Carnaval 2008

Dennis arrived about 8 p.m. on February 2. Mause, my sister, Elisa, her daughter Joana and her boyfriend Vinicius, and I were sitting at a bench on Visconde de Pirajá Avenue in front of Mause’s apartment building waiting for him. We waited for about 2 hours since his phone call from the bus depot. I was getting a bit anxious, imagining scenarios which I would tell the others: “Pehaps de cab driver saw the gringo and is taking him all over Rio with the excuse that certain streets are closed for the Carnaval parade. It will cost a fortune to get here.” (This was the most benign of the reasons…) Someone said, “Better than the bandits kidnapping him and taking him up the favela hill to ask for ransom…” And so it went, with each minute counting, with all of us minding the hundreds of yellow taxi cabs passing by, hoping that the next one would stop with Dennis, his smile and his backpack in it.

Well, as we know now, the people at tourist counter in the bus station had told him it was much better to take the bus into Ipanema because it would be faster, given the condition of the city. When we saw Dennis, he was just walking toward us with his backpack. We were happy to see him. There was the obligatory group hug, I took pictures, hugged him and introduced him around.

This was a perfect day to arrive. February 2 celebrates the sea goddess, Yemanjá. It was also Saturday, the first official day of Carnaval, an auspicious day to come to this crazy city, Rio. Welcome to a country that, according to many, because its contrasts and contradictions, “doesn’t exist”!

Sunday February 3 was raining. The rain let go a bit in the afternoon just for us to go to the “concentration”--as it is called—of the Carnaval group, “bloco” or block named Que Merda é Esta? I beg your pardon to translate this, “What Shit Is This?” Concentration is people coming together to a pre-determined place to meet for the event. This particular bloco, meets in front of the restaurant “Peace and Love” just around the corner from Elisa’s apartment. Hundreds of people, most in costumes, gather to drink (a lot) and sing along with the musicians the one song written for the bloco for this year’s celebration.

I do not know about other years, but in 2008 the song ended saying that the question, “What shit is this?” is always pertinent, especially in politics. The rest of the song discussed public scandals involving celebrities such as athletes, artists, and politicians. Some people where carrying political signs. One said, George Bush, por que no te calas? (Why don’t you shut up, GB?} Another told several leaders, including Lula, Brazilian President, and Chavez, the Venezuelan, to shut up also.

In summary, while it is Carnaval, an opportunity to dance, sing, drink and be merry, the bloco also provides an opportunity for political voice, for dissent. The crowd is multiage, of course, from young children to older people, though most who attend are young people, teens and adults. Whatever you dress, whatever you do, you are welcome and perfect for the occasion. Anything goes, just about, though there is also some comportment…

There are musicians up on a truck with sound equipment. The sound is loud and the music repetitive. (Dennis, like many of us, was getting tired of it.) But the bateria is something else. This is a large group of percussion musicians playing the rhythms of samba. The crowd gets to our feet as soon as the cadence starts…

One pair, man and woman, carries the bloco’s flag. In this case, it was an older woman and a young man, perhaps mother and son (though it could have been her lover, you know, this is Rio…) Another man carried a large tray with a big piece of molded (artificial, of course) SHIT. He danced around with this tray, exhibiting it to everyone. This was the symbol of the bloco, after all.

Mause, Elisa, Joana, Vinicius, Dennis and I stayed for about 2 hours, observing the crowd and practicing some steps. When the bloco left to dance through the streets to Ipanema beach, we left to go to another bloco, this time one where Paula plays. Dennis and I were so very uncomfortable with the mass of people there, no space to breath, really, that Mause guided us out to safety. The only other Carnaval related activity that day was watching the schools of samba parade on television. We had enough of noise and crowds… Went on to a great meal prepared at home, and caipirinha, of course…

Today is Fat Tuesday, last day of Carnaval. Yesterday, because of the rain, we just watched the beautiful schools parade… I still want to dance, and today is the only chance.