Teething troubles

Today is Tiradentes Day. This Brazilian national hero, a formerly 'umble tooth-puller (ie dentist, hence his name, tira-dentes) began the eighteenth-century rebellion against the Portuguese. Official history has him being killed by the mother country but popular legend sees him being whisked away to France by the Masons. Either way, the day named in his honour (along with our local metro station) marks the beginning of the end of Portuguese rule.

I recently read an article talking about the current dire straits in which Brazil's colonial parent now finds itself. It is  hard to think of another former empire that has so successfully disappeared into the shadows of history. Portuguese as a language is more formal than other Neo-Latin tongues like Spanish - just think of an everyday word like "obrigado", an ornate four-syllable "thank-you" that suggests a level of contractual obligation unusual in our abbreviated and informal age.

Yet Brazilians, who like to wear football shirts as regular attire, are known for their fun and relaxed approach to life. The Portuguese mother ship left them a peculiarly paradoxical legacy, which is still being worked out: simultaneously informal and formal. The language is a behavioural straight jacket which seems to hinder free expression and social progress.

A Brazilian once told me his country was like an orphan: culturally, financially and politically abandoned by its incorrigible and incapable mother. Portugal's near disappearance in the modern world, and its pressing fiscal woes, have largely been brought about by its desperate failure to invest in education.

Brazil, the "bastard" offspring, is today blessed with an alternative inheritance - a domestic "empire" of natural resources that makes it the envy of our new globalised world. As it celebrates this lucky escape from an ill-fated European mother, Brazil must ensure that it too does not squander a golden opportunity by failing to count its blessings and educate its children.

Speaking of which, I had an "interesting" opportunity the other day, while seated alone with my son just off Avenida Paulista, to learn first-hand about the agonies of teething. This usually placid and happy baby suddenly went ballistic with pain as, I assume, his two incipient bottom teeth began to torment him. Despite the speedy application of Paracetamol and Bonjela, his screaming remained at fever pitch for what felt like an eternity. It's one way to usher in Tiradentes Day that I hope never to repeat.