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Published: April 29th 2011
Carnaval de Salvador
The biggest street party in the world. Close to 3 million people in the road, seven days straight, drinking twenty out of twenty-four, sleeping every two days, sex on the beach/street/bus, the leading musicians in the country playing the same circuit, unrivaled levels of euphoria… Well, this is what the Brazilian tourist board and enthused residents tell you. However, from a neutral observer, can I really look my Mac in the screen and say it was as crazy as they claim it to be?
Well actually yes. A mammoth event in the Bahian calendar, Carnaval is essentially a huge send-off to summer and ends on Ash Wednesday which signifies the beginning of Lent. Being in the Southern Hemisphere, the Brazilian summer ends at the beginning of the English spring and the major musicians go into hibernation after having spent the whole summer holding public rehearsals in preparation for the event itself.
The entire population of Salvador is barely 3 million, the fact that this amount hits the streets every day during carnaval should give some idea to the huge influx of tourists during this week. I met more English people during this period than in the previous 7 months I spent here. How did I meet them? Well the first two were wearing the national shirt with Rooney and Crouch on the back obviously. My Brazilian friends have a strange passion for pale girls so begged me to go and introduce myself on the off chance that they knew some English roses in the vicinity.
Crouch was actually quite a nice bloke, I helped him chat to a sultry lady who appeared to have few scruples. He soon got the hang of Brazilian courtship as after 1 minute of unintelligible conversation I was told to inform him that she wanted a kiss. This I duly did and he was quite confused when I passed on the message. I think he thought that I was winding him up. As if it would be funny to see a flabby, pale gringo with no Portuguese try and seduce a Baiana by kissing her after 30 seconds of blabbing. This of course would be funny if it didn’t work so damn often.
Carnaval revolves around the
Trio Elétrico. This is in essence a lorry travelling at two mph with a band playing on top of it. The bands are literally groundbreaking musicians in this part of the world, all following each other on consecutive lorries, about 500 metres between each one. These aren’t new bands either. There are some that have been playing the carnaval circuit for twenty years, legends of Brazilian music like Carlinhos Brown, Olodum and Daniela Mercury. These mix in with the comparative one-hit wonders of Bahia to create an incredible sound, catering for all tastes. For perspective, our equivalent would be a line-up like:
o Rolling Stones
o Amy Winehouse
o Tinie Tempah
More than one hundred of these
trio-elétricos make the trip along the three separate circuits in a single day. There are three ways to experience Carnaval de Salvador which are (in order of my personal preference);
Bloco, Pipoca and
Camarote.
The
Bloco revolves around the trios. It is just a gigantic rope stretched around the perimeter of the lorry and reaching all the way back to the next one. The rope is secured by the
‘cordeiros’ (rope-bearers) and its function is to stop anyone who isn’t part of the bloco to enter. When you buy access to a bloco, you are basically just buying a t-shirt which allows you to enter and leave as you wish. When the ‘cordeiros’ realise that someone with the required t-shirt wants to enter/leave they all heave the rope up and let you pass. Good for their trapezius muscles I suppose.
The most sought after blocos can cost £300 just for a day. To afford this in Brazil, especially Salvador, you have to be very well off. This buys you proximity to the musicians but the principal motive is a closed sanctuary. The idea being that one has the security of being inside a bloco with other people of a similar wealth and status. The rope serving as protection from the less desirable characters who accompany the blocos on the other side of the rope for free. The
Pipoca crowd.
The Pipoca is similar to the bloco but with none of the security nor comfort. None of the cost either. You accompany the trio but on the outside of the rope with other people that cannot afford to be inside. Truth be told, it can be extremely uncomfortable at times. However, providing you take nothing of value and are drunk enough to ignore the jostling and toe-treading, it is as good a way to experience carnaval as the bloco. Maybe better, in the sense that you are with the ordinary people as opposed to the elite minority caged in by the thick, knotted rope.
Finally the
Camarote. This is similar to Rio’s Carnaval as it turns the whole experience into a spectator sport. The week before Carnaval, temporary stands are set up all the way along the circuit. These are the camarotes which are constructed high above the road to give the privileged few inside them an unchallenged view of the whole event.
Every camarote is different. They range from the basic, which provides just a bar and a viewing area, to the luxury, with all you can eat/drink on hand from the best restaurants and beverage suppliers in the city itself. As a bonus, every waitress is a
‘gata’ (literally translates as cat but means attractive girl, minx is perhaps our closest translation). According to my host brother,
“Those inside the best camarotes don’t even watch Carnaval pass.”
For those who want the full carnaval experience; dancing in the street with the masses, the beat of the drums on the trios reverberating inside your very core, the camarote is not the way to do it. It is favoured more by the slightly older bunch who want to be able to watch the groups pass at their leisure. Remember, these musicians are at the forefront of Bahian culture, past and present. Who wouldn’t want to be able to see all their favourite bands perform over just a couple of days?
I personally was able to experience every part of the celebration. Two days in the bloco, two in the camarote and three in the pipoca. A friend gave me two t-shirts for the Olodum bloco which was fantastic and the best day of the week without a doubt. The toilet and bar is provided in the following lorry with beer about 30p a 330ml can.
