Pula! Pula!!

If there were any way for me to recount the happenings of this past week in one email,believe me, I would find that way. And you all know that I would. However, since that is right about up there with the cow jumping over the moon and the dish running away with the spoon, we shall make a feeble attempt.

First of all, just a little history lesson about Carnaval: it is the festival right before Lent- the season of penance that prepares beleivers for Easter. It also coincides with Spring Festivals of fertility and birth in other religions. Traditionally, the idea is to get all your partying out in the week before Lent, and then spend 40 days cleansing yourself for Easter. Just like Mardi Gras, only for about 5 days instead of 1. In Bahia the festivities consist of parades of bands on top of huge trucks basically made out of speakers, which travel down the street slowly enough so that everyone can dance along beside it. These trucks of music are called trio electricos. One can pay to view the parade from constructed balconeys called Camarotes, or one can pay to dance in a corded off area right around the trio electrico, or one can not pay and dance around in the street wherever one wishes. A gente decided to go the no-money rout, albeit the more dangerous one, and dance to whatever trio we happened to be around at the time.

When we arrived the entire city was preparing for the Carnaval, and the scale of it impressed and excited me. I really had no concept of what it would be like there, but watching the trios line up and the Camarotes being constructed sent electirical chills through me. On the first night of Carnaval, we sat on the fence lining the beach and watched the beginning of the parade, thinking that it would be fine to just stay there, hop around a bit in our spot, and enjoy all the bands going by. We soon found that that would be impossible. First of all because it was so crowded, especially when an especially popular trio went by and everyone with it squished us all up against the railings and made it impossible to dance, and second of all because- well because it was impossible to dance, really! I don't remember how we started, but soon we were dancing in the street in between trios and it was infinitely better! We had a little more room to dance, we could dance with anyone we chose, and before I realized it we were an hour down the street from our hostel and it was 3 am! This we repeated for 4 nights in a row- wake up late, relax and store up energy for the night, have a bit do eat and perhaps go to the beach, and then when it got dark we would drink a caipirinha to give us a little kick and dance until sunrise!

It all blurs together into one huge dance-fest, but here are a few points I remember well:

-there was a table across the street from the pousada that was making caipirinhas out of every imaginable fruit and I loved them. I think my favorite was maracujá and mango mix.

-On the first night I was stopped by a Bahian woman who apparently thought I was dancing way to much like an American and who gave me a short course in how to dance Brasilian. I learned my lesson well, I think, because later I was told that I danced like a 'Bahiana', and I think that is a compliment I will carry with me for the rest of my life!

-I fell in love with a young Brasilian with whom I danced for the whole night, but- what tragedy!- I lost him in the crowds that night and saw only a glimpse of him two days later but he faded again into the crowd. (So here's your lesson, ladies: when you find a boy that can dance, don't let go of him!!) (And ok, so maybe I didn't fall in love, but he was very sweet and I really enjoyed having a dance partner that knew how to dance!)

-On the 3rd night we decided to go to the historic part of the city and experience a little of the Carnaval there. It was a little more authentic- not so much pop music and a huge party but a huge get-together of people with african music and old ladies and young children dancing in the street. Some friends of ours started doing a hip hop dance they had learned in a class, and soon not only were we all attempting to follow, but so were about 15 Bahian kids who thought we were the funniest thing they'd ever seen. However, they copied every move us white folks did, and they loved it. I loved it too. I love that music and movement creates a kind of communication that transcends languages, as well as laughter. One little girl just died laughing every time I tried to dance with her, and a little boy wanted a kiss from me before I left. That was definitely the highlight of my week. :o)

The energy of the people and the willingness to move freely to all kinds of music was liberating, and having to share a room with 13 other people in the heat of Bahia was definitely a learning experience as well.

*in a deep announcers voice:*
"We'll be back next time with more about the life of an American in Brasil. What do they really study in schools?"