Wednesday 8 April 2009

"Olha que coisa mais linda..."


I sit here in the bus terminal, waiting. It is time to finally leave Rio de Janeiro, after three intense weeks... It is tough to leave this city behind... Very much! It is very difficult to leave behind friends, intense memories, so much joy, strong and varied emotions. It is very difficult to leave behind Carnival ‘blocos’ (blocks), samba circles, joyful ‘botecos’ (pubs), endless parties, unique landscapes, nature, beach, the city and its huge mess, countless smiles. Maybe it is complicated to leave the Redeemer’s arms because I feel home here... Or maybe just because the city’s charm is really huge, exciting, unique. But for now it is time to move on. Leave Rio to come back some day, maybe in a very short term, maybe only in the wings of dream and 'saudade'. But the desire to come back lives inside me, in a very intense way...







Once uppon a time in the ‘bloco’...

Noise. In crescendo, as the crowd gathers. From time to time a threat of samba in the warm up of a tambourine, cuíca or bass-drum, slowly, without any sort of rush. The hubbub keeps growing as everyone gets happier and happier. A rabbit arrives accompained by the bearded Snow-White. The seven dwarfs didn’t come, or maybe they’re just lost in the crowd. Further away a group of ballet dancers is finishing, or maybe starting, to practice their silly choreography. A Gnome and a Smurf join in, as well as many more... Meanwhile a manly female-nurse helps those in need while a Arab runs after Uncle Sam throwing his show at him. When the music finally starts the crowd is already a compact mass of people, a sort of zoo of which not only animals are a part of. At the first chords joy arrives and this block painted by Dalí starts to move, dancing and jumping tirelessly, singing in unison old musics that are part of my childhood’s Carnivals in Loulé. Here people also look at ZéZé’s wig and Chiquita also dresses in a banana peel, most probably after insisting that 'cachaça' is water, ending up as the catwalk’s only star. But there are also new rhythms, many new only to me. Suddenly a group of misses shows up to wave with their hairy arms at this mass of very warm people. To refresh them a occasional outflow of water is thrown out the window, while cold beer refreshes them on the inside. Looking at this mess of clothing and colour one feels like looking for Wally. Ah! There he is! Is he a she? I decide to rub my eyes and focus, so that I’m sure it is really Wally. Nope, the heat is not taking me to a desert of mirages. I do seem him right there... Well, instead of staring I decide to fix the mini-skirt, the ears and bow in my head and continue looking for Mickey once more, or maybe just for a can of beer, as the heat is strong and the ‘bloco’ doesn’t stop...


Foto: Erika Tambke






"Brilha Portela...
...das trevas renasce o amor..." Two hours passed by and here I am, seated, still awake, still hearing this samba, indifferent to the immense tiredness I’m feeling, unable to sleep. The 4 days without stopping, from Carnival block to Carnival block, with too little sleep and too much tiredness, can’t outweigh the emotion that keeps me awake. I was dancing samba in the World’s biggest stage for only 30 minutes but I did feel like a star, glowing very up in the sky. Maybe just because I was parading with a school with the same name as mine, repeated and sung to exhaustion during those 30 minutes that felt like 5. When I entered the avenue my name echoed loudly, sung in the hearts of the many that cheered with the vibrant and intense drumbeat, the allegories dancing in the feet of Rio’s most beautiful people, with the different wings like mine that danced running or ran dancing. I can only remember entering the avenue and seeing an immense light, smiles, people waving in the middle of the contagious joy that came down the stands. As the sound echoed I gained wings, starting to fly over the sambodromo, forgetting about who I was, feeling free like a falling star or a comet crossing the skies. The Portela shined up high, I didn’t shine as much as she did, but for those few moments I was also a start going down the avenue.

Foto: Erika Tambke



Rio de Janeiro, Brasil, Março 2009

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