Carnaval and a Return to Reality

Words cannot describe Carnaval in Salvador. I just took part in one of the craziest celebrations in the world, and I'm still a little store and definitely still tired. I'm going to keep this entry to highlights because honestly, I could write forever about the many stories I have. For brevity's sake, I'm going to keep it simple...

I was so happy to see friends arrive before the big week began. Dave, Hairston and Miles all arrived in Salvador, and the anticipation was palpable. Since I arrived in Brazil over two months ago, I have been told about Carnaval literally every day.  People's lives are literally built around it - it's something to look forward to, it's something to be proud of, and it's definitely something to make money off of with all the tourists that descend on the city. The city transformed before my eyes. There was a buzz on Thursday, the first day. We decided to take it easy as a group and just go into the street to survey what was going - to know what we were up against. The way it is set up is that you have three main "circuits" or neighborhoods where Carnaval takes place. And each day you have famous musicians and "trio electricos" which are bands, play music on top of big trucks, which are surrounded by security men and women pulling a big rope to separate the people who paid to walk with the musician and those on the street.  This procession of people and musical trucks is called a "bloco." The truth is it's super hard to participate in Carnaval and just be chill. Soon after we walked into the street the first day we were compelled to buy costumes. Before I knew it, I was shirtless with a red wig and a small tie, looking like a maniac, but looking tame compared to what everyone else was dressed as.  We walked to the music of Marguerita Mendes for awhile, the big group of us having a good ol' time. Little did I know when I got back to the house around 4am that things would get so much more intense...

 

Carnaval is interesting in that there really is a no-holds barred mentality. People are very aggressive and there are thousands upon thousands of them in the street, to the point where it's difficult to move.  Then there's the whole kissing and dancing with random people aspect to it. People spend tons of money during the week and things were so expensive it made my jaw drop at times. But the sight of it and the enormity of the event was really breathtaking. And it was just hilarious because things were so out of hand.  Women physically dodging kisses (like it was The Matrix), people peeing everywhere but a toilet, fights breaking out repeatedly...It didn't matter that some days it poured like crazy, people just danced while soaking wet. Each day, I left the house around 2pm and came home around 3am, extremely worn out.  Looking back on it, I met some amazing people, spent quality time with good friends, danced to some amazing music, saw some insane things, and lived in a real fantasy world for about a week. When it was over, all I wanted to do was sleep. As my friends have left Salvador one after another, it feels like I'm back to the real world, ready to think more analytically about what I experienced in that one week.

Todo Mundo Esta Aqui

It literally feels like the whole world is here. Friends have arrived. Everything is set. All that's left is to dance in the street to some great music for 7 straight days. My goals: don't get robbed, don't get beaten down by the cops, don't get lost in the crowd, have fun!

Oh to be young and free...

Trouble in Paradise??

As I was just trying to take a nap, to ward off my worst nightmare (getting sick before Carnaval - basically the worst-case scenario), my host-brother was watching Power Rangers in the next room. After my childhood obsession, I can recognize that theme song anywhere.  But I have to mention that my host brother is like 24 or 25, which definitely puts things in a different perspective.  Now I try hard not to judge people, and I'm working on improving that aspect of my thinking - to refrain from immediately judging someone based on the superficial. But I'm giving myself an exception for this one.  If I'm chillin at home watching Power Rangers in two years, please judge me, and judge me hard. Anyway, I decided to wake up, write some thoughts and finally post some more pictures...

Last night I finally saw Timbalada! They are my favorite band of the artists I've seen so far. They really were amazing. They put on a full concert - about 5 hours of non-stop music.  They even threw in a little bit of rock, electronica, and rap (with one guy screaming "GGGGG-G-Unit, after a freestyle - the only low point of the show). They have such a vast repertoire of music, from the high-powered axe to the soft ballads.  There's drumming and horns and dancers and a brilliant lead singer, who at one point tried out his English, chatting up a fan in the front. At one point he came into the audience and walked through, shaking hands, posing for pictures, and even making brief conversation every now and then. As I felt the possibility of being sick coming, I took it easy, but I still danced a good amount. It's hard not to. For one song, the whole front area of the crowd basically began stampeding around the stage in a circle. It looked like a furious ocean wave, but of people. I'm glad I wasn't in that, but it was very cool to watch. The band also had these awesome white shapes painted up and down both arms, which I think is like their group symbol. Most of the crowd had this painted on their arms as well. It was just an amazing show - I can't say enough about it. And only one weird thing happened rather than the numerous that often happen at these shows. We spent a good ten minutes trying to get away from this VERY strong woman, whose breasts were basically hanging out of her shirt. Turns out she was that strong because she was a man - I told my friend that I didn't mean to be sexist, but a girl pushing her way through the crowd like that better be a certified American Gladiator....

