A Brazilian Dream... in London

London life indeed did suck me in (hope you enjoyed the silence). But if you think I’ve given up on my Brazilian Dream, think again. I am living it, every day, here under the grey sky, where the weather is cold and the beer is warm.

My BF finally came to the UK, 3 months after my return (!), and he is here is to stay. In the UK I mean, and hopefully by my side. And no, we didn’t have to marry.  He would have it stamped on his forehead that he is now Portuguese as well, if he could. That’s why it took so bloody long! So, I now speak Portuguese more than my mother tongue* (I even dream in Portuguese, for those of you who’ve asked me about it) or even English, and my exploration of Brazilian music has gained new heights. We rehearse regularly (did I ever say he’s a flippin’ good guitarist?), that is, if we manage to find time in our crazy, mutually exclusive timetables.

I continue to sing with Paraíso Samba School, doing gigs at least once a month**; not that it’s terribly creative – those enredos really are repetitive, mas uma coisa é*** – it’s good fun! I may come home nearly deaf, having stood next to the bateria during the show, hardly being able to hear my own thoughts, let alone my voice, but there seems to be a direct link between the intensity of rhythmic drumming and the level of endorphins in my brain. That’s why I do it. Oh, and also so that I can say I belong... Hey, you will surely agree that passing all these delirious crowds at the Notting Hill Carnival, waving at them while trying not to drop the mic, and basically giving it all, is not something you do every day. OK, I do it every year (this was my 3^rd time) and I am still not bored.

Photo by bellaphon

Can it get more Brazilian than parading in the carnival? Yes it can. Taking part in the Olympics closing ceremony beats it. Damn hard. And frankly, that deserves a separate post. Promise! A little teaser beneath, but what I want to say is – you will now be hearing news from Brazilian London. One thing though; I will be absolutely subjective, partial, biased and frank. If something deserves my praise, it will get it, if it’s below any standards, I won’t think twice about tearing it to pieces. You’ve been warned.

*Polish

**usually at Guanabara, the next one is this Saturday! http://www.paraisosamba.co.uk/events/

***one of my BF’s favourite phrases, which simply means “one thing for sure”

Because love is not a sin

After a longer pause, I’m back. My absence was due to a virtual whirlpool of events in my family life which has seen one person leave this vale of tears and another one appear, on the same day. It was a time that made me appreciate who I am, where I am and where I am going. And perhaps what life is all about.

Thinking about a lot of things that happen to us during our existence, I realised it’s all about love. Now, mind you, I’m not going to share my very personal love story with you, uh-uh. Let’s keep private stuff private. What I want to tell you is how Brazilians love, or where, to be precise.

Motels. If you think I mean roadside hotels, think again. It’s Brazil we’re talking about. A motel is a place where you never go alone. It’s a love spot. The suggestive names leave you in no doubt; Belle, Black Horse, Free Love Motel, Lamour, Sedutti... The more obvious the name, the more raunchy the atmosphere and decor. More classy places have less explicit names (Magnata, Lumini or Elegance Hotel) but they all have one thing in common: you pay per 4, 6 or 12 hours and are guaranteed maximum privacy. Motels are usually located in less frequented zones, and are guarded off the main road by high walls. You register at the entrance from the safety of your car and then drive straight to the private garage linked with the chosen room. There are no corridors (to avoid bumping into an acquaintance in the least suitable circumstances), no “windows with a view” (except for the most luxurious venues) and you never see the staff. If you make an order, for anything from snacks, to drinks, to food, to lubricants and sex toys, they bring it to you on a silver plate through a rotating window.

In São Paulo, motels are highly visible from the road, with their neon signs blinking seductively at night. They are sometimes so clustered together in one area that for example Rodovia Raposo Tavares, peppered with tiny and bigger motels of all sorts, earned itself a name of a Love Road (Rodovia do Amor).

Source: http://www.guiademoteis.com.br/sao-paulo/zona-oeste/moteis/Motel-Belle

What can you expect inside them? A large bed, of course. After all, that’s what you’re going to need most. And then, depending on the chosen standard and theme (luxurious, super-luxurious, African, Romantic, Erotic, etc.) , you can enjoy a swimming pool, jacuzzi, sauna, a solar roof or even a spider-looking erotic chair and god knows what else.

For the curious, and Portuguese-speaking, I can recommend www.guiademoteis.com.br, a comprehensive guide to motels in Brazil, which aided my research.

