Image from Projeto BIRA

“Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had a strong desire to travel all over Brazil, to get to know its diverse realities firsthand. When I’d travel with my parents, my eyes fixated on the landscape passing by, and I’d imagine myself visiting each little house on the side of the highway. I’d invent names and destinies for those kids with barefoot bodies whose eyes gazed into the wind, and for those old folks with crooked canes who spent hours on crooked benches in the shade of jacaranda trees . . . The childhoods and games in each place I passed were what always attracted me the most.”
- Renata Meirelles, How it all Began, Projeto BIRA (Brincadeiras Infantis da Região Amazônica or Children’s Games in the Amazon Region)

A few years ago - when I was getting started with BRINQ - I was thrilled to come across the work of Renata Meirelles and David Reeks, a Brazilian American couple that was working hard to document and share the toys and games of the Brazilian Amazon. Their stories of what they discovered and shared were truly inspirational and I had hoped to meet up with them on one of their trips back to the U.S. Unfortunately the timing didn’t work out and I have since moved on to other projects, leaving my task of building a global toy chest sadly neglected. However a recent discussion on the Omidyar Network about recycled crafts and toys sent me looking for David and Renata’s work once again and I was delighted to see what they’ve been doing in all this time.

BRINQ - A juggling workshop in Urucureá, Amazônia

Just how have they been keeping busy? Two short films, a number of film festival appearances and awards, dozens of presentations about Amazonian toys and play to school children in both the Brazil and the U.S., media coverage, a new website, return trips to the Amazon, and even a new documentary in the works.

Since I first discovered Projeto BIRA, I have been lucky to have made my own short trip to the Brazilian Amazon, where I was able to experience a few of the games and toys children play with in a few riverside communities, as well as sharing a few play activities of our own… some successfully, some not so successfully: FYI, embarrassment is when you can’t remember how a game of duck duck goose ends. However, Renata and David spent more than 8 months visiting 16 communities in the Amazon - playing the whole way - and the depth of their work is at a whole other level: truly inspirational.

• Visit the Projecto BIRA website at http://projetobira.com
• Watch a short video of Projeto BIRA’s work

Previous story (2005): A Playful Exchange - O Projeto BIRA

“Every time a shaman dies, it is as if a library burned down.” - Mark J. Plotkin, PhD

The old caboclo woman stopped abruptly in her explanation of the plant in her hand and stared to the back of our group, at the tall, sun-browned, shirtless man who had just stepped into her garden.  “Ele é índio?” the old midwife asked excitedly, “ele entende muito de plantas, ervas, remédios?!” The newcomer had been just about to snap a photo of the scene but the force of old woman’s reaction startled him into almost dropping his camera. He turned to my girlfriend Amber and I with a confused look, “What did she just say?” 

I chuckled out loud and translated for him while Amber explained to the old woman that no, our friend Kenny was neither a “native” nor from the jungle, that he was originally from Hong Kong and - as an energy trader on Wall Street – Kenny’s particular knowledge of stocks and plants probably wasn’t quite what the old woman was hoping for. The midwife’s mistake was easy enough to understand though: a dark brown, muscular man with long raven-black hair, Kenny looked like a piece of history stepping out of the jungle. In fact, most of the people we had met during our weeklong tour of riverside communities had made the same mistake about Kenny’s heritage.  What surprised me instead about the old midwife’s reaction was that even though practically a medicine woman herself - born and raised in the Amazon - she still seemed desperate to pump an outsider for his knowledge of local plants and medicines.

The entrance to Cachoeira do Aruã [click to enlarge]

That incident took place in Cachoeira do Aruã, a small community by the Arapiuns river, west of Santarem, Brazil. Like most of the river communities in the Brazilian Amazon, Cachoeira’s population consists primarily of caboclo: the Brazilian term for a person of mixed indigenous and European descent.  I later learned that that no truly indigenous cultures are believed to still exist in the Brazilian Amazon. I also learned that as the indigenous populations had slowly disappeared or mixed with European settlers, much of the local knowledge had also disappeared, in particular the cultures’ understanding of local plants and medicines.  Outsiders brought in new knowledge and medicines and the local solutions faded back into the jungle: the knowledge to apply those solutions lost with the culture that had once developed them. All of that explains why the midwife had been so excited to see Kenny: he looked like a link to a culture and knowledge that had been lost.

