The Art of Sisterhood and Florianópolis
By: Julie Morel
Tags: Birth, Midwifery, Traditions Around World, Brazil, Pregnancy

The island on which I spent these two weeks…. breathtaking…

So getting to Brazil has kind of always been a lifelong dream of mine. I can’t really tell you exactly what it was that was drawing me there, but it definitely (along with Thailand) was always at the forefront of my mind if someone asked me where I dreamed to visit. When I planned my project proposal for this fellowship, though, I didn’t think to add Brazil because it didn’t feel so aligned with my project goals. However, when my co-intern in Guatemala told me about Naoli Vinaver — world-renowned Mexican midwife who now resides in Brazil — I decided to do some research and found that she was offering a two week workshop titled “The Art of Giving Birth” at the start of December — exactly the timeframe for which I hadn’t yet made my next plans. So I followed my gut, booked a plane ticket to Florianopolis, and emailed Naoli to let her know I was registering.

But getting there was a little bit more of an adventure than I had anticipated… I had booked a really extended journey because it was the cheapest route to get to southern Brazil from Mexico City, but let me not recommend 3 layovers for a flight that easily could’ve been done without any. I mean, overall it was worth it but BOY was I tired by the end. I started off with 17 hours in Cancun, so I decided to make my way to the beach after leaving my ginormous backpack in a storage locker and hopping on the public bus until I spotted a stretch of sand that looked welcoming. Because it was 6 am and the sun was just coming up, the breeze was still kinda chilly so I stretched out in the sand and napped until I woke up to the sound of kids playing around in the water. Went for a swim in the clear water (ok Cancun!) and walked along the shore to find a breakfast place that looked appealing on Google Maps.

But when I got to the supposed location and walked through the resort that I had to pass through, I found out the place was closed due to construction… sooooo I did what any reasonable person would do — I stayed at the resort! I had already made my way inside, so I just went to their little grocery store to pick up some coconut water and the best carrot cake I’ve ever eaten, selected one of the big white beds at the poolside, and stretched myself out for the whole afternoon until it was time to head back to the airport (and honestly almost forgot my luggage at the storage locker oops).

really quite tired and sick

My second layover was in Lima, Peru, and unfortunately my 10 hours were all through the night and I had to pick up my luggage past customs once again and wasn’t able to check in until the morning, so I found myself sleeping on the floor and being moved around every 45 minutes by cleaning staff (seriously, Lima airport is probably the cleanest I’ve seen — they’re mopping the floor ALLLL the time??). By the time I got to my gate, I was feeling so rundown and exhausted from 24 hours of no real sleep, and definitely felt some sort of flu coming on…

But I couldn’t stop, because the next destination was Santiago de Chile! I had done a fair amount of research beforehand regarding the political situation and recent uprisings to check if it was safe to leave the airport. Having started with the president proposing a raise in metro fares, many people (mostly young people) took to the streets to fight the hike. Though the president rescinded his proposal two weeks in, protesters used the momentum of their energy to continue fighting for better life, angry with the state of things in Chile.

When I was looking online though, most sources were saying protests had died down since the end of October. What I came across in Santiago, though, proved to be much different… (The media is lying!! Goes to show how much control media has over suppression of voices!!) At first it was just me noticing that the metro was shut down, but as I walked around I realized that several storefronts appeared to be burnt down and demolished, while many others were just closed mid-day. The further I walked, I started to feel the energy around me shift — people were looking around cautiously, mostly everyone had a bandana covering their mouth and nose, and some people had large rocks in their hands. I needed to cross through a park to get to where I needed to be for my tourist sightseeing, but quickly stopped as I heard yelling. A group of 20 or so people my age were shouting at a military tank, taunting the police to come after them, hurling their rocks and then making a run for it. The police in full military gear with a helmet and face guard chased after these kids, and friends yelled from opposite directions to provide a distraction. I watched this scene for ten minutes until I decided to find a roundabout way to get to my destination, but as I got to the main square, I realized these protesters extended throughout the city center and I had just walked into the midst of it.

Maybe a hundred people were spread out, everyone with a mask or bandana covering their face, which I assumed was to protect their identity…. until I suddenly got hit with an awful sensation of my eyes burning and couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. I was coughing and sneezing just like everyone around me and realized we were being tear gassed!!! What an insane feeling… to be physically targeted by the police for fighting for your rights… to recognize that these people have been on the streets for two months risking their lives… that over 20 protesters have been killed so far, and that dozens more have been marked by police leaving them with one eye… the courage, the bravery of these people really hit me… I had never seen any protest of this extent in person, and to see people fighting for their rights was incredibly inspirational.