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A necessary rescue II

Curitiba, Paraná/Brasil, to nowadays. Century 21

Egon really liked to tell the stories of our ancestors, immigrants who left German Silesia (now Czech Republic), from Germany and the Austro-hungarian Empire, some refugees from the First War, others who have ventured themselves to gain more then what they received in an Europe in full recession.

America was an El Dorado, where gold used to spring up in the soil and everything that was planted grew vigorously. A paradise on earth.

A lot of lies and a few truths collaborated to increase the suffering and the adaptation of these immigrants who dreamed with prosperity, often thinking they would live in North America, not South, without the option to return to their homeland. Is a fact that in the first ship that left from Germany to Brazil, many immigrants thought they were going to San Francisco, California, but they landed after three months of traveling – leaving the european winter and coming to the brazilian summer – in San Francisco, Santa Catarina, southern Brazil

Was with curiosity and attention that children from Egon heard these stories, like fairy tales of the famous Brothers Grimm, the tales of magical Sherazad, with the big difference that the distory from my family was not pure ficction and, yes, real life stories, of people who came here to work without knowing what they would face in a wild and unexplored country.

Just as so many immigrants, the Weigert and Wanke were part of the story of colonization of this State, which became the “land of all nations” for sheltering diverses ethnic cultures. The Paraná, Santa Catarina and Rio Grande do Sul received many German immigrants, Poles, Austrians and Italians, in part because the climate of this region – the South of Brazil – was similar with the European and it facilitated the adaptation of new settlers, and also because the abolition of slavery created a serious productive problem: the big landowners were losing their land and the country needed to grow, and to produce, it needed to be colonized.

However, Hermann Weigert (father) and Edward Wanke (husband) came before this process and not as poor colonizers, uneducated and with the unique dream to live here a better life. They came as technical specialists to build the progress and make real the railroad that would conect the plateau (Curitiba) to coast (Port of Paranaguá). They were among the workers considered more specialized from the technical people employed in the Austrian Empire.

Silesia

The Hermann, Marie’s father, born in 1841, in Trachtenberg, German Silesia, today the Czech Republic, arrived in Brazil already hired by the French company defined to build the railway, as well as my great grandfather Edward, who came a little later. Hermann arrived 38 years old and his role in the work was to put the rivets in bridges and metal overpasses to join the pieces.

Edward, who arrived years later, served the Austrian army, where he made his course of military engineering. Came to Brazil with 21 or 22 years, hired by Compagnie dês Chemins de Fer Brésiliens, the one choose to do the work.

Hermann used to say that if he had gained a penny by each rivet he had put on the steel structure built in the mountains, he would be a millionaire. According to the report contained in the book by Eno Theodor Wanke – Immigrant Saga (Saga dos Imigrantes)- to make the riveting in a bridge you needed teams with at least four men. Two in the pipeline, either for heating or for the passage to the bridge riveteres, another handling the bellows to keep the flame in high temperature.

The bridge

“In the bridge, two men were in charge of riveting, one working in front of another. The transport from the rivet to them depended, naturally, of the position they occupied in relation to the forge. If easy to reach, the rivets was brought one by one into a bucket by a fifth worker. If hard to reach, hanging like spiders in inacessible places, the transport was done by shooting: a man, using bucket, threw the rivet and the other the other picked it up algo in a bucket, passing them one by one, to the riveters.

And this giddy transport by air, could have intermediate steps, in which the workers, strategically placed, caught the hot rivet with his bucket and immediately give it to the next one, until it came to the riveters. (…) As you can see, was essentially a blacksmith work. Who looks for those viaducts and bridges soon notes the huge amout of rivets on it. There are thousands, milions, regularly arranged, buttoning buttons steel beams into each other, keeping the solidity of the whole. (…)

The Railway Curitiba-Paranaguá is one of the most beautiful works of engineering built amid the cliffs of the Serra do Mar, making a sinuous trace inside the exuberant Atlantic Forest in Paraná. In this place are together the hands of God and man: the forest and the railway.