A week after returning from the Amazon, I picked up a copy of ethnobotanist Mark Plotkin’s Tales of a Shaman’s Apprentice, a book published in 1993 that chronicled Plotkin’s fifteen-year effort to discover and record local medicines in the Amazon. After my own short trip visiting communities there, Tales of a Shaman’s Apprentice captivated me: the book is a beautifully written account of an outsider’s respectful quest to record an ancient and important local knowledge and culture. To have seen face-to-face what Plotkin had feared - the loss of local and diverse solutions in communities that needed them - gave me a lot to think about in terms of our own business forays into communities and cultures in the Base of the Pyramid. In particular, Plotkin’s story highlights a number of important lessons for people working with communities in the BoP.

Lesson 1: Practice humility

Dr. Richard E. Schultes, Plotkin’s old advisor, gave the following description about his former student:

Because he went there to learn from the Indians, [Mark] was able to collect plants, participate in ceremonies and rituals, and share other experiences as few outsiders have been able to do.  One of Mark’s outstanding qualities as field ethnobotanist is his conviction that among the Indians, he is the student and they are teacher.

Cornell’s Erik Simanis, learning Swahili in the Kibera [click to enlarge]

I find one of the hardest hats to remove while working with communities in the BoP is the hat of an expert. Entering a BoP community can be unsettling and it’s easy to cling to the image of being an expert or a teacher in order to feel more secure. On the flip side, BoP communities are used to outsiders coming in to tell them what to do, and many have learned to give the “best answers” to gain whatever reward outsiders might be offering (grants, loans, jobs, services, etc.). This upper-to-lower dynamic makes it extremely difficult to learn what actually goes on in a community, much less build a new business together.  To overcome this requires us to level the playing field and to engineer humility into our engagements, so that communities can understand that outsiders have strengths and weaknesses just like they do.  And as Plotkin demonstrates, one of the best ways to demonstrate humility is to actually go live with a community. There’s nothing like demonstrating how bad you are at a common local task to show people that you’re human.

As part of the Base of the Pyramid Protocol (BoP), my colleagues and I do homestays with families in the communities that we work with; the resulting trust, respect, and knowledge that blossoms from those homestays is nothing short of incredible.  Given that experience, it has always amazed me how rarely well-meaning outsiders conduct homestays, this despite the huge number of NGOs that already operate in those communities. Instead the message that many NGOs and businesses convey to communities seems to be this, “We’re here to transform you, not be transformed ourselves.” 

Lesson 2: Make it relevant

Teaching about plants in the Shamans and Apprentices program. ©ACT

On the other hand, even while practicing humility it’s important to demonstrate to the community that what you’re doing is relevant to them, that you have knowledge and strengths that can help them (just like they have knowledge and strengths to help you).   To gain the local chiefs’ approval to study with the communities’ shamans, Plotkin had to convince the chiefs that 1) he knew what he was doing, 2) he wasn’t there to exploit them (or to fool around with their women) and 3) his work would create value for the community.  As a result of Plotkin’s work, the Tirio communities of Suriname now have a handbook of their own medicinal plants in the Tirio language (the only other book in Tirio being the Bible).  Plotkin also set up the Shamans and Apprentices program, a program to support and encourage young people to study under the old shamans and carry on their traditions.  Both these acts helped preserve the shamanistic knowledge of the community, which created tremendous value for the community and for Plotkin’s own work as an ethnobotanist. Often it takes time to figure how to best make your work relevant to community, but if you base your work on on what they have and what you have, on what they need and what you need, then you’re much more likely to be relevant. Your chances of success are also much higher if you don’t lock onto a solution before actually spending significant time in a community.

Lesson 3: Open up

Taking part in the local life of a community is a great way to build trust and relationships; it’s also a great way to see things you never would have otherwise.  During his stays in Amazon communities, Plotkin set aside the idea of being a dispassionate observer and tried to participate in local activities and events as much as he could.  Sometimes this meant trying his hand at fishing (using local plant chemicals, bows, and arrows), sometimes this meant snorting the local intoxicant, sometimes this meant partaking in local healing rituals, and often this meant being the brunt of many jokes.  The relationships and knowledge Plotkin gained as a result of his open participation formed the foundation for many of his discoveries of new plants and medicines.  How much you participate as an outsider depends on how much you’re willing to do, but I know from my own experiences that the more that I participate with and open up to a particular community, the more the community opens itself up to me.

Lesson 4: Preserve the local soil

In the Amazon, thousands of years of accumulated knowledge of local medicines and plants has been lost. The opportunity to use that knowledge to create sustainable economies to conserve and grow the Amazon has disappeared - possibly forever - largely because the glitz of the Western alternative seemed so much brighter than the local solution. Plotkin documents this trend in the communities he visited: as Western missionaries and NGOs came in to teach local communities “better” ways to live, but ultimately made the communities dependent on a system that they had little leverage or strength in. Having traded in a deep expertise in their local knowledge to become novices in Western ones, is it any wonder that some communities feel like they can never catch up?

