www.milforddailynews.com By Liz Mineo Sunday, January 12, 2003

FRAMINGHAM -- In northeast Brazil, one of the country's poorest regions, rural women make a living, stitch by stitch, creating fine embroidery and lace they sell for next to nothing.

More than 4,000 miles away in Framingham, Brazilian native Ilma Paixao is determined to change that.

A Framingham resident for the past 17 years, Paixao, 40, plans to start a business that will help her fellow countrywomen reap the benefits of their craft.

Rendeiras, as the lace makers are called in Portuguese, often earn less than Brazil's monthly minimum wage -- $60 -- for pieces that take months to sew. Many don't have access to big markets, and sell their crafts to wholesalers, who often prey on them. For a tablecloth that takes two months to make, rendeiras get $30 from wholesalers who later will sell it for up to $250.

"They've always been taken advantage of," said Paixao at her Lohnes Road home. "They take a lot of pride in what they do, but they have to give it away for whatever they can get. They have no choice."

The arid northeast of Brazil, where recurring droughts hamper the region's economy, is home to 45 percent of the country's poor. With no industry in this impoverished area, most men work the land while women make lace and embroidery to support their families.

Brazil's current president, Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, was born in this region, the son of farm workers. His family moved from the state of Pernambuco to Sao Paulo when da Silva was 7 years old, seeking a better life.

It's a hard life in a harsh region, said Lucilia Gondim Harrington, a librarian with the Brazilian Embassy in Washington, D.C.

"It's a less developed area," said Harrington, who was born in the city of Fortaleza in the northeast of Brazil. "There aren't too many industries, and people work with ther hands. They're very creative, and arts and handicrafts are widespread in the region."

The work of the rendeiras is well known in the region, said Harrington, who took lessons on how to make laces in the late 1960s while she was growing up in Brazil.

"These women are underpaid," said Harrington. "They live in the countryside and have no way to get to the markets. They often end up selling their products to more than one middleman who marks up the prices."

Through her business, "Linens and Lace," Paixao plans to purchase fine embroidered tablecloths, bedding and children's clothes from the rendeiras in the village of Pocao in the state of Pernambuco and sell them here.

Part of the profit will go to the rendeiras, said Paixao, and to a cooperative she hopes to start with the artisans in the village of 10,000 people. The cooperative will provide a place where the craftswomen can work together and receive training, health care and some other benefits, and preserve their culture.

"Many women lose their eyesight and suffer from arthritis when they get old," said Paixao. "They work without any benefits, and when they get old, they have nothing."

The desire to help is not new to Paixao. Since she moved here in 1984, Paixao has been involved with up to 10 projects helping the disadvantaged in several states in Brazil.

With Paixao's help, groups of street kids in Governador Valadares -- where many of Framingham's Brazilian residents hail from -- learn arts; street kids in Rio Grande do Norte do activities with the local firemen; and low-income women in Sao Paulo learn how to sew, do nails and cut hair. By helping the rendeiras of Pocao, Paixao hopes to benefit the whole village.

"Why not?" said Paixao, who worked as a nurse before moving to the United States. "It really takes little to make a huge difference in people's lives."

Brazilian community leaders praised Paixao's social work.

"Ilma is one of the most involved people in the community," said Urbano Santos, president of Framingham's Brazilian American Association. "She's well known in the community for her work helping the poor in Brazil. She doesn't forget her people. Others should imitate her."

To make sure her venture goes well, Paixao registered for a Community Entrepreneurs Program at the Center for Women and Enterprise, CWE, a non-profit organization sponsored by Citizens Bank designed to help women start and grow business. Over the past seven years, the center has trained more than 5,000 women in Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Paixao's project called the attention of center officials.

"The most impressive thing about Ilma's project is that it's not only going to create a better life for her and her family, but for this whole village in Brazil," said development director Jennifer Bennet, who founded the program four years ago.

Bennet said she's impressed with Paixao's perseverance, tenacity and passion, and hopes the program -- which is similar to a street-smart MBA -- will help Paixao hone her business skills to succeed.

During the course, Paixao learned to establish a budget, write a business plan and how to do market research. While working part-time jobs and caring for her children, ages 13 and 15, Paixao is selling the items locally in crafts shows. And until she can get enough money to open a store, Paixao plans to run her business out of her home.