Impossible

From this building, whose project was considered impossible by French engineers and that was not forward in the hands of an Italian coach, my ancestors participated in the realization, commanded by a Brazilian who accepted the challenge and believed in the impossible: the miner João Teixeira Soares, who had only 33 years when started the construction.

When the work of the most difficult and spectacular stretch was completed, where the most imposing viaducts were built, especially Taquaral, next to the rocky escarpments, projected in a curve with three spans of 12 meters and one with 25 meters, 57 meters in total, the President of the Province, Dr. Carlos Augusto de Carvalho, tall dignified president of Paraná, visited the work.

The visit happened in June of 1884 and Dr. Carlos participated of a small ceremony in which he expressed his feeling in a mixture of pride and triumph: _ “The South Americans also can now say that the word ‘impossible’ is not part of their dictionary . If a yankee breaks the ice wall of the Sierra Nevada with the iron paw of a mechanical horse, we Brazilians, equally make him treading by impracticality of magnitude equivalent.”. The work was inaugurated on February 5th 1885, although the first train to travel the entire line was on December 19, 1884.

So, as you can see, Marie’s father participated of this process which was a historical landmark for the country’s development. He arrived in Brazil already married in Germany with the German Anna Pauline, he also had already four children. The first of four children, born in Breslau, was Marie Weigert, on March 8, 1871.

Return

Their intention was to return to Germany after the construction of the railroad with the pockets full of money. The project was to make a financial reserve and return to live in their homeland.
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But it did not happen because Anne Pauline decided to sell everything in Germany, take the children and find her husband in Brazil. “Hermann nearly fainted because of the fright when he saw her. Her arrival meant the end of the hopes of return. And effectively, was that way.”

 

1 Wanke, Eno Theodoro. The saga of the immigrants. Rio de Janeiro: Editora Paquette, 1993. P.107

2 Wanke, 1993, p. 99

3 Wanke, 1993, p. 101

4 Wanke, 1993, p. 108

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To be a good housewife? I

Avenue Candido de Abreu, Curitiba/Brazil, 1888 – Marie Weigert Wanke’s home

My story, actually, beggins here, in the day my mother gave my a spanking for being reading a beautiful novel, fully satisfied in my marriage bed, having myself as the best.

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Imagine a married woman taking some flicks of the mother, with a rod of quince, like a naughty little girl.

Wrong ot not, this story was told from generation to generation. I got famous among my descendants, evidently I don’t care about it and I still keep it as a legacy to generations who wish to receive the gift of love reading.

It all started when Edward was complaining to my mother that I, instead of making lunch, I was reading in bed. I confess that neither remembered the house and my daily tasks … Edward left for work in the morning and I, zupt, threw myself on the bed and I dived in the pages of a delightful romance.

You know how is the anxiety that comes when we feel that insane desire to see the end of a story. Than I just surrendered without resistence to this need.

What a shame! I was really concentrated in the bed like a queen, and did not feel the time pass and Edward come and see me at this literary delight. I felt ashamed, yes, but very different from what everybody feels when do something wrong or do not know how to do something correctly. My shame was like a “youngster” caught in a romp that deep in the soul hide certain sensation of triumph for doing that way.

I love reading…

I think the books are meant to be eaten, sated by the eyes, and the stories contained on it must penetrate our minds and mix itself with our thoughts on delighted dreams, in revelations, in knowledge and wisdom…

But even so, the fact of being caught reading at this time when women had no place in the intelectual world and also in the labor market, another sensation was coming. I also felt a huge disappointment compared to my new role: the wife. I thought that, now married, I could live a quieter life, without the endless responsability to clean the house, do laundry, make lunch every day. I thought Edward would be more understanding with me, and wouldn’t ask me to strictly fulfill my tasks. After all, he is 10 years older than me and could be more condescending to my little life experience – I am only 17.

