By Shannon Walbran

He is a dentist with a flair for the dramatic. A self-described "opportunity hunter," Jose Marmo da Silva sits on his terrace in Rio de Janeiro surrounded by six teenagers who are demanding to know when their next stilt-walking lesson will take place. Coordinating these street performers is one of many opportunities in Afro-Brazilian culture that Marmo has seized on to promote sexual health.

The kids move into the living room and start practicing dance moves, and Marmo says, "My mother knew from Day 1 that I would end up doing something like this. When accidents happened on our street, I would run over, give first aid, get the victims ready to go to the hospital, even when I was in grade school."

Starting on his own block in a poor neighborhood on Rio's outskirts, Marmo has expanded his care to a highly eclectic population. He began promoting AIDS education in Candomble religious communities but has segued into collaborating with Christian groups. He started motivating Afro-Brazilian youth to confront sexually transmitted diseases and unwanted pregnancy but has diversified into serving youth of all backgrounds. He created campaigns aimed at men that have captured the attention of women as well. "There's no sense in turning anybody away," says Marmo. "AIDS doesn't discriminate; why should we?"

One reason for his success is humor. Describing the Government's previous health campaigns, Marmo says, "The only message those fearmongers sent was that AIDS is fatal. Well, nobody wanted to get tested; they thought there was no hope."

Marmo's polar-opposite approach celebrates life and provokes instant reactions: On one poster, two friendly women sitting in a neighborhood bar smile at the camera. The caption reads, "With a condom, they'll say yes, yes, yes!" People laugh first, then think.

Marmo's second complaint about the Government's health campaign is that it has been directed solely at the upper classes. "They showed a plane full of white passengers," he noted. "How many Brazilians can afford to fly?" In response, Marmo holds up one of his own posters: Three hip young people pose like rap stars. The caption, in teen argot, says, "AIDS don't play 'round here." On closer examination, the girl's necklace is a condom on a gold chain, one boy's bongo drum has a condom for a top and the other boy's glasses have condoms for lenses.

Reaching People Through Their Culture

Reaching a wide audience is one of Marmo's strengths. He first won over the priests and practitioners of Candomble, a widespread but secretive sect, and since then has added brick after brick of society. Why did he start Candomble, an animist faith based on African religion? Numbers.

"Did you know that there are 19,000 Catholic churches in Brazil?" he asks, and without waiting, continues, "Even though Catholicism is the official religion, there are 12,000 terreiros (Candomble congregations) in the state of Rio de Janeiro alone. Do the math."

Despite its popularity, however, Candomble's mostly rural centers are tightly cloistered. "When I met with the Fathers and Mothers, they didn't believe that AIDS existed. They said, 'It's an invention of American media to scare us.' As members of their terreiros died, they came to me for help, and I asked them to care for the physical as well as the spiritual health of their congregations." The priests believed in Marmo and spread the word.

Candomble uses signs like the zodiac. "My sign is Oxossi, the hunter," Marmo said, holding up an imaginary bow and arrow. "I wait until the perfect moment, then I shoot. It's true, because I am always on the lookout for opportunities."

His hunting has paid off: Marmo's project is serving 6,000 Afro-Brazilian traditional religious communities, plus a multitude of Afro-Brazilian institutions, with 40,000 people benefiting directly and indirectly.

"People talk a lot about solidarity," Marmo says. "It's a sweet word, so-li-da-ri-ty." He smiles as he draws out the pronunciation. "But they don't walk their talk. Social agencies call me about their Afro-Brazilian clients. 'We don't know how to help these people,' they say. 'You do.' " He gestures with exasperation at the segregation in Brazilian society.

Reaching the World Through Dance and Film

Marmo's strategy has three key elements: a) publicity, including the Health Troupe, which entertains crowds while communicating important health information; b) direct service like the health booths, which give out condoms and the addresses of testing centers, and answer questions that people on the street might be embarrassed to ask elsewhere; c) institutional help like his annual multi-organizational conferences.

The Health Booth (Barraca da Saúde) operates in downtown Rio de Janeiro and at popular music concerts. Easy to approach, it distributes information, condoms and entertainment