(En)Chanted Word

This week it was my intention to write about the soap opera I have going on with the HSBC branch near me here in Rio. I had even picked a good title for the post; I was going to call it "Bank Robbers." But I'll leave this for the end, because fortunately I went to see a documentary about poetry in Brazilian song called "Palavra (En)Cantada," so my mind and emotions are much more happily engaged than in the past few days. This country has an embarrassment of riches when it comes to its lyricists, so much so that it's extremely difficult for anyone to pick out her/his favorite verses. Raise the question and you have food for long, animated discussions around any bar table; go to any show, be it Caetano Veloso or Cordão do Fogo Encantado, a hip-hop contest in Lapa or a popular fair in northeastern Brazil, and you'll hear pure poetry. And, of course, everywhere you go, people KNOW the words to dozens, if not hundreds, of songs.

I'm not sure if I really liked Helena Solberg's documentary (I loved her "Carmen Miranda: Bananas Is My Business" years ago), because I think it left out too much and at times it seems to lose its way. But there are some great moments (I particularly enjoyed the interviews with José Miguel Wisnik, BNegão, and Luiz Tatit) and it would be nice if it played in schools here, I think. And I hope it makes it to the U.S. The best thing for me was actually what someone wrote inspired by the film, and I'm going to make an attempt at translating/quoting him: "If Lula is indeed 'my man' as Obama says...I have my doubts. My vote goes to the songwriters of Brazil." Amen!

As far as the bank is concerned, this is what happened: Back in December I tried to get cash out of an ATM there. I got back a receipt saying something to the effect that the machine wasn't able to dispense the cash...but they took the money out of my account anyway. And don't want to give it back to me! This being a bank, and unfortunately a bank in Brazil, the telenovela is likely to go on for another three to four months. I hope it has a happy-ending, for my sake.