CARNAVAL!

Ari, Me and Sheena in our Carnaval costumes for Muzenza.
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Carnaval. Holy Freakin Crap is all I have to say. I have never experienced anything like this in my life and I dont know if anything will ever come close.

Take the crowds of the Macy´s Day Parade and The New Years Eve ball falling in Times Square, the alcohol and lude behavior of Halloween in IV and Mardi Gras, the randomness of Street performers, the food of the Hilton Apple Fest, the loud BOOMS of a fourth of july fireworks celebration, and the intensity of a marching band competition, combine all of those together and it won´t even come CLOSE to what Carnaval was like!

The beginning of a Trio Electrico.
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Carnaval, in Salvador, is the largest open air party in the entire world. It isn´t heavily advertised nor does it have the fame of the Samba shaking, decked out glittery costumes and naked women of the party in Rio, but it is 1000 times more exciting. In Rio, you pay a bunch of money to get a ticket and sit on the outside of the parade to watch as all the samba schools do their shows as they pass. In Salvador, you ARE the parade.

There are these huge, giant, Trio Electricos that pass down the streets from 8 am until 6am the following morning. Each truck is roped off forming a Bloco where the performers are inside and if you signed up to be in the bloco of your favorite band, you are in their dancing right beside your favorite performer. You get a shirt, or a costume with the bands name on it and you are in the ´protected´area of the bloco dancing and singing down the street. If you don´t have money to be in the bloco, no worries. You can just join the hordes of people that are right up behind the trio electrico or who are smashing into one another following along on the outside of the ropes. Either way, you are still part of the parade.

A sampling of the crowds from the 7th floor apt.
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The Trio Electricos are 18-wheelers that have built platforms all around and above the cab and the band sits on top of this giant structure as it rolls down the street. The sides of the Trio Electrico are covered from top to bottom with the biggest speakers I have ever seen. Just massive. And everything is painted, decorated and colored with huge neon lights telling the band or performers name.

The bloco begins with a school or two possibly playing Capoeria, followed by a Batucada, then a group of people in traditional dress, then all of the tshirt clad locals who paid the money and finally the star band behind on the Trio Electrico. As the bloco moves forward and the trio electrico slides up the crowds get more intense, sometimes more violent, but always louder, louder, and louder until it is just once giant massive group of people jumping up and down in unison and siging along.

All sweaty and gross after performing
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Only one time was I in that giant massive group of people on the sidelines watching the band pass by and jumping up and down with everyone. If I stood still, I would have been trampled. And I am sure that I lost some hearing in the process as the speakers I was talking of before were literall 5 feet from my ear drum. Most of the time I would watch the blocos pass from Ari´s 7th floor apartment on Avienda de Sete.

Yes. For the week I was in Salvador I was living in an apt right on the main Carnaval circut. There would be no sleep that first week and I would get sick towards the end. The blocos literally passed until 6am everyday for 7 days and I could only hope to fall asleep before the next one came by and pray that I would either be in my first Rem cycle or that my ear plugs would hold up. If I did manage to fall asleep any earlier, I would often be woken by the walls, the floor, the organs inside my body all vibrating from the sound of the speakers on the street below.

Ditto.
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It got to be so intense that we had to escape the apartment in between blocos, battle our way through the crowds and go to Pelo where it was only a margin quieter. Our 20 minute normal walking time took at least 45 minutes. It didnt matter, at least we were out of the apartment, not going crazy and letting our minds take a rest from the headaches that we all had. I love drums, but Jeez-us this was too much. We had to yell to one another in the apartment if we wanted to speak and really all you could do was just lay still until another bloco passed and maybe try to read a bit. Thinking back on that now has honestly just given me a headache.

Salvador at Dawn. Carnaval still going strong!
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I do have to say that if it had not been for performing in Carnaval I think I would have not enjoyed it one bit. That´s right kids, I performed in Carnaval! We performed with a band called Muzenza, our group was broadcasted on Salvador television, and I was interviewd and photographed for a newspaper about a Capoeria school! What? What? What! you say. I´ll explain...

The second night I arrive I go with Ari and her roommates to their Capoeria class. I have played in a roda (pronounced hoda) 5 or 6 times before and took a few classes about a year ago. I primarilly went because of the dance rehearsal afterwards (they wanted more random people to be in their group and join the performance in Carnaval for free). I paid 10$ to take 3 hours of dance and capoeria classes and needless to say my butt was kicked!