Marie Weigert Wanke

Me, Marie Weigert now Wanke too, first born in a family of 10 brothers and my mother, so poor, really needed my help to take care of their children and of the butcher’s shop. I always admired her for the strongness and courage to abandon everything in Germany and live with her husband in a country so distant and different from where we used to live. That was the feeling that pushed me to share, with dedication, the domestic service, what consequently increased my responsability and left me timeless to play and devocate myself to nobles pastimes as reading.

Anyway, repress this uncontrollable wish to fly on the magic carpet from the pages of a book, and choose the tasks of a housewife, did not leave me revolted. Instead, I resigned and accepted the idea. After all, that was how they used to educate women in that century and is not my style questionating. My temper is far from being rebel, I think more practical submit myself to the system. They always told me I am from a quiet and sweet nature.

Now, after the fright of the suddenly flicks, I even smile remembering the scene… Of course, a kind of yellow smile. I see clearly Edward going to the butcher shop next to our house and ask “mota”1 to take a look at my pose, all loose, lying in bed with the book in my hand. I remember when I felt the spanking in me leg, I left the room jumping untill I reached the kitchen and concentrated on the dishes.

impetuous and determined mother

Certainly, my impetuous and determined mother, when saw the scene, got herself outraged with the failure of her education, had no hesitation in taking her wand quince and give me some good slaps.

That’s right! In the moral values of my mother, the german immigrant, Anna Pauline, daughter of butchers from Breslau, was unacceptable that one of her daughters, carefully hard educated from germans, failed to fulfill the sacred duties of a housewife. So, that was how at age 17, married, I took a few flicks, simple because of the fact that I like too much of reading my lovely novels in an inconvenient time.

For this episode, so simple, and at the same time so intense and capable to remark future generations, I need to open my heart and tell you and to the entire lineage of Weigert and Wanke, who like, love, just like me, to read a good book, I offer this passion as a legacy. I wish the “slap” received be an incentive recorded, almost like a command, in memory of my cells, and spread among my children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren… so they seek to develop this wonderful habit, which I consider a real treat that never leaves us lonely: the reading.

Enjoy my ancestral energy, my signal and always seek to improve more. Read for me…

Maybe, that way, I will satiate, by my descendants, this thirst and this habit, so inaccessible to me, as well as for many women from nineteenth century.

The legacy I left is to compensate my resignation to the situation in which I lived, without revolt with my fate as a mother, wike and homewife. Instead, I had a wonderful time in this life and completed myself as a women, though, I recognize that, I wish…to tell the truth… to have had more time to read.

Style unique

Maybe for this resignation and for being a quiet woman, even a little out of the problems, I was the reason of teasing to my brothers, who used to catch me with jokes when I forgot things and facts.

For my own style, unique, is that I became character of many stories told among the Weigert and Wanke. For example, before finishing my lunch, I loved to go through the neighborhood – all brothers and cousins – and see what was inside the pots, chatting a little bit, and then, after this, go back to my kitchen and finish the lunch of the day. They also told that I used to go to the bathroom and forgot to tie the strips of these terribles “shorts” with opening behind, nothing sexy, we women wore beneath our huge skirts. My brother always warned me that they dragged on the ground.

Bahhh… That never bothered me. But back to the story of the slaps, I have always in my mind Egon, my nephew, telling me tim-tim-by-tim-tim, that Edward went to the butcher, next to my house, where the “mota” used to live, and told in German: “Komm, komm, kuch mal was passiert ist!” – “Come, come, come to see what is happening”…

Then Egon finished telling the story, everyone smiled because of this episode and her wife, Odette, my nephew, completed saying: “-What a shame, she got married so young and did not know the responsability that she was going to face with! She thought getting married would free herself of taking care of the brothers and would let her to do everything she wanted! Neither had any idea of the offspring she would produce: eight children.
Mota – mommy, in German, at least in the concept of the immigrants who settled in Candido de Abreu.