All the music I've taken in the last few days, and the music I will be immersed in for Carnaval got me thinking about what I haven't really been blogging about during my time here, Salvador's many challenges. It's interesting that the music has in some ways downplayed the social inequalities, the police brutality, and the poverty that exists here.  Don't get me wrong, much of the music, especially the ones rooted in a sense of black pride or connections to Africa, are extremely "conscious" and highlight lyrically the challenges still facing people of color in Brazil.  However, the performances and the experience of the music brings a very different function. Often at these shows, people are drunk, or holding tight a significant other, or dancing the night away. In general, I would venture to say the music is an outlet for people, an opportunity to just have fun and perhaps not live in hardship for the moment.  However, there is a tension here. For example, while going to show in Pelourinho for Olodum, one of the most influential blocos afros, one can't help but notice the young black children filing trash bags with empty beer cans in hopes of making some money to feed their families. One also can't help but notice the side streets of Pelo, the ones not apart of the tourist veneer, where squatters live in sometimes crumbling homes and indeed, the homeless sleep on the same cobblestone laid by slaves centuries ago. This is just an example but there are problems everywhere that need to be resolved, from the unemployment that forces young boys from favelas to sell the same necklaces on the beach everyday to the insufficient education system that doesn't prepare kids for college (and then there are the colleges where you can basically pay for a degree - not very helpful at all). Also, the country's major issue - drug trafficking - is not restricted to Rio and Sao Paolo. A friend told me of one time the police came late at night to his neighbor's home, accusing him of involvement in a recent drug trade, physically and verbally abusing him in front of his family. How is the music highlighting these struggles and mobilizing people against them? On the other hand, how is the music simply giving tourists a taste of Bahia and the locals a short respite from their daily challenges? Or does music have a different function altogether?

Cabare de RRRRRRRRaca

Last night I went to see a play entitled "Cabare de Raca" at the Teatro Vila Velha. It was a musical put on by a small theatrical group of Olodum (Bando de Teatro Olodum) about the experience of racism and discrimination in Brasil. I was accompanied by some of my friends and classmates, a good group of about ten people. The theatre had a good performance space - the stage was almost set up like a fashion runway, facilitating easy interaction with the audience. The place filled up pretty quickly, and there were apparently some soap opera stars in attendance.  I sat with my friend Rachel so she could help me with some of the Portuguese I didn't understand. Soon the cast ran onto the stage to a powerful number with same name as the show.  They were all dressed in red outfits, some with red shoes and red flowers in their hair, and red makeup.  This matched the deep red hue of the stage. One of the actors with a booming bass voice set the tone, proclaiming "Sou negro e estou fora!" which means "I'm black and I'm up front with it!" The show was very "in your face" with actors running into the audience and asking questions, falling on people's laps, and such. However the show was more inquisitive than militant. The different actors had a different stereotypical role they were playing - the militant black man complaining about the grievances of racial inequality, the clueless white girl who insists she knows a black person and therefore is not racist, the student who says racism doesn't exist in Brazil, etc. Every now and then they broke out into different numbers. It was mainly two singers, a man and a woman, who did most of the songs and they both had great voices. My favorite part was when the male singer broke out "What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong in Louis' very distinct, rippling voice.  At first I thought it was a recording, but that just means the guy did a great job.