Surrounded by dozens of samples of embroidery and lace she brought from Brazil, on a recent evening Paixao reflected on her business venture, the situation of the rendeiras and the hopes for change.

"If my business fails, I can do something else," said Paixao. "But what about those women? They have nothing else. They've learned the trade from their mothers and grandmothers. They put so much love in their craft. They deserve better."

(Anyone interested in contacting Ilma Paixao, may call her at (774) 323-3483.)

www.nytimes.com Miramax Films

Li'l Ze's gang in "City of God" by the Brazilian director Fernando Meirelles. The movie has been hotly debated in Brazil. It shows the world "that hell is here, just behind Ipanema," another director said. By LARRY ROHTER

RIO DE JANEIRO A CAST composed almost entirely of unknown actors, a setting that is none too attractive, a lot of violence and no sex scenes. If ever a studio wanted a formula for a film to fail, that would be it," said the Brazilian director Fernando Meirelles.

As he was shooting in the slums here two years ago, Mr. Meirelles worried about the commercial viability of the movie he was making. Yet "City of God," which opens in New York and Los Angeles on Friday, has become a watershed cultural and political event in Brazil, and has now been seen by more Brazilians than any film in nearly 30 years. Advertisement

Every aspect, from its unblinking portrayal of criminality to its innovative cinematography, has been endlessly analyzed and discussed, to the point that Brazil's new president, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, is reported to have said that seeing the movie made him change his policy on public security.

"City of God" ("Cidade de Deus") takes its title from the best-selling novel by Paulo Lins, which in turn is named for a gigantic housing project built here in the 1960's and where some 120,000 people live today. Mr. Lins grew up there, knew the real-life characters portrayed in the book and film, and watched as drug gangs gained a stranglehold over the community.

"The book was the fruit of 30 years of observation and 10 years of research," he said in an interview at his apartment in the middle-class neighborhood where he now lives. "From the time I was a little kid, I watched what was going on around me, so everything that appears in the book is real, and that reality is exactly what the filmmakers wanted to capture."

When "Cidade de Deus" was published in 1997, it became an immediate critical and popular success in Brazil, in large part because it showed slum life from the inside — and did so without condemning the people who live there. A friend of Mr. Meirelles gave the director a copy of the book with the suggestion that it might make a good movie.

As it happened, Mr. Meirelles (pronounced mere-ELLIES), who is 47, was then at a crossroads in his career. He had always wanted to make feature films, and had directed several television programs and documentaries, but had drifted into advertising and become probably the most successful director of commercials in Brazil.

"I had won Clio awards and all the other prizes you can win, but I was at that point when you start asking if there isn't something more," he recalled.

Mr. Meirelles's proposal to film "City of God" was one of eight that Mr. Lins received, including some from directors much better known and with experience filming in Rio's favelas, or hillside squatter slums. But when Mr. Meirelles outlined his calculatedly risky plan to cast amateurs from Cidade de Deus and other slum neighborhoods, the balance shifted.

"It was the idea of using actors from the favelas that really moved me and won me over," Mr. Lins said. "The money was almost the same in all of the offers, but Fernando's vision of the project was the most interesting."

Once that hurdle was overcome, the sheer Dickensian sweep of the novel offered Mr. Meirelles his next challenge. At 550 pages, "City of God" has nearly 300 characters and covers three decades in the slum's history: an early 160-page draft of the script won a prize at a Sundance Institute workshop held in Brazil, but even so, a dozen drafts were required before a filmable version was completed.

As a white raised in a middle-class São Paulo neighborhood, Mr. Meirelles faced an additional problem, that of credibility. The American equivalent of the situation he confronted would be a native of the Upper West Side of New York City deciding to go into Los Angeles' South Central to make a movie about black gangs and expecting to be received with open arms.

To ease his way, Mr. Meirelles decided to enlist a co-director, Kátia Lund. Originally from São Paulo, Ms. Lund is of Norwegian descent and a Brown University graduate but had made several Brazilian rap videos in the favelas and had also filmed "News From a Private War," a highly praised documentary about the drug gangs of Rio's slums.