Signs of life

Brasília wasn’t built for bipeds, my host warned me laughingly in an email before I came. Coitado do pedestre em Brasília, really. The city is built at the intersection of two massive highways, after all, in a sort of hymn to the automobile industry. São Paulo may not stop, but Brasília abhors red lights. I saw the extent to which cars are king in Brasília right away, as I was being given a tour of downtown (if you can call it that). As we crossed a street (on a pedestrian crosswalk, I hasten to add), my guides gave a helpless little wave to the oncoming traffic. I assumed it was just courtesy, but then I saw the command on the asphalt.

“Dê sinal de vida” – it can be translated as a prosaic “Signal” or freely as “Show signs of life.” The gist is that you’re supposed to stick out an arm before crossing the street. After all, what brasiliense driver would expect to see live humanoids ambulating on their own legs? They can’t be faulted for needing extra warning before they step on their disused brakes.

One of my favorite things about Centro in Rio is how quickly it becomes obvious that the pedestrians are in charge. The traffic light can be as green as the Danube, but if a crowd decides that it wants to cross Rio Branco, dammit, that crowd is going to cross. It’s a marvelous sight to see. And in Brasília, a pedestrian’s only hope of survival in a crosswalk is to show signs of life.

Well, I’ll have you know, I took this “sinal de vida” thing seriously. And I started to have fun with it. At one crosswalk I gave a salute; at another I flashed the peace sign; at a third I did jazz hands. By the time I made the Vulcan salute and the Boy Scout greeting, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. Unexpcted opportunities for creativity:  Brasília’s not all bad.

Flora Thomson-DeVeaux

É escritora, tradutora, brasilianista e diretora de pesquisa na Rádio Novelo