There were some crazy moments, funny moments and some poignant moments in the show. The craziest moments came with all the nudity. I wasn't expecting so much of it, but there was plenty. During the discussion about sex (one of the actors proclaimed that black people in Brazil can only do sex, sports, and Candomble), the tallest and oldest actor of the group, who had hair that looked like a bird's nest, ran on to the stage completely naked, posing as another actor narrated about the sexual prowess of black men. Another time they did a whole song running around the theatre, naked, with things swinging above people's heads that shouldn't have been doing so. I'm glad at the last minute before the show started I switched my seat to the third row. The funny part was in the same scene with discussion about sex were the whole group formed a choir, and followed the director's hand motions not to sing a traditional number, but to basically moaning, sexual noises for about 5 minutes. I don't how the actors kept a straight face because I was dying laughing. A poignant moment came when one of the actors ran into the audience and was asking people if they experienced racism. He went up to this seemingly white couple, and first he asked the man where he was from. The guy said the U.S., so the actor assumed his wife was as well, but she spoke Portuguese. He made a somewhat sarcastic statement saying something to the effect of "I'm sure you both have experienced a ton of discrimination in your lives." He also asked if they thought white people discriminate more against black people, or black against black, or black against white. But the woman took everyone to task, explaining that she is "negra" because her father is black and that the whole world holds prejudice in their hearts. She explained that she experiences discrimination every day, and in fact, she was experiencing discrimination in that very moment, as the actor and audience assumed that because of her appearance she was not "negra." It was an impromptu lesson that amplified the play's message in many ways.

The show ended with a surprise appearance by the lead singer of the band Psirico, a very famous guy here in Salvador, and the band played the traditional song devoted to Ile Aiye. They invited the audience up onstage to dance, and we went up there and took some pictures with the actors and danced until the show was over. Afterwards, we all went to the bar nearby and discussed the show. I thought it was great - I loved the music, the performances, and the audience interaction. And I especially loved the message, which was both a celebration of the infinite ways to be black and an acknowledgment of the work we all have to put in to do away with prejudice and racism in Brazil and other parts of the world...

Geronimo and Age Ain't Nuthin But a Number

Carnaval is less than a week away! There's such excitement and anticipation here - the buildup is really out of control. Hopefully I will figure out the blocos (bands) I'll parade with soon. But it's great to have so many friends coming in. Dave arrived the other day, and Miles, James and Shawna should be here soon. And after some weeks of construction here and there, the city is officially ready to go (Attention Cambridge, MA and Edison, NJ: the people here have successfully finished expansive construction projects here in less than a month. In the future I need you to end the year long construction projects that clearly can be done in weeks...). Anyway, I'm excited for a performance tonight, a musical of sorts that I'm going to at the Teatro. I've been wanting to see it since last month so hopefully it will live up to expectations. Also I plan on seeing Timbalada on Sunday - I still haven't seen them perform yet, but EVERYONE covers their songs so finally I'll get to hear it straight from them.

My portuguese class is finally coming to an end, and I'll actually miss some of the crazy people in it. On Wednesday I spent some time with Jewel, the older Southern African American guy in the class, who I wrote about earlier. We rode to lunch in his Ford truck (American style...) to meet his friend James. Now Jewel and James should be in their late 60s or early 70s at this point, but they're living life as if they're in their 20s, such a good life lesson. Jewel, on a few different occasions, waited nervously after class to ask this teacher out on a date like he was still in high school, haha. He talks about his son a lot, who wants to go to business school and maybe someday move to Brazil to live with his dad. And James apparently is just chilling in Brazil, with his daughter coming to check on him every once in awhile. Both don't miss home at all - Jewel is from Fort Myers and James is from Oakland. Every once in awhile they'll go on double dates, and they've been to tons of museums and restaurants.  They're both very funny because they have their "senior" moments every now and them. For example, they dwelled on how to turn off the windshield wiper for a good 15 minutes in the car as there wasn't even a cloud in the sky.  James was impressed with me because, in his words, "brothers just don't travel." I appreciate that in this context I can have friends three times my age who are living life with the same sort of freedom of spirit that shouldn't be defined by one's age.

