it wasn't until the next day when he was back with the group that he realised they were moto taxis offering him a ride on their motorbike... genius!
Tuesday, 5 April 2011
the carnival effect
a friend of mine, who will remain nameless...
walked home from carnival one night and was approached by a number of men trying to sell him a motorbike helmet. he couldn't really understand why. but, not wanting to be conspicuous in his foreigness, he politely declined.
it wasn't until the next day when he was back with the group that he realised they were moto taxis offering him a ride on their motorbike... genius!
it wasn't until the next day when he was back with the group that he realised they were moto taxis offering him a ride on their motorbike... genius!
salvador carnival day four - filhos de gandhi
on my solitary walk to campo grande on sunday night, I start to notice the groups of men in robes and necklaces.
I am aware of sticking out like a sore thumb, so naturally slip into the all important confident stride and ensure I do not make eye contact.
I see these guys growing in numbers and becoming boisterous groups of confident men, not disimilar from our very own brits abroad.
our teacher has filled us with fear of girls being lassued with necklaces, boys not taking no for an answer, pharmacies selling spirigel mouth spray to combat the spread of germs...
as it was I didn't have much to fear, the boys were not going to waste their time and energy fighting with you, so a polite no with a smile did the trick.
that said I did come away with three free necklaces...
necklace one - I gave a guy a light and spoke to him about London
necklace two - given to me by an old woman who liked my samba dancing
necklace three - thrown to me by a filho on a passing float with, what I like to think as, very good aim.
this was an amazing blocco to witness. we walked passed it before it had started on its course, already impressive.
but when it later caught up with us it was insane. thousands and thousands of men. all in full gandhi gear, dancing and singing.
I managed to avoid a dowsing, but the little I did receive I hoped would act as a mosquite repellent at least.
there was one song that came on where all the filhos, all of them, lifted their bottles in the air and sprayed in unison. very odd, and I'm not sure of the meaning and relevance, but it was an incredible sight.
things I have received for free so far
x3 filhos de gandhi necklaces
x1 palm leaf rose
x1 invitation into a samba blocco...
x1 palm leaf rose
x1 invitation into a samba blocco...
Monday, 4 April 2011
filhos de gandhy
a concept which I am not sure gandhi had in mind...
the biggest blocco of them all, I am told eighteen thousand strong, and also one of the most expensive.
men dressed in white robes, with sandles, turbans and amongst lots of other accessories, the all important blue and white necklaces.
in some instances what looks like hundreds of the things strung around their necks and over both shoulders.
the aim of the game?
to give the necklaces away to girls in return for a kiss...
Sunday, 3 April 2011
salvador carnival day three - camarote
saturday night's camarote has a very different flavour.
before I head out I have one very important thing to do, customise my abada. apart from the fact that they only had extra large men's sizes left, I realised on friday night that customisation is key.
you'd be amazed at the effort women had gone to. walking around town on saturday I now notice all of the tailors offering this service. women have turned their t-shirts into dresses, halterneck tops, boob tubes and crop tops.
I have not allowed myself the time for a tailor so with scissors in hand I get busy. I decide to go with a deep backed vee, being careful all the while not to cut off my all important logo, as this is the passport I need for entry into the world of carnival exclusivity.
I'm pleased with my handiwork, although perhaps I should not quit the day job (oops too late...) to become a designer or pattern cutter.
we meet as any western group would... at mcdonalds and head out. it's still early so the parade route is quite quiet. we find our camarote and head in to explore.
amongst the sea of yellow we find the bar (slightly overpriced) and a viewing balcony already full of people so we can't really see the street below.
we end up standing down on street level, still within the safety of our camarote. but the view and atmosphere here on ground level is much more exciting than the somewhat sterile environment upstairs.
the crowd is electric and I just can't quite take in the enormity of this carnival, however much I look around and absorb it there's still more to see.
the floats start moving passed us at a snail's pace. but that's the point, so everyone along the way gets to see and hear the music from the artists on the floats.