A bit about the history. Apparently, motels started to spring up in the 60s when unmarried couples needed somewhere to exchange affection and most hotels wouldn’t let them stay unless they produced a marriage certificate. Obviously, that attitude started to change with time, but these days, due to strained budgets, some young people still live with their parents and thus the motel is the only place they can enjoy the so-much-needed intimacy. Let’s not be so prude, though. The fact that many people are attracted by the brash façades, at times extremely kitsch interiors with fake waterfalls and wild tiger wallpapers, plus a variety of porn channels on TV, is ever so glaring. Also, the season when motels are bursting is... surprise, surprise, the carnival! 

Source: http://www.guiademoteis.com.br/sao-paulo/zona-oeste/moteis/Motel-Belle

Interestingly enough, motels are often recommended in travel guides as a cheap accommodation alternative to the ridiculously expensive hotels, especially in Rio. In fact, it has been suggested that participants of the upcoming UN summit be put up in the city’s numerous motels, as a solution to the apparent bed shortage. (read the article here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-17656123). Hilarious. But then again, who would object to sleeping in a large comfortable bed, relaxing in a sauna and then jumping into the whirlpool while admiring the night sky? I suppose they would prefer to have company, since, as one of the motel’s slogan says, “love is not a sin”. 

The truth about the Internet

I have a confession to make. I have been checking the blog statistics. Religiously. Well, for one, it doesn’t hurt to know who’s reading your blog and where most of the traffic source comes from. Understandably, my audience is mainly from the UK, Poland and Brazil, as I’ve got friends and family in all three of them. Thanks to a fellow blogger link, I’ve gained relative popularity in the US, which now tops the list. Two, by finding out which post are most read I get valuable insight. Or so I thought.

Obviously you can stumble across my blog just by typing in google (or some other browser) key words which I happened to include.  Hence, I wasn’t surprised that suddenly people read me in, say, Germany, Russia, India or Canada. Normal. After all, the blog is entirely searchable. But then suddenly Kuwait, Ghana, Saudi Arabia. Wow, I’m getting popular around the world, I thought naively. And don’t get me wrong, I’d be more than happy to know that residents of those and other countries have an interest in Brazil and my Brazilian adventures. You’re welcome, guys!

But somehow I failed to notice, until last night, that I can actually check by which  searchwords my blog is usually found. So here we go: “carnival 2012 boobs”, ”breasts samba”, ”sexy carnaval 2012”… True, I did write about boobs at the sambadrome (and that post is the most popular indeed), but how come typing in “miss bumbum” redirects to The Brazilian Dream??

It dawned on me. Most Internet users are interested in Brazil not as a country, but as a land of big bums and boobs, hot bodies, Brazilian bikini and ass-shaking. How sad. I think I need to drown my sorrows in a caipirinha. And in a few days’ time I’ll check if this post got the most visits. C’mon, it’s bound to. 

Desfile das Campeãs (Carnival Special 4)

Sorry for being so silent for the past week, but guess what – I went to Rio!!!!! So, instead of moaning in front of the TV screen about how uninventive the costumes / songs/ floats were, I got to see the grandeur and the schools’ true colours live at the sambadrome during the Winners’ Parade (Desfile das Campeãs) last Saturday. And as you can imagine, my sensation was quite different from the one at home. I simply loved it! It was all more stunning than I could ever have imagined. What can I say, you may admire the teeny-weeny detail of a passista’s* skimpy glittery outfit or marvel at the golden threads on a school’s flag, your face glued to the screen, but seeing it with your own eyes, amid thousands of cheering carnival lovers, puts things into perspective. Literally.

The sambadrome is a huge construction with concrete tribunes along the 700-metre-long stretch of the Marquês de Sapucaí street. And unless you are one of those lucky ones able to afford a seat in the camarote (luxurious booth), forget the cherishing the intricacies. Instead, switch to enjoying the exuberant, pulsating string of colourful alas**, every now and then divided by floats sticking out like enormous birthday cakes, with the decorative elements bouncing up and down to the rhythm of samba enredo.

I made numerous videos with my excitedly shaking hands, so if you want a glimpse of what it was like, have a look here, and keep checking the channel for more videos.

Special thanks to Rafael and Lina for making it possible. 

Vou festejar! (Carnival Special 3)

I feel exceptionally inspired these days. And it’s all because of the carnival. By now you may be under the impression that I am mocking the whole thing, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m loving it! Undoubtedly, I would love it even more if I had a chance to actually watch it live, AT the sambadrome, but not this time. To stay in Rio during these two days would absolutely ruin my budget, so I have to make do with transmissions by Globo. And if you think that my bitterness has something to do with that fact, who knows, you may be onto something.

