Brazil: Soccer and Service
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Each student has a unique and individual experience on their Experiment program. The following essay is a single glimpse into a program from one student's perspective.
Paige Warren-Shriner
Futsal
My group and I walked into the dimly lit gym having no idea what to expect. After having lost miserably to a Brazilian team in field soccer, our chances didn't look good in our first game of futsal, a game none of us had played or even heard of before. We sat down on the bleachers to watch the end of the practice before us, studying intently for anything that might help us. The kids who were playing did so with an undeniable passion, barking orders to one another in Portuguese and enthusiastically sprinting up and down the floor. After a few minutes, the practice ended and it was our turn.
As we began to play, we gradually became comfortable with the unfamiliar game. Its quick pace began to show us why Brazilians played the way they did; the smaller, heavier ball, the short court, and fewer players allowed for creativity and demanded superior touch on the ball. We soon discovered the boys' small statures were no indication of their talent. They maneuvered their way up and down the floor with incredible ease and skill. Though they were only twelve or thirteen, they taught us a lot about how to play the game.
But it was not the skill of these kids that impressed us the most, but their bubbling personalities. In between games, my team and I would sit on the bench with them, swapping handshakes and tricks with the ball (although it was mostly them teaching us). The feature on my goalie gloves that prevented the wearer's fingers from being bent back fascinated them, and each one wanted to try them out for themselves. Our limited Portuguese prevented us from carrying on conversations, yet we had found a way to connect with these kids: our shared passion for soccer. By the end of our first session, which went an hour longer than it was supposed to, futsal had become our new favorite game.
Every few days, when we walked into that gym, the original feeling of anxiety had vanished. Instead, it was replaced by a renewed passion for the game. The vivacity of the kids we played with made us feel like young kids again; they played for the pure joy of faking a defender or burying the ball in the back of the net, and they taught us to do the same.
After our last session, we spent a half an hour taking pictures and playing around with the kids. In the midst of this chaos, one of the boys timidly came up to me with his mother. She told me he loved the socks I was wearing. At first I wasn't sure what to say, but then it occurred to me, why not let him have them? When I proposed this idea, his face lit up as if I had just offered something much more than a dirty old pair of socks. What he didn't realize was that he had also given me something: the opportunity to see life from another perspective, one where "jogar bonita" (playing beautifully) took precedence over almost everything else and fueled a passion that only Brazilians, a nation of soccer players, could have.
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