First day of school

I remember, when I was young, my mother used to take a picture of me on the first day of school every year. During all of elementary and part of middle school, I would stand with my back straight, hair neatly combed, and smile radiantly for the camera. It should come as no surprise, however, that as I transitioned from childhood to adolescence my mother’s ritual seemed intolerable at times and always horribly uncool. But, for good or for bad, family traditions have a way of enduring even the most turbulent teenage years, and so I continued the practice in college, often asking a roommate to snap a shot before class.

Recently, I altered our tradition somewhat by taking pictures at the conclusion of my first course, not at the beginning. Then again, I guess it only seemed appropriate, since the courses I’m taking here in Uruguay are different from what I’m used to at home. Instead of the semester-long graduate courses offered in the States, masters-level coursework in the humanities (including anthropology, history, literature, and philosophy) is divided up among week and month-long seminars that meet between 7:00-10:00 p.m. Most of the graduate professors are guests of the Universidad de la Republica and hail originally from universities as close as neighboring Argentina and Brazil, and as far away as Europe.

(Here I am with a few of my classmates--companeras de curso--and our professor, Haydee Coehlo, second from right).

My first course of the semester, which met between the 10th and 14th of this month, discussed the scholarly work of Brazilian anthropologist and public intellectual Darcy Ribeiro. Always controversial in his unwavering support of indigenous rights and conscious building (concientizacion), Ribeiro spent several years in exile in Montevideo during Brazil’s 1964 dictatorship, where he forged an important and long-lasting relationship with Uruguayan intellectuals. Logically, the class was divided almost evenly among students, many of them teachers and professionals during the day, from anthropology and literature. Others, taking advantage of the fact that the public university system is free to all Uruguayans, were proud to admit they are simply life-long students interested in learning something new.

(After a long week of classes, a cold cerveza with the profesora is the best way to unwind).

To my surprise, as well as most of the other students, the seminar offered us not only exposure to new material, but also a new language. With the exception of student-led discussion, Professor Haydee Coelho of the Universidad Federal de Minas Gerais dictated the entire course in Portuguese. With a little effort, though, lots of gesturing, and even more concentration—especially on my part, since I’ve never taken Portuguese!—by the end of the course at 10 p.m. on Friday night we found we shared a common language.