Plotkin reminds us that to preserve local traditions and solutions (and the Amazon itself), efforts have to be made to both conserve old methods and to make those methods relevant to the modern world. At the end of Tales, Plotkin describes a number of his activities to preserve and promote the local knowledge of shamans in the Amazon.  Although the initial business attempt that came out of Plotkin’s work has since foundered (Shaman Pharmaceuticals, which gave up on commercializing drugs based on Amazon plants due to the difficulty of meeting US FDA demands), his work continues via the Amazon Conservation Team, an organization focused on conservation through partnerships with communities in the Amazon. For companies looking to do business in BoP communities, Plotkin’s experience reminds us to be thoughtful before rushing to replace local solutions with outside ones.  After all, silver bullets rarely work like we expect them to and often kill off the sheep in lieu of the wolf. In contrast, a local solution might form the basis of a future innovation or competitive advantage, but that can only happen if local solutions are encouraged not just to survive, but to blossom and to grow.

Summary: a great read for the Amazon and the BoP

In addition to all the above, Tales of a Shaman’s Apprentice is just a good read, with beautiful descriptions and historical anecdotes of the Amazon.  Plotkin is quick to point out when he made mistakes with communities, but you also see how quickly he tries to learn and make up for them.  And although the book is now over ten year’s old, his coverage of the history and challenges of the region makes Tales a required reading for anyone looking to work with BoP communities in the Amazon.  And for anyone who’d like to experience living in BoP communities through another person’s eyes - to feel all the tribulations, traumas, and triumphs such work entails – Mark Plotkin’s “Tales of a Shaman’s Apprentice” is highly recommended.

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Additional Resources

• Mark J Plotkin, Phd - English Wikipedia entry
• Amazon Conservation Team - working in partnership with indigenous people in conserving biodiversity, health, and culture in tropical America.
• USAID - Hydropower Energizes Remote Village - Cachoeira do Aruã (literally, Waterfall of the Aruã) was the recipient of a USAID energy pilot project. I got to take a tour of their 50-KW energy facilities while I was there.
• Projeto Bagagem - (in Portuguese) - a community- and cultural-exchange-focused tourism project in Brazil, with whom I visited Cachoeira do Aruã and other communities along the Tapajós and Arapiuns rivers.
• Saude e Alegria - (in Portuguese) - a communtity health and happiness NGO based in Santarem, Brazil, also with whom I visited communities in the Amazon.

This article is part of the BRINQ BoP Books Discussions series. Follow the link to read about the series and find other books.