In other news, last night I went to this bar in Rio Vermelho and heard Lazzo Matumbi and his band play again (first time was on New Years Eve). This time they were joined by Geronimo. Now I thought Geronimo was a band, which it very well might be, but last night there was just one man. Maybe its a band and he was their lead singer - who knows? Anyway, it was a nice event. It was in this smaller stand-only room with plain white walls and a stage. I thought the lighting was a little ghetto. It pretty much felt like someone was turning the lights on and off hahahaa. I tried to ignore the girl in front of who couldn't dance and did the same move for 3 hours by herself. But I digress...Lazzo was wearing what seemed to be very traditional West African attire. His presence filled the room just like it did last time and his music was even better this time as I recognized some of the songs. I didn't even notice when Geronimo took the stage, but my friend said it was him and so I listened a little closer. During an awkward interlude he was basically telling everyone "to wrap it up" like they say on those BET commercials during Carnaval. He was talking about penis and vagina for like 10 minutes - nope, not awkward at all...The band was great, they had two guitars, a horn section, which had some amazing solos, a piano player and a secondary voice.  I guess Geronimo and Lazzo do similar types of music because it definitely sounded similar. The highlight of the performance - going back to the question of defining Africa here in Bahia - was when Lazzo Matumbi invited a young man up on stage and they brought out a drum from the back. The man preceded to do some crazy drum solos during two songs.  Occasionally Lazzo would shout "Africa!!!!" as the man conjured up some ridiculous rhythms. It was interesting to see yet another vision of Africa coming into focus - one based generally on the idea of drums and specific rhythms. This is of course the usual connotation that comes with all things African in many parts of the world - and apparently here, it has remained intact...

It's the Little Things in Life

Yesterday I spent a good hour on the rooftop of a friends' apartment at a birthday celebration, just taking in the view of Salvador and watching life move before me. I noticed many other people watching life unfold from their balconies, accompanied by the evening breeze and the brilliant colors of sunset, seemingly setting the sky ablaze. I want to do this more in my life when I am away from the sunny shores of Salvador. Taking that time to just watch and listen reminds me that it really is the little things in life that make it so wonderful. 

And speaking of little things, last night I went to this street performance literally in the middle of this neighborhood. The stage was set up between people's houses. It was so cool and very different to see this type of immersion into music in a somewhat suburban setting. People watched from their windows and danced on their front porches. And as usual, people filled the streets, dancing and drinking merrily (and the angry police patrolled as well). The band, whose name was too complicated to remember - it was one really long name - was pretty good. They performed some of the customary Ile Aiye and Timbalada covers that almost every band seems to do. And they played some of their own music, which was interesting - definitely some axe. The highlight of the performance, by far, was when the lead singer pulled these two little kids onto the stage - a boy and a girl, both no more than 6 years old.  The girl was pretty shy, singing the lyrics whenever she was forced to, but that little boy was a star! The kid grabbed the mic and sang the entire song, getting the crowd to move their hands from side to side periodically. He was a natural - more talented than some of our pop stars in the US definitely (not even kidding here). Seeing this made my day, and the kid wasn't even finished. After the song ended and the crowd erupted, the band launched into a cover of Billie Jean by Michael Jackson - which seemed like an extremely random choice until that little boy started kicking his leg out, spinning and moonwalking it across the stage. WOW! Everyone was jumping up and down with excitement. It was good to see that ol' MJ is still relevant, but it was even better to see why the music seems to flow through the veins of these people. It's because when they're young, they find music everywhere. It's not some chore they are forced to learn or some every once-in-a-while kind of thing, it's literally what defines their lives. And sometimes, like last night, it shows up in their backyard, and they have the chance to perform and do the moonwalk. 

I'm off to plan some adventures for March. With some portuguese under my belt, it's time to explore a bit more of Brasil...but after Carnaval of course!

