Questões Militares de Inglês - Interpretação de texto | Reading comprehension

Read Your Way Through Salvador 

By Itamar Vieira Junior and translated by Johnny Lorenz. July 19, 2023.

I was born in Salvador, in the Brazilian state of Bahia, and lived in the general vicinity until I reached the age of 15. But it was when I left that I really came to know my city. How was I able to discover more about my birthplace while traveling far from home? It might sound rather clichéd but, I assure you, literature made this possible: It took me on a journey, long and profound, back home, enveloping me in words and imagination. 

To understand the formation of our unique society and, consequently, the cityscape of Salvador, one should read, before anything else, “The Story of Rufino: Slavery, Freedom and Islam in the Black Atlantic,” by João José Reis, Flávio dos Santos Gomes and Marcus J.M. de Carvalho. Rufino was an alufá, or Muslim spiritual leader, born in the Oyo empire in present-day Nigeria and enslaved during his adolescence. “The Story of Rufino” is an epic tale, encapsulating the life of one man in search of freedom as well as the history of the development of Salvador itself, a place inextricably linked with the diaspora across the Black Atlantic. Another book for which I have deep affection is “The City of Women,” by the American anthropologist Ruth Landes. It offers an intriguing perspective, focusing on matriarchal power in candomblé, an Afro-Brazilian sacred practice, and revealing how the social organization of its spiritual communities reverberates across the city.

If you want to feel the intensity of life on the streets of Salvador, these two books, both by Amado, are indispensable: “Captains of the Sands” and “Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands.” The first is a coming-of-age story in which we follow a group of children and adolescents living on the streets and on the beaches around the Bay of All Saints. Written more than 80 years ago, the book was banned and even burned in the public square during the dictatorship of Getúlio Vargas in the first half of the 20th century. As a portrait of Salvador, it is still relevant and reveals our deep inequalities. “Dona Flor and her Two Husbands” is one of Amado’s most popular novels, translated into more than 30 languages and adapted many times for theater, cinema, and television. The book is a kind of manifesto for a woman’s liberation. Dona Flor possesses great culinary talent, and oppressed by a patriarchal society, finds herself divided between two men, one being her deceased husband. While the novel captures the daily life of the city in the 1940s, it is also a wonderful guide to the cuisine of Salvador, with its African and Portuguese influences.

I invite readers to travel into the interior of Bahia, many hours by car from Salvador to the region known as the Sertão, whose name translates loosely to “backwoods.” Two books can also transport you there, and they are sides of the same story: “Backlands: The Canudos Campaign,” by Euclides da Cunha, and “The War of the End of the World,” by Mario Vargas Llosa. 

“Backlands” is one of the most important works in the history of Brazilian literature. It is a journalistic telling that introduces us not only to the brutal War of Canudos, but also to the intriguing landscape of the Sertão, a place so full of contradictions. In his writing of the conflict, da Cunha tells the story of the genesis of the tough sertanejo: a mythic, cowboyesque figure of the drought-stricken, lawless interior. “The War of the End of the World” is an essential epic that amplifies the narrative of “Backlands,” bringing a more imaginative, creative aspect to the story of Antônio Conselheiro, the spiritual leader of a rebellion, and of the multitude that followed him to their deaths.

[Fonte: “Read Your Way Through Salvador”. In: The New York Times, 19/07/2023,<http://www.nytimes.com/2023/07/19/books/salvador-bahia-brazil-books.html> . Adaptado. Data de acesso: 01/09/2023.]

        Many assumptions of a communicative orientation towards language teaching need questioning in a global context. Ozóg (1989) discusses the idea of the ‘information gap’, which is supposed to induce students to speak. ‘Are we as Europeans’, he asks, ‘not making a cultural assumption that speakers the world over are uneasy in silence and that they have an overwhelming desire to fill gaps which occur in natural discourse?’ (p.399). Silence is a salient feature of conversation in the Malay world, he points out, a feature that has also been noted in Japan and a number of other cultures.

       Indeed, the whole question of requiring others to speak needs to be questioned in terms of both cultural and gender differences. The point here is not to exoticize some notion of cultural difference, but rather to suggest that language is a cultural practice, that both language and thinking about language are always located in very particular social, cultural and political contexts. How language (including silence, paralanguage, and so on) is used, therefore, differs extensively from one context to another, and thus any approach to language teaching based on one particular view of language may be completely inapplicable in another context. If particular language teaching practices (advertised and exported as the best, newest and most scientific) support certain views of language, then such practices clearly present a particular cultural politics and make the English language classroom a site of struggle over different ways of thinking about and dealing with language.

        Many assumptions of a communicative orientation towards language teaching need questioning in a global context. Ozóg (1989) discusses the idea of the ‘information gap’, which is supposed to induce students to speak. ‘Are we as Europeans’, he asks, ‘not making a cultural assumption that speakers the world over are uneasy in silence and that they have an overwhelming desire to fill gaps which occur in natural discourse?’ (p.399). Silence is a salient feature of conversation in the Malay world, he points out, a feature that has also been noted in Japan and a number of other cultures.

       Indeed, the whole question of requiring others to speak needs to be questioned in terms of both cultural and gender differences. The point here is not to exoticize some notion of cultural difference, but rather to suggest that language is a cultural practice, that both language and thinking about language are always located in very particular social, cultural and political contexts. How language (including silence, paralanguage, and so on) is used, therefore, differs extensively from one context to another, and thus any approach to language teaching based on one particular view of language may be completely inapplicable in another context. If particular language teaching practices (advertised and exported as the best, newest and most scientific) support certain views of language, then such practices clearly present a particular cultural politics and make the English language classroom a site of struggle over different ways of thinking about and dealing with language.

      Since ChatGPT can engage in conversation and generate essays and graphs that closely resemble those created by humans, educators worry students may use it to cheat. The main reason students cheat is their academic motivation. Sometimes they are just motivated to get a high grade, whereas other times they wish to learn all that they can about a topic. The decision to cheat or not often relates to how academic assignments and tests are constructed and assessed, not on the availability of technological shortcuts.

       Research demonstrates that students are more likely to cheat when assignments are designed in ways that encourage them to outperform their classmates. There is less cheating when teachers assign academic tasks that prompt them to work collaboratively and to focus on mastering content instead of getting a good grade.

      An important way to boost students’ confidence is to provide them with opportunities to experience success. For example, suppose students are asked to attempt to design a hypothetical vehicle that can use gasoline more efficiently than a traditional car. Students who struggle with the project can use ChatGPT to break down the larger problem into smaller challenges or tasks. ChatGPT might suggest they first develop an overall concept for the vehicle before determining the size and weight of the vehicle and deciding what type of fuel will be used. Teachers could also ask students to compare the steps suggested by ChatGPT with steps that are recommended by other sources. 

(Kui Xie e Eric M. Anderman. http://www.theconversation.com. 06.06.2023. Adaptado)