have theme-based parties in major pubs and samba clubs. Brazil’s love affair with India has certainly gone beyond Gandhi.