For part 1 of this text, click here.

Many thanks to Contra-Mestre Perere for making this text available for translation!

[Phrases in italics and brackets are my added notes on the translation - Shayna McHugh]

It was Besouro himself, my mestre, who gave me my nickname Cobrinha Verde (little green snake) because I was very quick. I was so fast that one day he put me in a room and threw knives at me, to see if I could defend myself. I caught the knives twice.

When Besouro had a student and he saw that the student was ready, he would lock himself in a room with the student, take one dagger and give the other to the student, and say: “Let’s have a knife fight with a towel tied around our belts, so that we can’t get away from each other.”

One time in Santo Amaro, the deputy sent eight men (four inspectors and four soldiers) to catch me, and bring back either me or my head. It was midnight and I was coming home from the factory when they attacked me. I carried with me a wide machete with an 18-inch-long blade. When I approached the group, I saw that one of them was my cousin, who was an inspector. So I arrived and asked each of them for their blessing. When I got to my cousin, saying, “Your blessing, Sula,” he responded, “Now! Today it’s you! We’ll deliver either you or your head to the deputy.” I saw that there was no way to run. So I fought them so that I wouldn’t die. If I had run, they would have killed me. So I fought them to preserve my life.

It wasn’t just with capoeira that I freed myself from my enemies. The good capoeirista is a magician. He has the ability to learn good prayers and use a good amulet, because capoeira can’t protect us from bullets.

So I used good prayers and a good amulet. Today I don’t use them anymore, but I haven’t forgotten. Everything is here in my head. The prayers were to protect me from the evil eye and from bullets. If I ever fall into water, I have the prayer of Anja so that I don’t drown.

The amulet that I used had prayers of Santa Inês, Santo André, Sete Capelas, Sete Folhas. After I used it, I would put it on top of a clean plate. It would jump, because it was alive. But there was some problem, because it went away and left me. I must have committed some error. I already had this amulet when I entered Horácio de Matos’ band at age 17. It freed me from many things. The person who gave me this amulet was an African who, to this day, when I speak of him, my eyes fill with tears. He was called Uncle Pascoal. He was a bachelor. I would go to his house when I was a boy. He lived on the other side of the river behind my grandmother’s house, in Santo Amaro.

I would leave in the morning, go to his house, and ask his blessing. He would respond: may God bless you, my son. And he would ask me: “What is it that you want?” I would respond, “I’m going to clean your house.” I would grab the gourd, go to the river, fill it up, and bring it back. I would fill up his water tank and sweep the house. After I finished things, I would say, “I’m leaving, Uncle Pascoal.” And he would say, “Okay, my son.”

One day he said to me: “You’re a brave boy, and I’m going to give you something. Only God could deceive you. And God doesn’t deceive, my son, He doesn’t deceive anyone. Now, the thing I’m going to give you, you must use it as I will teach you.” I responded: “Yes, sir.”

I was ready to learn, so he began to teach me. He put 65 prayers in my head. I know the Pai Nosso Positivo, the Pai Nosso da Palma, the Pai Nosso Pequeninho, and the Pai Nosso de Antonio Conselheiro, with which I won the war.

So old Pascoal told me that there was an old disciple named Isídio (he is dead today) in Bonfim Church, who could get me the material to make an amulet.

I went to old Isídio and he gave me the material. When I returned to Santo Amaro, I gave the material to Uncle Pascoal. He prepared the amulet, gave it to me, and said: Look, you have to use it like this, like this, like this.

Twenty years later, when I returned to Santo Amaro, I still had this amulet.

I was a man who had a family, but I didn’t sleep with my wife. She would sleep there and I would sleep here, so that my powers wouldn’t be broken [in candomblé, it is believed that sexual relations "open" a person's body that had been protected by magic]. I didn’t pass under wire fences; I didn’t pass under dendê trees or certain other types of trees. I didn’t walk under clotheslines on Wednesdays or Saturdays.

Not everyone knows that Saturday is the most important day of the week. It’s the day that God set aside to rest. It’s the day of Our Lady, the Virgin Mary – she is my patron saint. I am of Nanamburucu and Oxalá, Oxalufá, all deities of the ground.

I have been a spiritist for thirty-something years. I work for good in my house. There will never be a time when my guardian angel instructs me to do evil, to desire evil for someone. I know how to do it. I know too much. I know how to put someone away within 24 minutes, God help me. For the love of God, I neither do this nor teach it.

I want for my spirit, when it tires of this material world, to be friendly so that I can reach the path of good adventures.

I think this is so beautiful. The worst thing in the world is when a person dies and his spirit stays wandering here among us, not reaching the place that God destined for it. The spirit attacks people, thinking it is doing good.

My greatest disappointment in capoeira was having lost my childhood. And no longer having the force of will that I once did. When I arrive in some academies and I see people playing so differently from me… that’s when I feel remorse and I remember my childhood. It is so beautiful when a person knows… I would like to go there and teach how it is.

In years past, I liked to hang out with the veterans here in Salvador. I’m not talking badly of anyone, because I never did – but I never heard of Pastinha. Never, until after the death of Aberrê. Before Aberrê died, Pastinha used to accompany him. It was after Pastinha took over the academy that he started saying he had been Aberrê’s mestre. But Aberrê never told me who his mestre was.

One time, I was without an academy, because I had moved to the Liberdade neighborhood. Pastinha asked me to go to his academy. So I went a few times. I asked him, “Who taught João Grande?” And he responded, “I did. I taught João Grande, João Pequeno, Moreno.”

One day he was invited to do a presentation in the naval base in São Tomé de Paripe. Eulampio – who I called my brother – and I went with him. When we arrived, the commander had us play, and threw money into the roda. The capoeiristas picked up the money from the ground, and Pastinha had them give it to me. On the way back, the commander had a guard give us a ride back in a truck. When we were in the truck, I put my hand in my pocket and said: “Take your money.” He said: “Not now. Give it to me when we get back to the center.” So when we got back, I gave him the money, and I didn’t keep a single cent.

Gigante trained with me. He is still alive, and can verify my story. I never pocketed money that was thrown inside the roda. When we finished playing, what did I do? I would take the money and give it to the capoeiristas to divide amongst themselves. Thanks to God, I was working in my own profession. I was in charge of three or four projects. So why would I want money? And that’s why people sought me out to teach them. Other capoeira instructors wouldn’t give their students the money from the center of the roda. They wouldn’t even pay for the students’ transportation to the performance.

I taught capoeira out of my love for Besouro. On his deathbed, Besouro called together all his students and told me that I, Cobrinha Verde, was the only one to whom he was giving his spirit to teach capoeira. This is why I taught for free. So when we came back from the presentation at São Tomé de Paripe, I took out all the money and gave it to Pastinha. He turned to me and said: “I’m going to give you some money.” And I responded, “No, I don’t want any,” and left.

The next day, I returned to the academy to teach the boys like João Grande… I was the one who gave classes to Pastinha’s students. I was the one who taught singing and berimbau, because he neither sung nor played. When I came to give class, the boys told me that Pastinha said that the reason I didn’t accept any of the money was because I had already pocketed half of it. Because of this, I even challenged Pastinha to a fight. I told him: “I wish you were the same age as me so that we could settle this dispute. You’re a vagabond, and I’ll never set foot in this academy again, understand?”

I was the first person to travel outside of Salvador and present capoeira. I traveled to São Paulo. After me, then Bimba, Canjiquinha, and Caiçara began to travel.