Everyone knows what it’s like… you’ve got stack of postcards, a head full of great experiences and even with all your best intentions, you just get too caught up in what you’re doing to write it all down and pop them in the mail. Well writing posts can be the same way, so here’s a belated summary of the last six months in India and Brazil. India and the BoP Protocol In April, my colleague Erik Simanis (of Cornell) and I headed out to India to guide the Solae Company in its implementation of the Base of the Pyramid Protocol. The initiative is being run by Enterprise for a Sustainable World (for whom I’m a senior consultant) and Cornell University’s SGE (with Stu Hart, Duncan Duke, et al.) The project is in the state of Andhra Pradesh, India and we are conducting implementations of the Protocol in two different sites, the Indiramma Nagar slums of Hyderabad and in villages in the Parvathagiri mandal of Warangal District. The initial phase of the implementation involved a seven member team and was conducted over a 16 week period from April 16 to July 30, 2006, which included an 11 week in-field immersion period and a 5 week data gathering and business concept development period. This is the second implementation of the BoP Protocol, the first being the 2005 pilot with SC Johnson in Kenya (also involving me, Erik, and others from Cornell). Highlights of the India immersion include: weeks of 45+ degree C weather followed by weeks of monsoon rains; working with close to 100 different community members (90% women) across the two sites; a week-long homestay with a generous Muslim family (of 8) in their one room house in the Indiramma Nagar slum cluster; weeks living in Parvathagiri village and dining on spicy local cuisine (lots of burning ears and teary eyes); eating a lifetime’s worth of rice and then a lifetime’s more; learning to eat rice, dal, curry, and all sorts of sloppy tasty things with my right hand; playing homemade games with the kids (which I always lost) and cruising around (by rickshaw, car, or foot) with the local youths; teaching English idioms to a generous and self-taught Muslim youth and friend; running 15 Participatory Rural Appraisal sessions, 17 entrepreneurship and business development workshops, and dozens of meetings and interviews with community groups; mangling both Hindi and Telegu - Urdu too; attending both Hindu and Muslim weddings; discovering ancient temples, trees that ooze the local brew (toddy), and the simple yet engrossing joy of lightbulbs, insect hatches, and hungry geckos; being irate at controlling husbands, furious with self-appointed elites, frustrated by saviour-type mentalities, and humbled by too-wise children; “mexican” mariachi bands singing Simon & Garfunkel, Donald Duck ventriloquists at the Buddha, karaoke dancing, and daytime coffee shops that are more like night clubs… recognizing what a local weirdo I am for not getting any of it; being simultaneously overwhelmed and awed by the sheer press of India’s culture and populace, catching a glimpse of the weight of a world full with people. These projects are intense, no two ways about it, but they’re transformational too. My thanks to Padma, Ravi, Shweta, Sonika, Paul, Srini, Murali, Nanda, Padmaja, Indira, Klavathi, Muneer and so many more who made the project a success and at times a true joy. And of course to Erik, who’s not only the brains behind the Protocol, but its driving energy as well… the man doesn’t need sleep. Finally, I will always remember the final night in the home of Sheik Baba and Sultana, when I had just presented my host family with a few packs of crayons and coloring books. An early monsoon rain had come and the alleys in the slum were flooded, water was leaking through the corrugated steel roof, yet everyone in the family was coloring - father, mother, grandmother, sons, daughters and nieces - everyone was intent, everyone was smiling. It was beautiful. The Protocol work with Solae in India is continuing, with several business concepts having come out of the immersion. Erik has already returned once to India and I’ll be going back in December, while a team on the ground is being assembled to pilot the businesses. Brazil e BRINQ I’ve been back in Rio de Janeiro since August and although I continue to assist the Protocol projects in India, my focus is turning once more back to Brazil. I have been working as a Development Advisor for Catalytic Communities (of whom much has been written on this site) while also pitching proposals for the BoP Protocol to companies here in Brazil. BRINQ as a business concept, to assist and support local innovators of toys and play, is still being thought through, but little practically is being done as I focus on other opportunies. However BRINQ as a place to share stories and promote local stories is still very much alive. Look for more of that to come from the BRINQ Workshop once again - there is a backlog of stories from India and elsewhere. In late January I’ll be going on a trip to the Amazon with Projeto Bagagem visiting communities along the river over a week-long tour. Since I first started in this line of work, I’ve always dreamed of visiting the Amazon and getting to know more of the communities in the interior of Brazil. Realizing a dream is a beautiful thing. I’m so lucky to get to do what I do. -Patrick A few links: Project Brief on the Solae BoP Protocol implementation India photosets on Flickr BoP Protocol in India Set 1 BoP Protocol in India Set 2 BoP Protocol in India Set 3 BoP Protocol in India Set 4

To the casual observer, it may seem like we haven’t doing much with toys lately here at BRINQ! However, though we HAVE been pretty busy, we’ve had our eyes at everywhere for new toys and innovations at all things play. Everywhere being Brazil, Kenya, the U.S., and of course the Internet.

Here are a few of the toys we’ve come across in the Base of the Pyramid.

	Toys Cars Kids love cars, and they love to play with model cars the world over. Most of the cars we saw were made with scavenged metal wire for the frame, rubber bands for the joints, and cut up sandals for the wheels. A long metal rod with a steering wheel on the end (attached to an axel on the front wheels) allows kids to race their cars around the streets, including lots of popular makes and models: Corvettes, Land Rovers, Jeep, VW Bugs and more. See also the Gallery at Stome.net, Jungle Photos, StreetPlay.com for more.
	Animated wireframe figures We came across wireframe push toys on our first trip out to the Rift Valley in Kenya, then later encountered them throughout Kibera and the other slums of Nairobi. Similar to the wireframe care except with moving parts, rotating wheels on the bottom cause the figure on top to move, a bird to flap its wings, and man to ride its horse. Often the wire would be wrapped in bright thread to give the figure a costume. Check out a number of these toys at ToyResearch on Blogspot.
	BottleCap Toys We ecountered lots of bottlecaps during our time in Kenya, especially the days we spent sorting trash with the Kibera Youth Self Help Group. We also came across a few bottlecap toys, some fishing line or wire and you can make snakes, action figures, and more. Check out FolkArtPlus and WorldPlay.org for more examples.
	Soccer/Football Soccer is one of the most loved sports in the Base of the Pyramid. Every kid dreams of being the next Pele or David Beckham, drafted to play for their favorite English Premier League team like Manchester United or Arsenal. Soccer balls are expensive though, so most kids have come up with an ingenious solution using a commonly donated item… condoms! Wrap a blown up condom in a plastic bag and lots of string, and you’re on your way to the Premiere league! Check out the film “The Ball” at DayZero.co.za
	Anything with a wheel An old bicycle inner tube, a barrel wheel, or even a wheel off a car… if it’s round and rollable kids will play with it! Often we’d see kids in Kenya running behind a rolling tire, pushing it along with a tap of a stick while being chased by other kids. An easy to make toy and mobile too.

