........ to B & TdC 2012

Batizado (baptism)

“The Batizado welcomes new students into the school and strengthens community bonds as recognized and nurtured by M. Bimba. Students are baptized by the floor i.e. that is, they play against higher level capoeiristas and are subsequently taken down by a rasteira to signify a continual process of humility and improvement in the game."

Troca de Cordão (exchange of the cords – belts)

“The changing of the cords signifies the level of a capoeirista. Some capoeiristas will receive a new corda before or after a game played against a Mestre in which they have to show their advancement and earn the right to wear the new corda.”

The Batizado is the most anticipated event/ experience of the year; a combination of graduation + prom night + annual day. New students are excited and the older experienced ones anticipate something new and feel a sense of pride and joy moving on to the next level. It’s a day that demonstrates and acknowledges one’s hard work, perseverance, blood, sweat, tears of joy and possibly some nicks and cuts and, most of all, a sense of accomplishment for that time period. I am still a novice in the universe of capoeira i.e. I’m 2 Batizados old so I have, thus far, experienced 1 year as a newbie and 1 year as an experienced student. Now is my time to move levels up.

There is a lot to experience and gain from the weeks we spend together as a group and with our guests. This year we have expanded to many centres with our line-up of senior instrictors. The tree is growing branches and leaves with each leaf being represented by us – the students. This batizado will marks 6 long eventful years of Capoeira India, it will include students of our Master Reza ‘Baba’ Massah and students of our Sr. instructors, it will include 2 weeks of absolute high energy, talents, workshops, music, festa, the planning and THE EVENT itself.

Apart from the obvious, we become 1 large albeit loud, chaotic, moody, funny, crazy and high on axe familia. We learn so much about 1 another from just spending time or taking charge of certain responsibilities together. The hidden talents and skills make an appearance. There is an almost relaxed to hyper-adrenaline change in the weeks leading to the event. Seniors step up their game and are given independent responsibilities or sole ownership of many crucial points for D-day; here our experiences as students kick in which we emulate as seniors. Our teacher (Baba) serves as a constant guide and support during this time. He is truly a 1 man army probably on an entire plant of Gurana‑ a‑day (you would if you need to deal with us brats). We fight, we play, we work and then we retire for the evening with a chilled bottle of beer and laugh at each other with each other at what we did and what was left out. These stories remain with us until we create new ones the following year to replace the old ones.

The main day is an unbelievable experience. It has its share of high octane energy and peaks and valleys just like any event or show does. But the difference is that where we would have 1 pair of hands, 50 more show up to help you iron out the creases. The Batizado is conducted as a planned and choreographed show (apart from the rodas) with a few impromptu modifications. But the beauty is that we are all soooo well versed that there is just no glitch and we blend in. ‘Tis true when we say “Just bring your energy.” Really that’s all that matters. When you are so happy and going through such a rush, the audience hardly ever realizes what happened behind the scene. They are already wowed by us. Another notable feeling I go through is quite similar to the 1 I experienced during my school sports and annual days. Your family comes beaming with pride and wondering what all are you going to perform. We turn into little children asking them to spot us and make sure to take the signature pictures for keepsake. Family dynamics never change. Each ‘kid’ will always be ‘the star’. The rush during the Batizado also changes your game and your experience as a capoeirista. You will go through waves of excitement, a moment of humility in games where you have been taken down, moments of exhaustion followed by a split second change to absolute axe, moments of trance where you are sucked in by the bateria and their resounding music. The songs sound different and even your body feels different. You invariably try new moves, moves you saw, moves you dared never try or thought you just couldn’t do it. Your perspective and understanding of capoeira or the people in your capoeira family changes; however slight. It’s a journey that’s just started. Sometimes even playing a game in a new venue, new floor, new people with many others watching, changes you. It’s a learning cuz this brings you out of your comfort zone of playing within your circle of friends and in your class where you train.

There will be some hilarious moments created by either you or your friend. Either way, we have enough to carry forward to the weekend and discuss them to stomach crunching laughter. The weekend away is the 1 time EVERYONE makes it. Everyone plans and pours over their calendars to accommodate these special days and not miss out. Sure, we have had our parties and outings but nothing beats having 40-50+ odd people from everywhere living, eating, dancing, singing, laughing etc. all capoeira. And if there is a swimming pool or a beach… eeevveeennn better J. A detailed analysis of the JUST CONCLUDED event will happen and planning for the 7^th Annual Batizado e Troca de Cordao will begin…

Welcome to 6^th Annual Batizado e Troca de Cordão. Love and Axe

Bridges

There were these beautiful patches of land. Wholesome, green, ethereal beauty like colors bursting from a picture that had been worked cleverly in Photoshop  Except these were real. There was a brook, a stream or a body of moving water dividing and connecting the patches. There seemed no good reason to leave these places or try and go for what was beyond what one possessed  All out of a picture from a Lord Tennyson poetry book. Untouched, uncorrupted and no potential for such.