Carnaval Decorations at Pelo
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After Capoeira we switch teachers and this couple from Argentina along with their Argentinian dance students, leads rehearsal for the performance. Since I danced Afro-Brazilian in SB the moves were very similar and i caught on just fine. They were simple steps besides and it was basically follow the leader. Although, I will have to say though I thought I had a lot of energy. In SB i would never stop, I´d be screaming and shaking it and sweating everywhere but those damn Argentinians kicked my ass! I kept up just fine but It was check-mate. They blew me out of the water with their endurance and instensity. I still can´t get over it! I felt like the fat girl in dodgeball but I will just blame it on jet leg. Holy Crap man.

Getting ready to go out and shake it!
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So we were scheduled to perform two days from that rehearsal which was good because I needed to rest. I hadn´t worked my body that hard in a long time and although I enjoy the muscle aches after a great workout signifying a job well done, I was toast.

Performace day comes and we are scheduled to perform at 8pm. Phil and I get there at 7 to get our costumes and meet the group but no one is around. We wait and wait and wait and then...The group starts showing up sparadically between 10 and 12. Then, finally at 2 in the morning, 7 hours after I arrived, we all perform. I have heard about Brazilian time being slower, but this was just ridiculous. I had no energy left to dance and for some reason the ropes weren´t up. That meant that there were all these random people in our bloco pushing you shoving you, crowding in your space, and that any dancing I even attempted was useless because there wasnt any room. Not to mention I am stepping in piles of liquid which I hope to be water, getting beer splahed on me and trying to ignore all of the sexual harrassment that was taking place to me and other woman. It was...intense.

We danced for an hour and a half and then I head home and try to fall asleep. The highlight of the evening however was when the Mastre from the Capoeria school came up to me and the other two foreigners and asked if we wouldnt mind being interviewd by a journalist. HELL NO!  says this ham who thrives on being the center of attention. Where´s the camera? Who do I smile for? Can I see the picture after youve taken it?

So it ended up being that we were interviewed and photographed for publicity for the Capoeria school. Eventhough I had only taken one class with this Mastre I spoke about how he was a great instructor, that Capoeria has changed my life and that other foreigners should study with Mastre Boa Genge should they travel to Brazil. I am almost positive too that it was written that I was there on an international exchange, study abroad program. It was kinda bullcrap but he is a businessman and my white face and smile, along with the others will probably bring him more students eventually.

Phil was photographed mostly while playing in the Hoda, so I am sure that he will be in the paper for his great skills; Mica was a regular from LA who was actually on a study abroad program working on her doctorate, so her words will mostly likely be used; and while I also did the above two, they will probably use the pictures of me for a brochure. My white face is front and center in between to native dark black Brazilians, with our arms around one another like we had just made life long friendships.

Ah, the business world. I hate it, but love that my picture was taken!

The other two evenings we performed in Carnaval things went much more smoothly. Apparently the first night our trio electrico was broken and thats why we didnt perform for 7 hours later. Granted, we never started on time the next two nights either but we adopted the Brazilian time and just left the apt 3 hours after the scheduled performance. We still, both times had to wait about 2 hours to begin the parade but in the meantime we all hung out, I learned more Pourtuguese and just all laughed with our new friends. AND! This time there were ropes! Being actually inside the bloco was a life saver. It was still crowded but nothing like the craziness of the first night. I only had to kick beer cans out of my way but I could at least shake it.

My favorite memory of performing though would have to be when the skies opened up and just downpoured on us as we were dancing. It felt as though we were transported to an African Village and we were honestly doing a rain dance. The crowds dispersed, but noone in our group stopped dancing. Our hands and faces went up to the heavens and there was just laughter and screaming and jumping and dancing all around. We were all hugging eachother and moving to the music together and each just taking a minute, while still dancing, to enjoy their own personal magical moment. I never stopped dancing that entire time, I don´t think it was possible. It was the kind of moment and the kind of feeling that only happens everyonce in awhile. It was pure joy. Everything was filled with love and completeness and the rest of the world seemed to stop.

Dancing and singing in the rain. Fred Astaire had NOTHING on those moments.

And that in a nut shell sums up the Carnaval experience. Overwhelming, intense, glad I did it, glad its over and dancing, dancing, dancing.