“I’d love to hear your impressions,” Theresa said to me as we boarded the bus outside of Rocinha, “about what you think of the communities here vs. where you lived in Kenya.” Here was Rio de Janiero, Brazil and in Kenya was Kibera, a million-person shantytown in Nairobi, where I had just spent the previous three months living and working. Theresa and I were catching a bus to the outskirts of Rio for a visit with local community leaders and to spend a “Day in the Community”, a regular event that brings together children and neighbors from six of Rio’s favelas, Brazil’s illegal communities. Theresa and I found a seat as the bus lurched forward and I sat there wondering about her request. What preconceptions had living in an African slum given me about a South American one?

The bus picked up speed and Rocinha faded into the distance. I leaned back into the seat and rubbed the palms of my hands over my face; my head was in a whirl, not just from the warm Brazilian hospitality and strong caipirinhas of my night out before but also from the eclectic route we were taking through Rio. We had started our trip in the beautiful and trendy neighborhood of Jardim Botânico, with lush green mountains and inland lagoon, switched buses in front of Rocinha, the Americas’ largest squatter city with its two hundred thousand residents and overflowing hillside houses, and were on our way to Asa Branca, a twenty year old favela I knew nothing about, yet somehow had inadvertently impacted months before. Theresa looked at me for a moment and gave my shoulder a squeeze, sensing if not understanding my confusion. I let my hands fall back to my lap and I smiled back at her, relaxing a little before turning my gaze back to the passing communities.

Theresa Williamson is the founder and executive director of Catalytic Communities (CatComm), a Washington D.C. and Rio based organization that creates spaces to empower community leaders. These spaces, both physical and virtual, are designed to share solutions and foster new relationships, in the process growing a local/global network that catalyzes community development and engagement. I never could have predicted that a chance encounter with Theresa nine months before in San Francisco would draw me into this world-changing network. However, CatComm’s mission of creating connections is mirrored in Theresa’s personality and so it was no real surprise that here I was, stepping off the bus onto a dusty street corner in a Brazilian favela with Asa Branca’s community leader, Carlos “Bezerra” Costa, reaching out his arms to greet me like an old friend. The strangest part of it all was that despite this being my first visit to Asa Branca, I knew that I had already been there. I had Theresa and CatComm to thank for that.

Bezerra quickly started us on a walking tour of the neighborhood and I began making comparisons between Asa Branca and Kibera. My first impression was that most Kiberans would be thrilled to live in a place like Asa Branca. Sure, like Kibera there were some scrap metal shacks for homes and a river with overflowing garbage behind the community, however mixed in amongst it all were charming, locally built houses, one and two story structures of cement or wood with red clay tiled roofs and green gardens in front. Even the shacks had potted plants hanging on their outer walls, the level of care bearing no relation to the quality of the building material. And, trash-laden river aside, the community was clean and the streets were smooth, there were no open sewage trenches and we’d even see the occasional parked car and speed bumps. This is what Kibera could be like if allowed to develop, I thought.

As we walked down dusty white streets past houses, stores and bars, I noticed that Bezerra would introduce Theresa to the people on the street as “a member of my family”, each introduction provoking Theresa to flash a warm smile. Theresa explained to me that the engagement with Bezerra and Asa Branca is one of CatComm’s longest running relationships; Theresa has personally been documenting the community’s development for years and Bezerra is a regular visitor to the Casa do Gestor Catalisador, CatComm’s community hub in Rio. Asa Branca is a great example of how a community can solve its own problems: while the city government ignored it, Asa Branca organized to install its own community sewage system and to raise its streets against flooding. That project and others are documented in detail in CatComm’s Community Solutions Database, available in three languages at http://www.CatComm.org/ The database is one of CatComm’s most important tools and is the main draw to the organization, but the power of Catalytic Communities is not just captured in the solutions found on its website, nor just in the Casa where community leaders meet. Actually, what CatComm does is only a fraction of what it creates, evident in the fact that I was now sitting down to have lunch with Bezerra and his family.

Allow me to explain.

