I have been extremely fortunate: friendships have led me through magical doors.
Such was the case when a dear percussionist friend introduced me to a Brazilian guitarist and singer he was working with. Loved the music: sultry, sensual. Earthy.
It did not take long to meet their surrounding friends that were also Brazilian, and in particular Mestre Esquilo. (or "Squirrel")
I met him as "Bruno" on a lovely spring day where my friends were performing outside at a local venue.. He was delightful, outgoing and thoroughly engaging. He was also extremely fit, and an older (somewhat inebriated woman) grabbed his butt on more than one occasion. He handled it all with laughter and a smile and in the course of our conversation, he invited me to come to the
Brazilian Art Center in Charlotte the following Monday to a beginners class for Capoeira. "What is it?" I asked, ignorant. "Just come and see...wear exercise clothes, OK?" was his reply.
I had no idea what I was agreeing to, but thought "Why not?" and Monday (to his surprise) I was there.
I entered a space filled with colorful murals of Brazil and Charlotte...somewhat reminiscent of a Marc Chagall lithograph. That was a huge plus: a positive vibe to greet me in color and art is a great first impression.
What followed was an hour of the most intense exercise I've had in my life. It started out easily enough. Laps around the room in a light run followed by a few other warm ups.
Then I was introduced to "
Ginga".
It is the base of all things Capoeira. A simple enough movement, but one that requires balance and strength.
"
Ginga 1000 times" is a saying heard first that day, and there are T-shirts out there proclaiming its worthiness. Perfecting that move, making it beautiful and balanced is not as easy as I thought...I must say I have two left feet in many ways, and although I wear the highest heels imaginable with grace and style, that does not mean I can dance or move gracefully elsewhere. So I took the challenge and did my best. Keeping the correct arm up to protect the face was critical. And sometimes I felt like a very awkward teenager going through the motions.
Gradually a few other movements were added-each in repetitive segments to help muscle memory and to learn the basics correctly. The
negativa is a defensive move to "negate" the attack from the other player. There are many variations, but the key- always - learn the basics. The rest will follow. After a year and a half, the basics are still the most crucial element of Capoeira. The
cocorinha is a simple low squat, (well, not so simple the first day and at times even now) but requires balance and attention to protecting the face and watching the opponent.
Esquiva, is an escape, and there are many forms, all requiring strength and balance.
Without throwing a kick, I was learning that watching, moving, protecting oneself was all basic knowledge and movement, and I had much to learn.
I'm not a kid and the muscles did not scream, but they were not familiar with the movements. I was not totally out of condition: Yoga was my exercise of choice, and I still love it. But it is a totally different discipline. Yoga really is a completely self contained form of meditation and exercise.
Capoeira is not. Capoeira requires others to play and to progress. It is a Brazilian Martial Art based in culture. It is music, movement, dance, song. It is a group art form, performed in
roda, or a circle, where two players come together to test their skills, surrounded by other players who sing and clap to the music sung in Portuguese with strange new instruments like the
berimbau to lead us. The music aspect was especially appealing to me, and I was determined to give it my best effort.
After 50 minutes we were brought into a circle, a
roda. OK, I am a fairly confidant woman, but the first
roda was more than a bit intimidating- and then : it wasn't! Mestre sang, and Reba was the first to "play" with me. I had watched her play with others, and she was, and still is amazing. Small, compact and really strong. A powerful dancer's body, with all the grace you can imagine and more. "Slow" Mestre said, and we crouched across from one another and she smiled, we began our play with the
au (which is a cartwheel) into a
ginga. Reba kept her eyes locked on mine, and indicated by eye and head movement what I should be doing. An
esquiva from me when she performed a graceful
meia-lua de Frente. Somewhere inside I felt this calm energy and adrenalin surge and I managed a clumsy
bencao or two and
armada too I recall. But Reba made me feel as though I was truly a part of the game, and she remains one of my favorite people to play today. She was patient and kind then, and her ability to encourage new students remains...oh, and she can kick the butt of anyone in
roda. She is magnificent to watch, and a challenge to play. And she challenges me every time, to be better, to try harder.
I also played with Mestre that day. He knew me from my first
au to my last
ginga in
roda. He saw the fire in my eyes and asked "You like?" and I answered "I Love!"
Perhaps obsession more correct. I trained as often as possible. and had accelerated to nearly 5 times a week
It was all consuming. And that was not a bad thing. I was working toward achieving my first goal: Batizado , or baptism in the art. By August I was ready. I studied the sequences and every session was more than exciting as I felt my own strength and confidence grow. And then, I received my first cord. Green. I became a Capoerista that day.