There were bridges connecting these patches of land. I lived in the center most patch and I built the bridges albeit with some help from the patch owners on the other end. It was a mutual decision to build that bridge with the understanding that it would connect us – deeply. We had absolute access to each other and there was love and trust. Our relationships at the point of building the bridge defined how strong or weak or patchy the bridge was. None of the bridges any of us built were uniform from start to end. For the most part the bridges were insanely strong.

We let nature try and test us as we built ‘em. Sometimes we retired to our own patches of land and homes and watched for the storm to end. We could see each other across the water and our eyes said it all but we continued to wait for the storm to settle. There were times, unbreakable times when we decided to hell with the weather – let’s take a stand. Let’s work at it in the rain and wind. Those were good times. I remember them all. We would wipe the disdain and remnants off each other. Giggle some and even challenge the travesty. Then head over to each other’s patches and just love each other. There were times when it was really quiet and not a stir outside. Perfect sun moon and stars. Perfect broth on the stove and perfect coffee in our mugs. But a storm raging in our hearts. Waste. That’s all I could think of such days when we didn't make the most of it and stood still in our compartmentalized egos which we pretended we couldn't overcome.

Then came more land owners on the other side of my patch. With the ever increasing weakness and cracks becoming obvious by the weathering it had stood by, I wanted to build some more bridges. I didn’t at first. For the longest time I shared 1 water bank, 1 neighbor and 1 dream. I looked around and noticed more land owners who were always there but I just didn’t acknowledge them. I was human and a girl. I turned. The sun also burned my skin a different way and all the same existences smelled and felt different. I was nervous but these land owners wanted to build bridges and connect to me. Many I refused but I was more than willing with some (2).

It was the same experience. Except something dangerously different about these 2 new ones. They were risky, new and even outrageous. But I sunk in like I was meant to be there. The toxicity didn’t bother me and the sweetness only made me succumb. This wasn’t me. I hated it and I loved it too. But I kept my eyes on the 1^st bridge. I couldn’t give it time for maintenance and the energy it asked of me. I combined my inadequacies  and its flaws and converted them into rage. I was Toby Maguire (spiderman) in the black alien suit. Meanwhile I threw myself into the new bridges – guard down, morals and principles some. I accepted everything like an idiot. My increasing blindness towards the old bridge – MY BRIDGE – made me miss when it had caught fire and was reduced to shards of weak links. We looked at each other again from our windows. We saw the tears we both tried to hide but again the compartmentalized feelings. He came over the remnants of what was once our bridge but the other 2 patch owners hogged my attention from him.

I was lost. What was I doing? I burnt down the 1 bridge I built. I wasn’t even as sure of the new bridges as I was of this one. But I went on. He left and never returned. Like nature saw our burnt hearts she increased the width of the water body separating us. The silting made it impossible to swim across also without risk. We didn’t feel the same strong urge to swim across no matter what. I was falling in love with one of the new bridges. There was even a time I worked alone all alone to build that bridge. I was hoping that my love and dedication would stir the new owner my way. See that he had to contribute evenly and not just when he felt the need to. When I stopped working he would come and pacify me to work together. We would… for a bit and then it would be me alone. Now we both built an incomplete bridge. Sure we can cross over but there are gaps and scrapes and nails. There is hurt and hard work instead of a smooth walk across. I loved that bridge. I still do. But it doesn't love me back.

The 3^rd and last bridge. Complete mess but there is innocence and stupidity there. It was a trial and error bridge. The real risky one. This owner loves me. I didn't quite ever ensure if I loved him back with the same intensity. He would pretend to not work on the bridge during the day cuz others would watch him and he didn't want that. But at night whether the moon was at its brightest or there was no light, and when my candle burned out for the day, he would sneak and toil away. He just didn't know that I watched. I kept watch as well and cared. Every nick and cut he got I cared and made sure that they healed. He was clumsy and he was careless but his heart was very much there. He didn't want me seeing it and I pretended like I had not seen it. That too annoyed him and amused me.

Now I am 2 bridges weak and burned, 1 shabby and unreliable yet working but none to cross over. I could sit in my patch all alone surrounded by all these patches and their owners and the water and the bridges and yet be lonely. I still sit and ponder – which bridge is really worth repairing and putting the last of my blood and sweat in. which bridge do I wish to climb across and seal in my memory for ever after. Which patch owner is the one I would like to build the bridge again and again with. I still ponder.

The 1^st bridge is ‘R’. The remaining 2 I watch and covet everyday and they burn me from inside out. Bridges….