Swing time, Brazilian style

MUMBAI: Globalisation, like God, works in mysterious ways. The martial art dance form known as capoeira is one such mystery. It originated in Africa, became Brazil’s national sport, is performed in a European language (Portuguese), and is now being taught in Mumbai, to French students, by a man who is part-Iranian, part-Iraqi, part-Indian and part-Jew. And this man — Reza Massah is his name — learnt the art in Israel where he had gone hoping to make some money selling samosas.

On the fourth floor of SS Sahny high school in Khar (W), Massah, 36, marshals a band of enthusiastic students — most of them young working professionals — who have come to him in search of a fitness regimen that is more exciting than running at the same place in an air-conditioned room to remix music.

One of them, 26-year-old Azania Thomas, has been attending Massah’s sessions for two months. “A gym is only for your body,” she says. “Capoeira is a mind-body experience. You’re not just losing weight or building muscles, you’re also learning new songs, new instruments, a new language — Portuguese — and a new culture.”

Before he begins his class, Massah gathers his students in a circle. “Capoeria is played within a circle, known as ‘roda’,” he explains. They sing as he plays the Berimbau, a one-stringed instrument that looks like an archer’s bow. Some of the students accompany him on tambourines, drums, and an instrument that he calls Brazil Nuts. The rest sing along and clap.

What they produce is some attractive Latino music with African rhythms. And when Massah’s oldest student, 62-year-old Suhas Joshi, accompanies the players on his flute, the music acquires a haunting Eastern resonance that transports you into a different world altogether, a world where, one imagines, mobile phones are banned and idling is a human right.

As the music flows, a lissome Naga girl and a slender young man step into the centre to show off their skills. They maintain eye contact, as each tries to anticipate the other’s next move. Hits are only shown, not made. There are feints, mischief, and laughter, as the one dodges a kick that the other did not make. Then Massah steps into the centre, replacing the Naga girl, and performs some splendid cartwheels.

“The moves in capoeira require flexibility and strength,” says Massah. “There are kicks, sweeps, slaps, elbow strikes and spectacular manoeuvres that involve hand-spins, head-spins, jumps and flips."

One end of the hall where Massah holds his classes opens on to a balcony, from where you can see the sun slowly settling into the waters of the Arabian Sea. As a music-system belts out a Latino folk tune, Massah leads his group of 15 through an exercise drill whose strenuousness is matched only by its playfulness.

Among other things which are not easily described, they jog backward, leapfrog sideways, do cartwheels, walk on their hands, swivel on their toes, slap their neighbour and get slapped in return, and at the end of it all, sit in a circle and sing songs. In the words of Massah, “No fancy equipment, no disco pop, and no bicycles with flashing lights. Yet the work out is as good as you would get at any gym. And infinitely more fun.” But then, that’s only to be expected. How can something from Brazil not be fun?