It brought a new measure of confidence to my play that I never expected. I still had much to learn, but I was filled with the love of the game. And then, training came to a complete halt. on October 16th, an injury suffered outside of training forced me to stop all activity. I had 86 sessions under my belt. And it came to a crashing halt. The desire to train never left- the ability to do so was another story. For months I was sidelined. my heart was breaking and I knew I had to do something, so I went to Mestre Esquilo. He knew how much I wanted to get back to train, we discussed what I would do, what I could do. And then he developed a new training program for me. He combined capoeira and tai chi and coined it "Tai-Choeira". My training was excruciatingly slow. I would leave and climb into my vehicle and weep. I watched beginners who started well after I received my first cord progressing by leaps and bounds. The hole in my heart was widening as my days and months away from active training increased. I needed to be there, my heart and mind wanted to be there, my spirit wanted to be there...my body screamed at me. "Slow" said Mestre. "Don't worry about doing anything- just come and sing and be here with us". And I did. I went when I could not play, and I used my voice to be part of the game. Just being in the same room with the others gave me strength and healing. Playing in roda was my next goal. I did Tai Choeira at home, trying to regain my lower body strength. And nearly sixteen months after my life was put on hold, I cried when I realized I was not able to continue. I still can't play Capoeria Angola: my wrist won't allow it and my doctor said "no". I adjust.
I have much to learn...but I love it so
I am adapting my weaknesses into strengths. I am growing. "Slow" yes Mestre...slow is good. As of this writing, I had trained (at an academy setting) 134 times. When I was told I could not play at all, my heart burned with the desire to get back into
roda, Life brings challenges, I counted every session until I was told "no". But the day will come when 1000 will be realized.
Years ago I walked into the
Brazilian Art Center without a clue.
I quickly learned what makes my heart beat faster. I learned that the strength I found in training helped me move through days when I could not train. I learned to change due to circumstances around me in ways that I never thought I could. Like all of us, I have my good days and bad days in
roda, but I always appreciate the respect that is shown to those of lessor ability by those who are much more advanced. It is also a part of the code we as capoeiristas must follow. To help those that are new, to encourage each other, to work together as a family. And Family is a perfect description. Every time we walk into the BAC, it is like walking into a family reunion...hugs and teasing and laughter.
We celebrate birthdays together, joy together and help each with burdens. And we play: Hard. And we grow: together. And we care for each other in ways that a real family does.
Yes, I paused counting, I am still hopeful that the day of healing will come...that I will be able to put weight on my hands without a wrist collapsing.
I was told I was forever optimistic. Its true. Someday I shall return to play in roda. Simply being among other Capoeiristas is healing: yet the pill is a bitter one when you know you can not get into that circle and focus on the rhythm of the music and the movement of the opponent. Those are days of tears and heartbreak. Losing that part of my life is unbearable, but hope springs eternal. For now, at least dancing forro and samba will have to suffice.
Our Capoeira family is huge. It expands the globe. It embraces all religions, all cultures, all races, all people. At our recent International Capoeira Festival held in Charlotte, NC, the world came to us. From Russia, Israel, Canada, South America. Tens of Thousands of us practice capoeira, and we are united in the belief that there are no borders, no groups, no egos. They are never allowed to enter our gatherings. I'd like to name every one who has inspired me, but I don't want to miss a single one, as everyone who has ever stepped into roda has done that...every one is stitched in the fiber of my being: especially our Charlotte Capoeira family.
We are blessed to have
Mestre Esquilo here. He is extraordinary.
His talent is legendary. He travels the world by invitation. He brings his passion, his spirit, his energy, his AXE' to every event, every
roda. We love and respect him because that is what he gives us every day. His wife Glauciele Santana not only plays capoeira, but teaches forro, traditional Brazilian dance. and Brazilian Samba. She is a singer, an actress, an amazing mom. She is joy and fire. She is also a surgeon...she was able to fix my two left feet and now I have a left and right foot and I can really dance forro! She is also a dear and treasured friend. Their three children (triplets) are beloved, and we are all Tia & Tio to them. They are growing up accepting everyone, not judging.
We see the promise of a better world in the eyes of the children of other capoeiristas too. It is the beauty of a world we always knew it could be...and it exists in our hearts and in the faces of all at Charlotte Capoeira, CDO Charlotte.
I am a Capoeirista.
Watch out world: Capoeira is the art of Peace.
If this is a harbinger of things to come, "Southern Blood" set to drop September 8th, will be remarkable. 
