Entering a living tradition
Today I attended the Festa da Lavagem do Bonfim, one of Salvador’s most significant religious and cultural events. What initially appeared as acelebration of music, faith, and tradition quickly revealed itself as a space where history, race, health, and political expression coexist openly. Wearing matching shirts with my group, we joined a large procession accompanied by drums, chanting, and movement that reflected centuries of Afro-Brazilian cultural continuity.
The Lavagem do Bonfim is a deeply syncretic ritual that unites Catholic devotion to Senhor do Bonfim with reverence for the orixá Oxalá, which is a symbol of peace, creation, and purification in Candomblé. This fusion emerged during Brazil’s colonial period, when enslaved Africans preserved their spiritual practices by embedding them within Catholic traditions. Observing baianas dressed in whitewashing the church steps with água de cheiro, I understood the ritual not only as an act of devotion, but also as a form of cultural survival. In this context, the festival functions as collective care, offering spiritual, emotional, and social healing in response to generations of exclusion from formal systems of protection and healthcare.
Advocacy in unexpected places
Throughout the procession, I encountered women peacefully distributing flyers and holding signs that addressed femicide and gender-based violence in Brazil. Their presence was calm and intentional, transforming the festival into a space for education rather than confrontation. By sharing information within such a visible and symbolic setting, they emphasized how gendered violence is deeply connected to historical inequality and public health. This moment challenged the idea that celebration and protest must be separate, showing instead how they can coexist as expressions of care, resistance, and accountability.
During the event, I unexpectedly spoke with a PhD student who was handing out fitas to do Bonfim, the ribbon like tokens oftenworn as symbols of protection and unity as well as some stickers. In our brief conversation, he spoke about Brazil’s public school and university system, emphasizing how education is widely understood as essential to collective wellbeing. He explained that while education is highly valued, the system is not yet equitable, particularly between public and private schools, which limits opportunities for many students. Reduced government funding, he noted, further strains public institutions and shapes long-term social and health outcomes. This exchange reinforced the idea that education itself functions as a form of public health, shaping stability, access to knowledge, and the ability to advocate for one’s rights.
A city shaped by geography
Later, traveling through Salvador, the city’s vertical structure became strikingly visible. The division between the Upper City and Lower City is bridged by historic transportation systems such as the Planos Inclinators and the Elevator Lacerda. Moving between levels, particularly toward Santo Antônio Além do Carmo, revealed how geography shapes access to opportunity, resources, and health. These systems reflect colonial planning,racial stratification, and economic inequality embedded into the city’s design.
Finding community at day’s end
I ended my day walking toward the lighthouse to watch the sunset. As the light softened, locals gathered nearby, sharing space, music, conversation, and art in an informal but deeply communal setting. This felt like a true third space, a place outside of work, and a home where people connect, decompress, and belong. Seeing this kind of shared public life made me reflect on how rare such spaces feel in the United States, where community gathering is often fragmented or commercialized. Here, the act of being together seemed to support collective mental well-being in quiet but powerful ways.
Experiencing the natural beauty of the ocean and community as the sun sets on the day and our study abroad experience.
Throughout the day, I remained aware of my position as a visitor. While I can observe and reflect, the individuals celebrating, protesting, learning, and gathering are living within these systems daily. The Lavagem do Bonfim demonstrated that health in Brazil is not confined to clinics or policies. It is carried out in ritual, education, infrastructure, and shared spaces that allow people to be seen, supported, and connected.
Najma Ahmed
Criminal Justice
CU Denver School of Public Affairs