The original dobrão, with a value of 20 mil-réis. This was the most valuable coin in the Brazilian colonial era.
A dobrão is the thick coin used to play the berimbau, and mine had gone missing after our street roda. I had others at home... but for capoeiristas, it's more than just a piece of lost property. You develop a certain affinity with your dobrão; it's the part of the berimbau you always carry with you. Baquetas are a dime a dozen, but losing a dobrão is almost like losing a patuá, a protective amulet.
In this ladainha, M. Poloca includes the dobrão among the mystical factors for maintaining acorpo fechado (literally, a "closed body," one that is supernaturally protected):
| Eu tenho corpo fechado Por olho não morro não Eu tenho meu protetor Me pegar não é fácil não Contra faca de ticum Aprendi uma oração Sapato com presa dentro O meu pé não boto não Não uso roupa dos outros Nem empresto o meu dobrão Não como comida alheia Roupa minha, vendo não Dia de roda não bebo Em mulher não ponho a mão Camará |
I have a closed body I cannot be killed by the evil eye I have my protector It's not easy to catch me Against knives made of ticum I learned a prayer A shoe with a bird's claw inside I do not put on my foot I don't wear others' clothing Nor do I lend my dobrão I don't eat strange food Nor do I sell my clothes On the day of a roda, I don't drink Nor do I touch a woman Comrade |
Do I believe a dobrão has real magical powers?
Not really.
Am I still influenced by the superstition?
You bet.
I’ve had a terrible last couple of days and so yesterday when I found my lost dobrão, I took it as a sign that maybe my luck is turning!