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Encontre a alma das palavras no Museu da Língua Portuguesa

Aguardamos o seu renascimento a partir das cinzas, como Fênix, ressurgindo com toda a sua grandiosidade!

O Museu da Língua Portuguesa foi destruído pelo fogo em dezembro 2015. O Brasil viu seu tesouro maior ser consumido pelas chamas. A matéria abaixo resume toda a paixão da jornalista, pelo que considerava um dos mais belos museus do mundo. Foi publicada antes do incêndio.

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Encontro marcado

Todo o brasileiro que se preza deve marcar um encontro com as palavras no Museu da Língua Portuguesa, na Estação da Luz, em São Paulo.

O visitante chega ao local e descobre que irá  fazer parte de uma viagem, com um roteiro criativo e repleto de informações sobre a origem, a alma das palavras que formaram o idioma que hoje é falado no Brasil.

O Museu da Língua Portuguesa é um legado inestimável para todo cidadão brasileiro e um verdadeiro deleite para os que amam etimologia.

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O encontro com este mundo é inovador.

A tecnologia é utilizada para provocar, instigar, estimular o público a pesquisar, a saber mais sobre a língua portuguesa, de um jeito diferente, em que o computador, a multimídia dão lugar à caneta e ao papel e tornam-se recursos fantásticos, rápidos, e de grande motivação para ajudar o adulto ou a criança a buscar dados sobre nosso idioma. Como por exemplo, quais são as palavras do idioma Banto (africano) que contribuíram para compor os falares em nosso país, assim com o Tupi (indígena), e inúmeros outros, o espanhol, italiano, francês, alemão, vindos pela imigração.

De começo, na entrada, a “Árvore das Palavras”, uma escultura que chama atenção pelo tamanho – de 16 metros de altura – criada por Rafic Farah, na  qual o visitante encontra palavras que contribuíram para formação do idioma português e do português falado no Brasil, assim como a representação em objetos e animais.

No interior dos elevadores que dão acesso às exposições, para completar a sensação de estar entrando num túnel do tempo, é possível ouvir as palavras “língua” e “palavra”, como uma espécie de mantra,  em vários idiomas, composto por Osvaldo Antunes.

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Galeria

A Grande Galeria é parada obrigatória para ouvir e ver, numa tela de 106 metros, filmes sobre pessoas falando nas diversas formas de se comunicar em português: do povo simples caipira, do cantor, do nordestino, que vivem neste Brasil afora. Logo ao lado estão localizadas as “palavras cruzadas”, vários totens com computadores repletos de palavras portuguesas e as suas verdadeiras almas, como é o caso de abajur, cuja origem é francesa – abat-jour – que significa abaixar a luz.

A linha do Tempo mostra a história da língua portuguesa, num painel que começa em 400 AC e termina no ano 2000, do século XXI.

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Estes setores são apenas uma pequena parte do que é possível explorar nos 4,3 mil metros quadrados de muita informação e criatividade. As exposições permanentes – Grande Galeria, Linha do Tempo, Palavras Cruzadas, Beco das Palavras e Mapa dos Falares – estão no segundo andar. O primeiro é dedicado às mostras temporárias.

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O auditório para projeção do filme sobre a história da língua portuguesa localiza-se no terceiro andar. O roteiro encerra na Praça da Língua: espécie de “planetário da Língua”, composto por imagens projetadas e áudio. Uma antologia da literatura criada em Língua Portuguesa, com curadoria de José Miguel Wisnik e Arthur Nestrovski.

Vá em frente que será um passeio inesquecível. Apenas deixe uma tarde inteira para esquecer de tudo e mergulhar nas vidas passadas das palavras que fazem parte do vocabulário que hoje você fala no Brasil. O ingresso é baixo, custa R$ 6,00 e mais informações poderão ser obtidas no site do Museufoto10

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Fique com Deus

 

“Fique com Deus” tem a identidade brasileira. Já está patenteado na nacionalidade verde-amarelo. É cultural.