Festa de Iemanja

I begin with a hilarious story before launching into the ridiculous display that was Festa de Iemanja...A good group of us went to this beach about 45 minutes away called Itapua, and we set down in a cool barraca - basically a bar with food and music. They had some great music, we had some tasty oysters and shrimp, as well as some ballin' queijo (fried cheese on a stick is just so genius, and with some of that oregano, it's on point! Don't know about that syrup though, I only go so far with the experimenting haha). It was so hot I was melting in my chair, but it wasn't bad after a dip in the ocean. Anyway, on the bus ride on the way back, we were all doing different things. One friend was sleeping, another was reading, and then the couple we were with (two cool kids from Berkeley) were snuggling, and then there was me listening to my iPod and watching the coming sunset. Little did I know, the party never stopped. To my right and a seat or two up were two 40 something ladies drinking up a storm, just getting drunk on the bus with no shame. They were laughing at everything. Anyway, I noticed them giggling and glancing at me, and in my head I knew something awkward happening was a high possibility. I tried to ignore it, but eventually I looked in their direction (curiosity is a dangerous thing sometimes) and realized they were saying something to me. I pretended at first not to hear them, but then clearly I did. So I asked them to repeat what they said. As I often do (when I'm feeling lazy in understanding exactly what people are saying), I didn't listen to a word they said. I thought I heard the word "beijo," but I ignored that and just said "ta bom" which basically means OK. Then when one lady got out of her seat, lookin like she was about to tip over, and apparently making her way towards me, I realized that I was about 95% sure I was asked for a kiss. I abruptly said "NO!" after I realized this and wagged my finger, haha. They drank and giggled a little more, then got off the bus...I'm learning that avoiding eye contact sometimes is just so important.

So anyway, yesterday was Festa de Iemanja, an annual celebration of Iemanja, the Candomble goddess of the sea. My friend Rachel and I headed over to Rio Vermelho in the morning, and there were thousands and thousands of people. During the day I think I sweat off like 5 pounds. So the first thing we did is buy some roses.  Most people buy roses as an offering to Iemanja, and they send it through boats far into the ocean.  This is more of a day to thank her for all that she does for Salvador, and the thinking is that the more you sacrifice for her, the more she will continue to provide. People not only sent flowers, but important mementos and other gifts. There was a huge line of people waiting, but we just went onto the beach and put our flowers in one of the boats. I think people were waiting to be taking out to the ocean to personally give their gifts to Iemanja, but we decided to skip this part. Anyway, the scene on the beach was awesome. A huge number of the different Candomble churches were there represented. Most of them had music and dancing going on. But what was so interesting were the rituals on display! People kept passing out after what looked like a priest or priestess would lay his/her hands on them, even kids were doing that. It was cool to see what I've been reading about for awhile on display. As we were walking up the steps to the street, this priest type guy was blessing people. He at first blessed Rachel and so I was like sure I'll get blessed too! It was interesting, he threw rice on me, threw oil at me (some of which got in my eye), threw water at me, put some powder on my throat and my wrists, and said a few words. I said thank you and I was about to keep it moving, but this man was basically like "that'll be 5 reais each." I looked at him puzzled like "did you JUST charge me for a blessing?" especially after you got some oil in my eye and put baby powder all over me (clearly ignorant, but justified thoughts in the moment...). I didn't have small bills so I dropped like a dollar in coins after he got distracted by someone he knew, and we quickly left. It was later explained to me that it was all for Iemanja, but still, can I decide how much I wanna give Iemanja? I just met her, dang...

The rest of the day was so fun. We met up with Tiago, Rachel's boyfriend, who plays for Olodum. Olodum was playing with Psirico, an MPB (pop-ish) band. Psirico had this truck and played on top of it, and Olodum led the truck, rolling like 40 deep with all sorts of percussion, all dressed in light blue. Olodum's director was real cool too, a very commanding guy (I was sad to hear later that he always cheats on his wife, gossip always makes its way into the conversation). The music and the beats were just amazing. And there were people everywhere, dancing and celebrating. We basically walked with the giant crowd and the bands as they played, how intense! My euphoria was temporarily broken when this police officer slapped the spirit out of this guy standing right next to me as we were walking. He slapped that kid so hard, I felt the wind. And then another cop hit him with his baton for good measure. The police here are on way too much of a power trip - and after seeing Tropa de Elite, they really concern me actually. So Olodum/Psirico played for over an hour, after which we sat down to some drinks and espetinhos (shishkebob). I was so tired (and mindful of my money) that I skipped the all-you-can-drink beach party that night, which maybe I'll regret, but to be honest, with Carnaval coming so soon, I'm just trying to keep up with these Brazilians, who have more stamina than I have ever seen. There must be something in the water...(props to Iemanja!)