(more…)

I’ve been very happy with how far my Portuguese has come, especially after having been gone from Brazil for so long, yet my ability to communicate here is like being able to swim in a gentle sea, quando as coisas estão tranquilas, tudo bom! (When things are calm, all is good!) But while sitting in on CatComm’s open forum, a meeting for feedback from community partners and constituents, I experienced a very different world of linguistic aquatics; visualize the crashing waves at Ipanema, Brazil’s most famous of beaches, where the people are beautiful but the weak stay out of the water.

Last night, a dozen of us met inside the Casa do Gestor Catalisador, CatComm’s home and technology hub in Rio, located on the edge of the downtown, in a historic district by the bay and the center of the old slave trade. Around us on the Casa walls, on mounted wood or printed t-shirts, hung windows into the world of the favelas, the works of Brazilian photographer Maurício Hora, a man with an incredible capacity to capture the spirit of place on film. Maurício sat to my left, Theresa to my right, the rest were spread out in a circle around the room, community leaders and artists, passionate Brazilians all; not quite what my beach and bar Portuguese had prepared me for.

It wasn’t so bad at first, when Theresa began speaking I was able to follow along, she had prepped me before hand (in English) about the proposal she would present, about CatComm’s new strategy for partners and growth. Muito tranquilo. However once people started responding, once bodies leaned forward and hands started churning, my bearings slipped out from under me and the sea became choppy. At times I would grasp the topic of the conversation and understand its flow, but then just as suddenly a new wave of words, sounds, and Brazilian passion would descend upon me, and my head would be plunged into the deep, tumbling out of control and comprehension lost, finally clawing my way to the surface only to think “Meu Deus, como a gente veio pra cá” “How the heck did we end up here?”

The Brazilian love of talking on top of one another means a whole different set of cultural cues apply here, how do you tell if someone is staying civil and respectful, how do you tell what is a constructive conflict and what is not? Brazilians are a passionate people and many debate with animation and emotion, loudly at times, which are all traits that I can relate well to. How many times in Kenya did it appear that Erik and I were about to come to blows, when in fact, we were only just getting warmed up?

However it’s clear that for us to do Protocol work here, guiding a creative collision of world-views, will require a lot of preparation, both in our language and in our ability to train and support other people. The language barrier makes proactive leadership absolutely necessary. I can continue to improve my Portuguese, but the only effective way forward is to make sure that more appropriate people know what they’re doing and supporting them, there’s no other choice. Which, if you think about it, is really the only way our work in the Base of the Pyramid can come alive, working with others, training new people, supporting them, and then to some degree, letting go. It’s hard to imagine us doing here exactly what we did in Kenya: Erik, and I directly facilitating exercises and discussions. Here we would have to plan for miscommunication, slow down for better understanding. Though in truth we did not always understand what was going on in Kenya either, our Kiswahili was worse than my Portuguese, and patience was always key.

It’s funny to think about what has become one the defining aspects of my life, the constant search for uncomfortable situations and new things to be ignorant about. There’s something a little crazy about that, something a little strange about someone who has to go so far from what he knows to find meaningful work, to feel content yet not comfortable. I suppose it’s all a search for meaning and growth and as Erik loves to say, “If what you’re doing feels comfortable, then you’re probably not doing something new!” Optimal ignorance is another phrase we love to throw around: optimal is when you know enough to be respectful, but not enough to know what is impossible. You’re able to do things in someone else’s backyard that you could never do in your own. You just don’t know enough not to try. A clueless gringo has his uses after all, but at the very least he does need to learn to keep his head above the water.

Time to go swimming again.

***

Notes for the unfamiliar:

• Theresa -> Theresa Williamson, founder and executive director of Catalytic Communities
• CatComm -> Catalytic Communities, an amazing organization in Rio that provides spaces for community leaders to meet and exchange ideas, both physical spaces (the Casa) and virtual spaces (http://www.CatComm.org), inpsiring and empowering a global network of community leaders and solutions.
• Favela -> a Brazilian slum or shanty town, the word’s origins are from a particular slum in Rio, the first, historically known as Morro da Favela, but today known as Morro do Providência, where photographer Maurício Hora was born and raised. To view Maurício’s work visit http://www.favelarte.com/ An exposition of Maurício’s work is currently on display at CatComm’s Casa in Rio.
• Erik -> Erik Simanis, Co-Director of the Base of the Pyramid Protocol and team leader of the Protocol pilot team in Kenya
• Protocol -> Base of the Pyramid Protocol, a process by which multinational companies can engage poor communities to form new partnerships and to co-create new business opportunities for the communities and the company. For more on the protocol and pilot see http://www.bop-protocol.org and http://www.BRINQ.com/kenya/
• Me -> Patrick Donohue, a recovering computer scientist and MBA, refugee from the rapid to riches dot-com culture, and member of the BoP Protocol pilot test in Kenya; in Brazil to write a case study of Catalytic Communities and to practice swimming in Portuguese.