I have recently mentioned that the samba enredos tend to be repetitive. Obviously, the genre has got its requirements and the public has got their expectations, so certain rules have to be followed. The melody line usually sounds a bit complicated at first, especially for European ears, but having listened to it a few times most people remember it rather effortlessly. The chorus or refrain is meant to be catchy as the idea is that all members of the parade and all fans of the school sing the song together. I suppose these days the problem is that all enredos sound very much alike, so it’s very probable that if you learn a few, you may end up mixing them up without noticing. Assuming that a particular one hasn’t already become your personal anthem; followers of samba schools often resemble football fans, fiercely defending their choices.

I’ve come across the diagram below which explains the formula of samba enredo. So, you begin by welcoming the audience (Alô, meu povo!), then go to the very beginnings (tempos primordios) of whatever it is you want to sing about, choose your main area (African roots, the Amazon, the Sertão or Northeastern Brazil), cram your lines with characteristic words (names of African gods and goddesses, warriors or anything related to Indians and their beliefs, famous revolution leaders or national heroes*, etc.) and then warm up the crowd, throw in a bit of magic or praise a (preferably dead) celebrity. This must almost invariably be followed by a common ôôôô or very Brazilian laia laia and we’re done! Now, since it’s an enredo, it means that the song is looped, so you sing it over and over again (until the end of the parade anyway). Easy-peasy. Ready to write your own?

 And these are the most popular words in the samba enredos of carnival day 1 in Rio:

For non-Portuguese speakers, I’ll translate: amor – love, mar – sea, bahia – Bahia (the state), emoção – emotion, sonho – dream, tambor – a big drum, vem – come, vim – I came, chegando – coming, faz – you do / (s)he does, fiz – I did, ancestrais – ancestors, magia – magic, liberdade -  freedom. For me the key word here is festejar – celebrate. Go on, celebrate the carnival before it’s over!

*** Some links to read more for the interested:

Sertão - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sert%C3%A3o

Lampião  - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lampi%C3%A3o

Maria Bonita - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Bonita

Parintins  - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parintins

No use crying over spilt milk (Carnival Special 2)

This one is hot from the press! I am watching the carnival parade, not from a Brahma cabin like I would have preferred, but from the warm seat in front of my computer screen. Luckily, Globo is broadcasting the show live on the Internet (I suppose I could watch it on TV, but I’m actually trying to work at the same time). I’ve figured I needed to share my feelings about the school that has just finished their procession; Porto da Pedra. Grand costumes, grandiose floats and ...a grotesque theme. We were hereby presented with an exaltation of... yoghurt! Actually, not just yoghurt but milk in general and in particular, as various other dairy products have also made their way to the sambadrome. The comissão de frente, a group that opens a parade, symbolised "Lactobacilos da Folia". You know what makes milk turn into yoghurt? That’s what they were. Then came the allegorical floats; “The Milk of The Gods” to say that the heavenly drink is present in various civilisations (no joke?), through a yoghurt feast and the preferred delicacies in China (who would have known!), to “Yoghurt, from the Otoman Empire to the European Courts”. Seriously, have they run of themes for the carnival?? Other schools have decided to pay homage to famous painters, writers or other people that have somehow contributed to Brazil’s cultural growth. Themes such as important historical events or examples of cultures heritage are also common. But milk?

At the end of the parade, the commentators expressed their opinions, visibly struggling not to laugh. Someone said that their enredo was forced. Well, how much can you sing about the white liquid? Globo itself called the theme “unusual”. Surely “cheesy” would have been more appropriate.

Now, don’t get me wrong. The costumes were beautiful, the floats all glittery and sparkingly chee.. cheerful, the dancers shook their feathers sensually and all that. But as one person on the studio commented, it was all like “squeezing milk out of a stone”.*

http://g1.globo.com/carnaval/2012/fotos/2012/02/veja-fotos-do-desfile-da-porto-da-pedra.html#F375240

* é como tirar leite da pedra were the exact words, how accurate.

Watch the carnival live!

This is a very quick post just to let you know (those of you who are still awake) that you can watch the carnival parade in Rio live here, today and tomorrow:

http://g1.globo.com/rio-de-janeiro/carnaval/2012/desfile-apuracao/cobertura/

Enjoy! And let me know what you think! ;)

Image source: 

http://twincities.slideshowpro.com/albums/047/481/album-305825/cache/carnival_2-19_0002.sJPG_900_540_0_95_1_50_50.sJPG?1329706810

Ilú Obá de Min (Carnival Special 1)

So the carnival is here and it would be a sacrilege not to celebrate it. Strangely enough, not all Brazilians sport this annual revelry and, sadly, that includes my boyfriend. The main reason, according to him and many of his compatriots, is that it is not what it used to be, the highly institutionalised parade at the sambadrome topping the list. I have heard quite a few people complain about the quality of today’s enredos (samba theme songs), which actually qualifies for a separate post, as well as about extreme nudity which seems to be prevalent among the female samba dancers these days. Let’s face it, the samba costumes have never been prissy, except maybe for the allegorical fantasias*, but I have to admit that those plastic boobs sticking out a mile do ruin the whole thing. Revealing – yes, sexy – yes, slutty – no. Unfortunately, the latter has become the new chic to some.

