The Quiet Hour of the Kimonos

Filhos do Guajiru — a story of jiu-jitsu, discipline and a tatami by the sea ...

At six in the evening, Guajiru changes. If you happen to be walking through the village at that hour, the streets suddenly fill with children — many of them barefoot, all of them in kimonos — moving in the same direction. They are going to class. The tatami is waiting.

Young martial artists from Team BJJ Kids Guajiru assemble on mats, exemplifying discipline and teamwork in their Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu training.

The man waiting with it is Mestre Marreta.

He arrived in Guajiru eight years ago and did what he says any teacher should do: he started working where he lives. What began as a small local class is now Filhos do Guajiru, a social jiu-jitsu project with around thirty children and twenty teenagers training regularly — a significant number in a fishing village this size.

Ask Marreta what jiu-jitsu has given these kids and his answer is short, like most things he says: discipline, and a better way of living together. He is old school. His style of teaching — and of jiu-jitsu itself — belongs to another era: technical, rigorous, unhurried. But spend an evening at the tatami and you notice the project doesn't run on solemnity. Marreta laughs with the kids. He uses humor the way he uses technique: precisely, and at the right moment.

In the village, he is greeted by everyone. Walking with him through Guajiru takes longer than it should.

What surprises visitors who train — and it surprised us — is the technical level. These are not kids being kept busy after school. They are being taught properly. Some are already standing out in competition, and the project is quietly developing its first generation of competitive athletes. Once a year, the kids travel to compete. It is the moment they wait for — Marreta says they come back transformed by it. They would compete more often, but the project's finances only allow for one trip a year.

There is also a tournament that doesn't require traveling at all: a local BJJ competition held in the town square, where the whole village becomes the audience.

Filhos do Guajiru runs on donations, local and international. The funds go where they are needed: kimonos for the children, and the upkeep of the training space. When asked what he dreams for the project, Marreta's answer is, again, brief: a space of their own. Somewhere that doesn't depend on anyone else.

It is a reasonable dream, stated without drama. Which is very much his style.

You can follow the project at

@filhosdoguajiru.