Five Hundred Years of Cachaça
There’s a lot of time spent arguing over who invented cachaça and where exactly in Brazil that person created it. The problem is, no one knows the precise answer, and it’s likely no one will ever know. I’ve consistently remained unsure why this even matters. What’s important is not who or where cachaça came from, though its approximate age might mean something. And no, we don’t have an exact birthdate. But we do have an approximate time: somewhere in the 1530s. Thus, cachaça is almost five hundred years old.
What should matter to its fans is that cachaça’s a defining spirit created well before Brazil declared independence. Its birth, development and association with this country should be a point of pride, which it often isn’t.
Last week, I translated a piece by my colleague Gastrofelicidade about his personal reflection process and the link between himself and cachaça during those experiences. In the piece, he wrote a bit about his appreciation and thankfulness for the creators of cachaça, a list of people too great for most writers to consider. He acknowledged his likely anonymity in the future, though he is contributing to the culture, and hopefulness that he will live on in its cultural shadow.
I find this very powerful. The question is not whether the history of cachaça relates to a particular group or person, but that it encompasses the entire complicated history of the country--slavery, class differences, racism, elitism-- with the historical and cultural richness for which Brazil is also known--family, agriculture, music, dance, and food.
Cachaça, as a concept, doesn’t need to embrace a mythos or something false. It can be its past, present, and future all at the same time. A cultural product doesn’t belong to any individual. It belongs to the collective. While different individuals do what they can to involve themselves in that culture and support themselves, no one is at the center. No one is behind the curtain. It is the effort of a community, which uses its knowledge to improve the culture as best it can for current and future generations.
I see the cultural and historical value more and more clearly every day, often without consuming a drop of cachaça. Whether lectures or art or writing, cachaça is more than the scattered production of liquor. It is a burgeoning community, which is still trying to find its way. It isn’t in denial of what it was or what it was used for, but it is trying to turn itself into something greater. I’m just glad that, for a little while, I’m along for the ride.