The rhythm of Olodum is electrifying, the percussion and wind instruments combine to provide almost primitive enjoyment. You see everyone else within the Bloco following the beat in a trancelike state that cannot be compared to any other musical display I have ever witnessed. Thankfully, Class A drugs haven’t infiltrated Salvador’s society yet so the pleasure is solely brought about by the genius of the musicians and the unique brilliance of the setup.
A student colleague of mine reserved us two days in the Federal University camarote. Mostly for other students and university staff, it was very basic and cost about £20. The other end of the scale would be the Camarote de Salvador for which twenty times that amount was the going rate.
I couldn’t afford to pass every day in the camarote or bloco and nor did I want to. The hectic nature of the pipoca is extremely worthwhile and you are exposed to a huge variety of people although it can be dangerous. The large majority of foreign tourists go by pipoca, literally meaning popcorn, probably because they are unaware of the prejudices and class divides that exist within Brazilian society.
Carnaval is a huge deal here. Whenever I meet a Brazilian, the sequence of questions asked generally follows the following sequence:
• Where are you from?
• How can you be from England if you are white?
• Have you managed to get hold of any Brazilian women?
• Are you going to be here for Carnaval?
The Bahians describe Carnaval as a completely democratic festival, no-one worries about colour, wealth or status. Anyone reading this blog will have realised that this is completely false and in fact the whole idea of blocos and camarotes is to divide and exclude.
Brazil being Brazil, the only people that can afford the best blocos are inevitably white. By contrast, the only Brazilians that are willing to sacrifice the carnaval and be subjected to the unpleasant experience of carrying the immense rope for five or six hours are inevitably black. Therefore, a top bloco in Salvador is essentially a black perimeter protecting the white inside. An aerial shot would look like the cross-section of a choc ice.
All the inequalities present in the city of Salvador and state of Bahia are displayed in clear sight during this time of euphoria and celebration. The contrast is truly incredible. At the top of the tree we have the well-groomed white man in the camarote having his every basic need catered to in luxurious conditions. Way down at the bottom we see the 8 year-old girl with patches in her hair and clothes. She scrabbles in the mud and urine for beer cans whilst being stepped on by revellers. If she is lucky, she will collect a kilo’s worth of aluminium cans which she will later drag through the crowds in a heavy sack and exchange for the equivalent of 40p.
The concept of the camarote is that those who can afford it can enjoy the spectacle without the unpleasantness of seeing the poor in these desperate conditions. There is no doubt that Carnaval is an incredible event. Imagine it as the equivalent of a wonderful football match between Brazil and England. During the game we have all the following; diving, coin-throwing, cheating, violence and spitting. The game itself however is a beautiful display of one of the most simplest and purest pleasures that exists. This is Carnaval. A fantastic event marred by unpleasantness which the vast majority choose to ignore.
I’m ashamed that it has been 3 entire months since my last blog. I’m also slightly annoyed that I haven’t been receiving complaints and encouragement to put up a new one but they say blogging is a fickle business.
My excuse for the dearth of bloggery is that I was given a new position in February as teacher of Information Technology. I was truly honoured to be asked to teach this course, principally because of the faith shown in me by the project. I am completely responsible for the course and the contents. I give 4 classes a day, 4 days a week. At this rate, when I leave here I will leave about 150 people computer literate which should help provide a better future for themselves.
However this new responsibility has led me to be less inclined to spend much of my free time in front of a computer. As Salvador is receiving torrential rain at the moment, the number of students has diminished rapidly. The favelas are so badly serviced that roads are almost impossible to use during heavy rain. I should be giving a class right now but as there are no students I thought I would finish my extended carnaval blog.
Asides my new position, I have several updates which I will include in more detail in a later blog along with the one on Candomblé promised in 2010. To summarise for the time being, in late January I went to visit the city with possibly the most beautiful natural setting in the world, Rio de Janeiro. There I was spoilt by my big cousin for ten days and had a fantastic time. When I came back in February, I started training Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu three times a week, a captivating martial art which I’m thoroughly enjoying.
Regarding Portuguese, I subscribed to another course that is actually in a university and designed to help Brazilian students with their own level of literacy. A rare privilege for foreigners. The level is obviously much higher than I am used to in my other class which is only for foreign students of Portuguese but I was recommended by a friend and am pleased to say that I am able to keep up with the class. In fact, in the last grammar test I did better than some of the Brazilians themselves which was encouraging.
My family is as good to me as ever and as I creep into my last three months here, I have to say it is highly unlikely that I won’t be back.
With this blog, I aimed to provide a slightly different take on Carnaval than the happy, celebration version we are used to. I wanted to show the substantial ugly side that undoubtedly exists. I hope I achieved this. Until the next time, as always your comments are more than welcome.
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Manuel
non-member comment
Quality comment
Marquinho Very well put. I agree regarding Carnaval aparthied. My first year here I went to the final samba school competition (what people usually understand to be "Carnaval") on my own, and had to walk through hair raisingly dodgy back alleys and favela to find an entrance. This year I went as a client of an investment bank - the only poor people near me were giving me beer. Might as well have been a different Carnaval. Brazilians are funny about apathied though. They seem ok with it provided it is not legislated. If it is not law, it does not exist. Also, you missed out the part about lots of scantily clad Brazilian women snogging anyone who wanders the bloco with their mouth open...