A toy designer and BRINQ advisor talked to us yesterday about his recent trip to volunteer in Nicaragua. He shared a number of observations on children there:

"Kids seemed more interested in clothing than toys, we met a lot of people who were much better dressed than we were but who also happened to sleep on dirt floors. Kids wanted better shoes for playing sports and most never had a pair of tennis shoes in their life. But what every child really seemed to want was a bicycle! However, most couldn’t afford them."

If you have spent much time in developing countries, chances are you have seen A LOT of bicycles. I have very vivid memories of crossing through a river of bicycle traffic in Saigon (the trick is to walk slow and steady so they can dodge you) and seeing whole families on a single bike in central Viet Nam. Bicycles are the workhorses of many societies, and it’s no wonder that children want the freedom and mobility bikes represent.

So this got us started on the subject of innovation for bicycles in the Base of the Pyramid. Have people found ways to make bicycles more accesible and useful for the world’s poor? Here are few examples we came across (and don’t forget our previous find of a bicycle that rides on water).

Brazilian inventor, Flavio Deslandes, has invented a bamboo bicycle (Bambucicleta, pictured right):

"Bamboo is a resource of immense potential. And it is strong too. What makes it possible to build bicycles from it is that it is stronger than steel when strained in the longitudinal direction, 17% to be exact."

"This is going to be a revolution: the bicycle wheel made out of bamboo. There is steel in the assemblies of my bicycles. But unlike everything else that is made out of bamboo - for instance the furniture that you talked about - the steel used here serves the bamboo, not the other way around. I use bamboo in its natural form in the bicycle. If you start bending it, drilling holes in it or you put nails or spikes into it you’ll weaken the structure”

"But I keep on researching in order to find even more replacements for the metal parts. This wheel here is one hundred percent bamboo: Rims and hub are made out of laminated bamboo and the spokes are made out of straight bamboo sticks. I also work on being able to produce pedals and pedal arms in bamboo,” Flavio says proudly.

SSAC reports an article from the Calcutta Telegraph about Dodhi Pathak, an Indian inventor of an almost all bamboo bicycle:

"Like most of the innovators, Pathak, too was driven by necessity. He didn’t have money to buy even a second-hand bicycle, so he built a bicycle out of bamboo. Except for tubes and tyres, which are of standard rubber, the piston, handles and barrels of his bicycle are all made of bamboo."

"Pathak belongs to the breed of inventors who, without a laboratory or research infrastructure, and sometimes without a formal education even, have churned out valuable innovations. In addition to meeting their own needs, those inventions may turn into commercial products for the indian,and perhaps even global markets."

Could there be a market to sell bicycle-making kits? Import the chains, spokes, joints and extra parts and then just add your own frame from locally grown bamboo? Would it be cheaper than just importing the whole bike? We’ll have to wait to hear back from our bamboo expert before answering that one. In the meanwhile check out AfriWheels.org and why there is no bicycle that meets the needs of Africa’s poor.

Additional Stories and Links:

• Two more articles in Portuguese (but with photos) on bamboo bicycles:
  Flavio Deslandes (referenced above)
  Milton Felicissimo - another Brazilian inventor
• Pedals for Progress - recycling the millions of discarded bicycles to places that can use them
• The Bicycling Empowerment Network - promoting bicyle mobility in South Africa
• XAccess, based in bike friendly Berkeley, CA, develops low cost cargo systems for bicycles

Past "Innovation from the Brinq" articles:
Poor People’s Knowledge — India - Innovation Central — Building a Better ATM — Keeping it Cool - Clay Pot Refrigeration

Projeto BIRA (Brincadeiras Infantis da Região Amazônica) is all about playful exchange, an effort to document and share the games and play cultures of Amazonian communities in the north of Brazil:

This project is totally focused on games that are carried out by children, in areas where spontaneity is the principal means of communication and where the forest and its embellishments are the source for materials and challenges that motivate a diverse range of actions. These actions are easily recognized by parents, grandparents, and ancestors who play along in some form, even if it’s only through a look that conveys the recognition: "Ahhh, I know how to play that." [StreetPlay.com]

Brazilian educator Renata Meirelles and American documentary film-maker David Reeks started the project in 2001 with an eight month tour of sixteen marginal communities in the states of Pará, Amapá, Amazonas, Roraima, and Acre, where they lived and played with children of the communities while sharing the toys and games of the other regions in Brazil.