Me aponte quem nunca ouviu de um amigo, pai, mãe, vizinho, na despedida um sonoro “Fique com Deus ou Deus te acompanhe”, acompanhado de um abraço carinhoso.

Me dei conta do fato, quando entrei numa farmácia na Itália, no tempo em que estava estudando em Roma,  e conversa-vai- e-conversa- vem com a vendedora, contamos que éramos brasileiras – minha prima estava comigo.

– Ohh! exclamou a moça que nos atendia.  “Adoro os brasileiros”, disse com os olhos brilhando e em seguida disse Alessandra sorrindo “fiquê con Dio”, num italiano aportuguesado, orgulhosa por demonstrar que conhecia uma característica nossa.

Amor brasileiro

A versão com sotaque do  “Fique com Deus” era a doce lembrança de um amor brasileiro, que não vingou por causa da distância, embora tenha ficado como marca seu jeito terno de tratá-la quando se despedia dela.

Fique com Deus, ou Deus te acompanhe, vá com Deus, são expressões que fazem parte do nosso cotidiano e do nosso vocabulário brasilianês.

Uma outra amiga, bem humorada, fez a opção pelo Deus te acompanhe porque de acordo com a opinião dela, o ‘fique com Deus ou vá com Deus” dava a impressão de que alguém estava desejando uma boa estada lá no céu. Esse comentário fez quando, ao me despedir lhe desejei um “fique com Deus”.

– Nãoooo! Por favor, diga Deus te acompanhe. Não quero ir lá para cima agora, ria divertida.

Bem, é apenas uma forma de interpretar que ao me ver não influi na intenção de quem deseja o bem para nós. O fantástico disso tudo é perceber que cada povo tem uma forma de saudação ou despedida. Doce, amorosa, espiritual, seja qual for a mensagem,  representa a linguagem do inconsciente coletivo de uma comunidade.

Áustria

Há  mais de 20 anos, numa viagem em que fiz à Áustria, precisamente em Salsburgo, lembro até hoje uma saudação que me chamou atenção. Todos passavam e seriamente cumprimentavam com algo que significava como “Louvemos a Deus, ou Salve o Senhor!”. Embora não entenda o alemão, Gott, é Deus neste idioma, e exatamente esta  palavra eu percebia nitidamente no cumprimento. Perguntei em seguida o que significava para uma pessoa que falava português e entendia em alemão e confirmei que era uma saudação comum entre eles. Não sei se ainda continuam a se saudar desta forma ou se é um hábito do interior, em algumas regiões mais rurais, sei apenas que é acolhedor ser recebido por palavras espirituais numa cidade estrangeira.

Entendo também minha amiga italiana que memorizou com tanto carinho a saudação de seu amor brasileiro. Bendizer algo para nossos amigos e mesmo pessoas desconhecidas faz bem para ambos os lados. É singelo, simples e tão significativo!

Aliás, não tem nada de piegas,não!

As pessoas que saúdam  ou reverenciam um ser superior dão lição de humildade. Ser humilde não é ser pequeno e sem importância. A palavra umilità, segundo o dicionário italiano Devoto, deriva do latim,humilità, e significa uma virtude pela qual o homem reconhece seus próprios limites. Segundo o Aurélio, é uma virtude que nos dá o sentimento da nossa fraqueza. Também, tanto o Aurélio quanto o Devoto definem outros significados,  como baixa condição social e submissão.

Da minha parte prefiro ficar com a definição de virtude. É mais poética e possivelmente a verdadeira raiz do significado latino. A outra que nos coloca para baixo, é uma deturpação da sociedade moderna… rsss…

Portanto, a expressão “fique com Deus” representa uma bela maneira de emanarmos para o nosso próximo, do fundo do nosso coração, a energia de proteção colocada nas mãos de uma força acima de nós…

sobretudo é um reconhecimento da nossa pequenez, nossa insignificância neste planeta e na condução dos acontecimentos.

  “Fique com Deus” leitor amigo que se envolveu na tramas sentimentais deste texto.