Source: http://g1.globo.com/sao-paulo/carnaval/2012/noticia/2012/02/quero-causar-abafar-no-carnaval-vale-tudo-diz-vice-miss-bumbum.html

Despite the above mentioned downsides, I still want to experience the carnival as it is, since I can’t magically teleport myself back in time to enjoy its magnificent past. Nor do I have any comparison. I may claim to have been a Brazilian in my previous life, but that somehow doesn’t empower me to remember the original beauty of the greatest party on Earth. But if you don’t have what you want, want what you have. And what there is plenty of in São Paulo are the blocos or mini-parades not confined to the rigid concrete space of sambadrome, but allowed to freely roam the streets. Sure, they’re not as lavish or impressive as the main parade, but neither as costly (they’re free!) and way more authentic!

Last night I saw Ilú Obá de Min, a bloco devoted to exploring the Afro-Brazilian heritage, so the dancers, conveniently using stilts (conveniently – because at least you could see them from the crowd!), represented various African Orixas; deities that correspond to various forces of nature and whose archetypes are manifestations of these forces.** You could see, for example, Oxalá – the father of spiritual purity and pure light:

Good fun in a crowd that at times became too dense, but never stopped jumping and enjoying the vibe. Here’s a taste of the night and I’m off to another bloco....

There's another video here: http://youtu.be/fcKyuvBmrlg - check it out!
(can't seem to be able to include a miniature)

*the fancy costumes representing various themes
** read more about Orixas: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orisha

To-do list

I had another dream that I went back to Europe. No, no, no, it can’t be, I’m definitely still in Brazil! – I thought soberly, my mind still sleeping. Is it my subconscious poking me?  The first thing I did when I woke up was grab a pen and some paper. Number one: Carnival. Ha, that’s what it’s all about! I just can’t imagine being in Brazil at this time of the year and not taking part in the biggest party on earth. Last year’s visit to Rio when, having seen all the preparations and the frenzy at Sapucaí*, I had to pack my bags and fly back to London (to teach my otherwise wonderful students) was painful enough. As I’m a member of a samba school in London, I see it almost as my obligation to get some first-hand experience at the roots of this whole madness. Trouble is, I don’t have the ticket yet, the main reason being I’m still hesitating between staying in São Paulo (acceptable) or going to Rio (ideal). The second option would mean using up probably all my savings, IF I manage to find a place to stay in Rio at all. I have contacted all my friends there asking for help and some floor space, but they either skilfully evaded my request or opted for “I’m-too-busy-to-reply” attitude. Thanks guys. Well, I guess I’ll just leave it till the last minute. Any useful comments or advice welcome.

Number two: samba school rehearsals. I just can’t seem to let it go, can I. Musically, carnival samba is not the highest form of art, I admit (and foresee a wave of protests), given that you can’t always understand what the puxadores** are singing and most enredos** are rather repetitive. The truth is, however, that this form of samba irradiates so much energy that your hair stand on ends at the first beats of the (many) drums, your hips start to shake un- or controllably and a stream of electricity spirals around your body enveloping it in an almost sensual pleasure. At least that’s my experience (from London, which doesn’t count, and Mangueira last year in Rio). Apparently, those rehearsals can be greater fun that the parade itself, as they allow for a more hands-on participation. Well, I can’t compare, knowing only one side, and I definitely do not intend to have my hands on anybody...

Number three: blocos of street carnival. This is getting boring. In the weeks preceding the carnival, revellers can join dozens of street parties, less ostentatiously glamorous and more relaxed than the samba schools. Well, what can I say. I’m going to jump on the bandwagon and if you happen to be in São Paulo, you can join me:

http://www.timeout.com.br/sao-paulo/en/aroundtown/events/569/academicos-do-baixo-augusta

Number four: the beach. Finally changed the topic. What?? You still haven’t been to one?! Don’t ask. Let’s just say it wasn’t my priority. No bikini shots planned either.

Number five: anything that springs up and is worth my time (and money). I really don’t want to bore you with my never-ending wishlist.

*Sambadrome Marquês de Sapucaí or simply Sambadrome where all the samba school parade at the carnival in Rio.

** singers singing samba enredo – the carnival theme song