these singers and bands perform for the whole length of the carnival, with no breaks and not just for the ten hours tonight, but for the next seven nights.
the crowd goes wild for yvette sangalo, a Brazilian favourite. mine is parangole, who performs the song that Jailson taught me on my first day in Salvador. I like to think that I am a bit of an expert now, although truth be told I only learnt the proper words two weeks later from two nine year old girls.
as we wait for the next blocco to make its way up the street, we wander back in to explore. in the grounds of the camarote we find a stage with a band playing, so we are constantly entertained.
we wander backwards and forwards like this all night. buying our piriguetas on the street, four for five, rather than one for seven inside.
it's an amazing night. so far I have experienced every aspect of carnival; pipoca, free gay blocco, axe samba blocco, camarote... what will tomorrow night bring..?
before I head out I have one very important thing to do, customise my abada. apart from the fact that they only had extra large men's sizes left, I realised on friday night that customisation is key.
you'd be amazed at the effort women had gone to. walking around town on saturday I now notice all of the tailors offering this service. women have turned their t-shirts into dresses, halterneck tops, boob tubes and crop tops.
I'm pleased with my handiwork, although perhaps I should not quit the day job (oops too late...) to become a designer or pattern cutter.
we meet as any western group would... at mcdonalds and head out. it's still early so the parade route is quite quiet. we find our camarote and head in to explore.
we end up standing down on street level, still within the safety of our camarote. but the view and atmosphere here on ground level is much more exciting than the somewhat sterile environment upstairs.
the crowd is electric and I just can't quite take in the enormity of this carnival, however much I look around and absorb it there's still more to see.
the floats start moving passed us at a snail's pace. but that's the point, so everyone along the way gets to see and hear the music from the artists on the floats.
these singers and bands perform for the whole length of the carnival, with no breaks and not just for the ten hours tonight, but for the next seven nights.
the crowd goes wild for yvette sangalo, a Brazilian favourite. mine is parangole, who performs the song that Jailson taught me on my first day in Salvador. I like to think that I am a bit of an expert now, although truth be told I only learnt the proper words two weeks later from two nine year old girls.
as we wait for the next blocco to make its way up the street, we wander back in to explore. in the grounds of the camarote we find a stage with a band playing, so we are constantly entertained.
we wander backwards and forwards like this all night. buying our piriguetas on the street, four for five, rather than one for seven inside.
Friday, 1 April 2011
forgotten memory
when we arrived at the masked blocco the boys soon realised that it was a gay affair. their awareness much more accute than my own.
we were surrounded by a common sight at carnival, men in drag. but one in particular had me stop dead in the crowd.
as we were being pushed along in the blocco, I felt a slight chill and quiet in the air, as a beautiful man, seemingly on points floated past. it took me a moment to realise, but this vision of beauty was dressed and made up as the black swan. the resemblence was not perfect, but the persona and mood as we locked eyes was magical.
I was reminded of a time when my sister and I were at the Venice carnival some eleven years ago. when on a deserted street two men in cloaks floated past us with giant moon faces. again it was as if the whole of Venice stopped still and silent for them.
these moments always amaze me, that we can find such calm and serenity amongst such chaos and confusion.
[image found on zeenie2005.blogspot.com]
we were surrounded by a common sight at carnival, men in drag. but one in particular had me stop dead in the crowd.
as we were being pushed along in the blocco, I felt a slight chill and quiet in the air, as a beautiful man, seemingly on points floated past. it took me a moment to realise, but this vision of beauty was dressed and made up as the black swan. the resemblence was not perfect, but the persona and mood as we locked eyes was magical.
I was reminded of a time when my sister and I were at the Venice carnival some eleven years ago. when on a deserted street two men in cloaks floated past us with giant moon faces. again it was as if the whole of Venice stopped still and silent for them.
these moments always amaze me, that we can find such calm and serenity amongst such chaos and confusion.
[image found on zeenie2005.blogspot.com]
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