All the water of the sea cannot sink a ship, unless it gets inside the ship. In the same way, all the pessimism in the world cannot bring you down, unless you let it get inside you.
What I see on the streets and in conversations by “voice” is a sea of excited, enthusiastic people enjoying the moment. What I see in photos are united families, friends dressed in green and yellow, fired-up barbecues, and lots of laughter.
Now, what I see on any social network is a sea of antipathy, pessimism, and bitterness.
———–
Every Christmas I see the same “wave” invade the chats among evangelical friends. In October or November, the discussions begin, varying from “let’s use Christmas to ‘preach’ the word” all the way to “let’s not celebrate Christmas because it is a Satanist festival to deflect from the true meaning.”
I don’t support either extreme.
I believe that “preaching the word” is a continuous act, lived daily and which consumes all your strength. I don’t “talk” about Jesus to my friends, I live with them, and they “perceive” that I am Christian. Once they see in me some attitude or principle that goes against the “rules of this world,” I take the chance to share my faith, and the reason I opt for decisions contrary to those of the majority.
I do not stop, for a month, to “remember” Jesus’ birth. I try to remember daily, I fail copiously in trying to honor Him always, but I don’t give up on “living Christmas” the next morning.
And I rejoice with Christmas. I give and receive gifts; families gather; it’s a holiday; houses get painted and cheerful; there are sales for the video games I want; people become more charitable;
I can look at Christmas in two ways:
- I can say they are a bunch of fakes who live this for at least a month;
- Or I can be happy, because for at least a month we try to remember Jesus and be a little charitable.
The same has been happening during this World Cup period. I have friends against and for the Cup — invariably both are watching the matches, and also chasing news about how the country is reacting. Some plan barbecues, others sign up to go to the next protest.
I support both.
But I believe that “preaching the protest” is only valid if you are the example. Are you against the Cup? Do you support the protesters? Turn off your TV, take your Brazilian flag, and go to the street with a clean face saying you are against corruption.
Many complain that we are only patriotic for one month. On the one hand I agree — we are “maniacs” for Brazil one month every two years: at the Olympics and World Cups. On the other hand, I see Brazilians fight daily for a better Brazil.
I have a couple of friends who, every week, rain or shine, for more than 4 years, go to a square, with their car, alone, and for 3 hours serve soup to cart-pushers in Curitiba.
Other friends donate the time they have to NGOs that help children. There are others who are missionaries in Chile or in Africa.
And the entrepreneur friends? Those who generate jobs, pay sky-high taxes, and fight to be honest in this country full of difficulties… these are my “Brazilian heroes” too.
My mother is Brazilian, has been teaching children since I was born, and to this day continues daily to make her best to prepare children of character for the future, and gets in return a ridiculous salary and a poor retirement plan. In the end, she doesn’t do this for the money.
These same people, these same friends, know we are economically inferior to the rest of the world. They know our politicians are corrupt. They know our police don’t bring us the security we deserve, and that our roads don’t reflect the taxes we pay.
These same friends, in their majority, do not have a planned retirement, nor an emergency reserve fund.
But these same friends know that, once every 4 years, the world stops to say: Brazil is the biggest champion and one of the best in this sport.
So, these friends of mine remember the World Cups they watched when they were 8, the house full of grandparents, uncles, and cousins. The plentiful table. The smell of meat, the effusive narration of a goal, the party… They remember seeing parents and grandparents crying, the painted street, the anthem, the little school songs.
I don’t condemn them for painting themselves green and yellow for a month. I don’t condemn them for thinking they share the title with the other 23 players. After all, they share the fame of “corrupt” and “creators of the jeitinho” with so many filthy people — why not share the success of other Brazilians?
I live far from Brazil, but I feel a little victorious with every piece of news I receive.
- A Brazilian scientist created an exoskeleton that kicks a ball? I feel part of it.
- A Brazilian was elected the best in the world in mathematics? I feel part of it.
- A Brazilian won in IndyCar? In the NBA? In Spain’s Cup? I was part of it.
It’s my flag, my anthem, my people. People who came out of the same hole of mud and corruption I did, and even so managed to win. If they can, I can. And if they are happy, I am happy.
**_Actually, Christmas changes my whole year, every year. The decorations only appear in December, but the fruits last forever.
I am Brazilian every day, crazy for soccer only one month every four years. But the desire to see Brazil win lasts the whole year._**
Happy World Cup to you!