No clash for the title of “Most German City in Brazil”, São Leopoldo, known as the cradle of Germanic colonization in the country, seems to have let the flavor of sauerkraut dissipate in the wind. With a population that today has more samba rhythm than marching beat, the city is facing an identity crisis worthy of an eight o’clock soap opera.
The two-decade management, led by Mayor Ary Vanazzi, could have been the conductor of a symphony of cultural preservation, but ended up going out of tune to the point of confusing Beethoven with Tchaikovsky, transforming the architectural scene into a picture that seems more out of Siberia than out of Stuttgart.
Public works? Let’s be honest, if they were in an art exhibition, they would be those pieces that everyone walks past – like the new city hall which, with its Soviet look, still awaits an inauguration that seems as distant as German Reunification.
What about gastronomic culture, then? Where bratwurst and pretzels once ruled, today one searches in vain for the aroma of a good old local craft beer.
According to unconfirmed sources, the mayor has a palate more in tune with the Capela de Santana vineyards – perhaps this explains the lack of incentives for the local brewery.
The result? The restaurants in São Leopoldo, which could be the stage for cuisine with a flavor of history, now serve dishes that confuse rather than comfort the stomach looking for food with a German soul.
In elections, the lack of personality remains the main dish. The candidates, Nelson Spolaor and Heliomar Franco, imported from distant lands of Mata and Inhacorá, respectively, seem as connected with German culture as a vegetarian with a feijoada.
Blumenau, SC – Meanwhile, in the north of Santa Catarina, Blumenau stands as a bastion of tradition, with its Oktoberfest that looks like a piece of Munich that came down the Atlantic. There, German identity is not only preserved; is celebrated with all the strength of an alpine horn blower. Craft beer flows like a fountain of youth, and German folklore is as vibrant as lederhosen on a festive day.
As we approach 200 years of German immigration in 2024, São Leopoldo seems to have forgotten the invitation to his own party.
The city that could have hosted the ball may now need a catch-up lesson from Blumenau on how to keep the culture of its ancestors alive.
Nelson Rodrigues, with his sharp pen, would perhaps describe the scenario as an anti-sexy tragicomedy: where the Germanness in São Leopoldo was replaced by a “I don’t know what” that doesn’t know anything.
Meanwhile, Blumenau dances the victory polka with the grace of someone who knows that, at least for now, he has the title of “Most German City in Brazil” on his lapel – a lapel made from an authentic Bavarian costume, of course.