"We recall a little top made from a tucumã seed, painstakingly cut and drilled by children of the Galibi (from Oiapoque) and the Wapichanas (from Roraima). Its spin generates a fascinating scream that can be heard from afar, and it is at least one example of how games open paths that don’t deplete the pleasure and beauty of one’s actions, while leaving conversation open with the cultural, historical and social dialects of each people’s tradition." [StreetPlay.com]

The Project is collecting material and stories to publish a book and a documentary film. In the meanwhile, you can visit the Projeto BIRA website (available in English e em português), which includes a diary of Renata and David’s travels, pictures of games and toys of Amazonia, and letters and drawings from children.

When we last heard from Renata and David in January, they were once again traveling throughout Brazil, no doubt playing all the way!

More images are also available from StreetPlay.com.

In English, to feel "blue" signifies being depressed or sad, but in Portuguese "azul" (blue) signifies the opposite emotions of well-being and happiness. At first glance then, a sea of gray-brown shanty houses and slums seems like the least appropriate place to be named with this color of hope, but the Monte Azul (“Blue Hill”) favela in São Paulo carries the name regardless, and since 1975 the Associacão Monte Azul has been proving that the name fits.

German Ute Craemer was living and teaching in São Paulo, Brazil in 1975 when a young girl from the Monte Azul favela knocked on her door begging for food. The teacher recognized the girl’s needs went beyond food though, so she built a work area in backyard to help meet the needs of those living in the Monte Azul favela. Her backyard workspace would later migrate to the favela and become the Associacão Monte Azul.

Today the Associacão improves the lives of thousands of favelados (favela dwellers) through a number of its services, including basic literacy education, kindergarten and preschool, outpatient clinics, carpentry and electrical workshops, bakeries and toy making facilities. Monte Azul’s toy dolls and wooden educational toys are sold both locally in Brazil and throughout the world, and its “bonecas” (dolls) are popular items in Fair Trade shops.

Several photos of Monte Azul toys are depicted below, with more available from Monte Azul’s product catalog.

Links and Resources:

Associacão Communitario Monte Azul - (Portuguese) (German) - home site in English, Portuguese, and German
The Whole Child Initiative - with a summary of the Monte Azul organization
Favela Children: A Brazilian Diary - Ute’s Craemer’s 1981 book on children’s life in the favela, translated into English and available for download
Ute Craemer - more about the founder

Discarded socks, aluminum cans, and corncobs may look like trash to some, but to nine-year-old Junior of Brazil, they are balls, cars, and dolls in the making. Junior makes toys when he visits the toy library set up by his Christian Children’s Fund project, Federacao Sao Goncalo Do Rio Preto. At the library, he can also play with commercially made toys that his family could not otherwise afford, and learn music, stories and games important to his community and culture. Junior’s participation in the library has helped him develop closer ties with friends and better relationships with his three siblings. According to Obedes Barbosa Soares, CCF Brazil’s program director, toys “play a meaningful role” in a child’s interaction with others. “They are essential for the human being’s emotional, intellectual and physical health,” he said. CCF Brazil began the toy library program in 1999, primarily in rural communities, where access to entertainment and toys is limited. Specially trained child educators run the libraries, which are set up wherever space can be found—rooms inside the project’s headquarters and even outdoor sheds. The libraries are guided by “the culture of the child,” said Soares. “It is the culture of activity, fantasy, discovery and imagination.” Storytellers, and folk song and dance groups regularly appear at the libraries. Luis, a father of three sponsored children, plays guitar for a group called “Folia de Reis” (“Revelry of Kings”) that practices once a week in the local toy library. The group teaches children songs and dances, and reconnects them with their roots. At Christmas time, “Folia de Reis” goes performing door-to-door, to raise money for the poor. CCF-Brazil operates 24 libraries and hopes to open another 25 in 2001. For a relatively small investment, project staff is able to create a space where, according to Soares, “children and adults can share joy, relive their traditions and build a better world.” Copyright 2004. Christian Children’s Fund. All Rights Reserved. – This story was submitted by the Christian Children’s Fund Links and Resources: (English /Inglês) CCF’s Toy Libraries - More about the Toy Libraries CCF Brazil - an overview of CCFs efforts in Brazil Donate a Toy Library - Help build a new toy library or donate to other CCF Projects in a loved ones name. (Portuguese /Português) CCF Brasil - O Fundo Cristão para Crianças e as Brinquedotecas dela. “Brinquedoteca” = “Toy Library”