João

For the Secretary’s recent visit to Brasilia I was given my own car and driver. The car was unspectacular, a nondescript black, Toyota or Chevy something-or-other, but the driver wasn’t.

João was from Salvador da Bahia. He lived in Philadelphia where he learned English by riding the bus around the city, listening to commuter talk. He lives in one of the satellite cities of Brasilia where in his free time he teaches music to children. On the recent 32 day (and counting) strike by public school teachers, he lamented that it was not good for children to be “sob a influência negativa” for such a long span. On our first of many rides to President Juscelino Kubitschek International Airport, he taught me the difference between Carioca samba (from Rio) and Bahian samba (from Salvador) by tapping the rhythms on the leather-padded steering wheel.

The highlight of the Secretary’s visit for Sam was the morning João and I drove him to school in “the special car”. Sam felt like a rock star when he pulled up in front of school in his long black car, sitting in the back with his dad, João opening the door for him. It was definitely the highlight of the Secretary’s visit from my perspective, too, eeking out exiting Itamaraty with the Secretary, where we maneuvered over a red carpet, past flash bulbs popping, through a gambit of polearm-wielding sentries plumed with ostrich feathers, and darting for the Mercedes boxer van idling in the motorcade. Yeah, seeing Sam’s smile that morning was definitely better than all that.