Carnivale !

Carnivale !

This may yet be my most uninspired post, and for that I apologize in advance.  Carnivale is crazy.  But the world’s biggest party is not all that it is cracked up to be.  It begins with pre-parties throughout the week and starts in earnest with block parties on Friday.  These are neighborhood centered advertised gatherings.  Revelers come from all over the city for these gigs.  Rio de Janeiro has a simple and very efficient linear subway system, that lends itself to large numbers of people suddenly being able to concentrate themselves in a given spot.  When word gets out a block party is actually taking place, the incoming streams of humanity racing to the scene from both directions is something to be awed by.  Security is very, very heavy.  I have yet to see a fight or disturbance in the four days I’ve been here.

Walked out for coffee Friday morning.  There was a block party outside the apartment (being shared by four of us who met at Iguazu Falls) that stretched for six blocks for six blocks before there was any maneuvering room simply to walk.  You could find alcohol at 9 AM everywhere, with the crowd getting an early start on beer consumption especially.  I think the vendors —and there are clearly no licensing requirements, just whoever wants to throw up a dolly or card table with a stack of beer coolers on it – are the ones who are really making out in this whole spectacle.   Drinking is widespread and open to any age.  But coffee?   No.  That was one of dozens of block parties taking place in prominent points throughout the city – usually near Metro stops. Many of those present had simply not gone home the night before.  They were soaked, covered on the lower half with street filth, and too drunk to notice. Thursday night, the spontaneous block party was just a bunch of drunken 14 to 20 year-olds, a mob really, following a music truck.  Loses its appeal very quickly as you walk around pressed in from all sides like a sardine in a tin-crushed by-a-brick.  I left early and walked along Ipanema and Copacobana Beaches.  Very tranquil, in contrast to the pulse and beat and yet alluring mindless singularity of the mob as it wound its way around major intersections (blocking all traffic) in no particular set design.  Nobody in vehicles at a standstill seemed to mind.  Sudden changes in traffic congestion are part of the expectations for Carnivale.  There was no horn honking or signs of impatience to move on.

Best part of Carnivale to date is the costumes ... lots of guys in drag (so funny, their imaginative ideas for dress) and every type of hat and mask and cape.  Many seem to be a cross between French poodles and bondage queens.  Those not in drag are very imaginative also.  The straight performers seem to favor more traditional Halloween type costumes or something suggestive of Mayan royalty crossed with a Spanish Conquistadore.   Sexual innuendo is widespread and particularly present on the subways, as the various crowds surge their way from one neighborhood block party to the next.  Simulated sex acts beween scantily clad men are frequent and quickly lose their shock value.  I am wary of being made sport of by gay men on the subway, who sneak up behind and amuse the crowd at your expense with exaggerated thrusting and such while you hold onto an overhead rail.  Between that, and the necessity to avoid pickpockets, I sadly don’t let anybody attempting to practice their Carnivale welcomes on me to get very close.

It has been raining here for five days.  For the most part that doesn’t stop anything.  It is a warm rain, much enjoyed by the street throngs who stretch for dozens of blocks.  Ironically, while Brazilians (and most of South America) put their used toilet paper in small baskets adjacent to the toilet because their waste systems can’t handle secondary paper treatment very well, the rain deteriorates the hundreds of tons of street litter and turns it into a fine paste or slurry.  This slop then lays in the streets and eventually makes its way to the storm drains.  Will be interesting to see how the storm drain/sewage system handles that.   In the meantime, sightseeing remains difficult due to the weather and limited visibility.

Finally, on Sunday night there is the Samba (Brazilian Dance) Schools parade, an eight hour extravaganza beginning at 10 PM and continuing until 6 in the morning !  The presentation makes the Rose Bowl Parade in Pasadena look like a kiddie fair.  This is what Carnivale is really all about.  The floats are huge, gilded, frivolous, and colorful in the extreme.  Many have more gold and silver than a Spanish galleon.  Hundreds of attendant participants for each float are dressed in full kit, as if they are the Rose Bowl Queen on steroids herselve. Hoop skirts ten to 12 feet in diameter are the norm.  Each may reach an equal height vertically once massive feathered headdresses are taken into account.  Personally I think there are midgets underneath those skirts, helping to support the armature and spin the dancers.  Otherwise it would be too much to ask maneuverability wise of each participant, beyond simply standing still and being a colorful presence.  Each has enough plumage to deplete a peacock farm.  Everywhere, both men and women dance the sexy Brazilian samba without letup.  And all sing constantly.   Have no idea how they carry this off for eight hours.  It seems as if the Brazilians are tireless.  I heard about a fire recently which destroyed the costumes and floats for a number of the Samba Schools which participate in this parade climax to Carnivale.  Three of the seven Samba schools had their costumes and floats destroyed, so it was said there will be a more limited parade offering this year.  But no, they went into overdrive and replaced most of the costumes and floats, and fill in The Big Show to normal standards.  Tickets were originally about $130 each, but have been elevated due to scalper activity.  Most people can’t afford to attend.  Luckily, the Parade is shown on television.

I am at a loss to communicate well here.  With hotel folk, taxi drivers, subway conductors, and restauranteurs.  Having just gotten use to Spanish again, and somewhat proficient at its use finally, I find the Brazilians speak Portugese.  And no, it is not interchangeable with Spanish.  They are quite different.  In addition, the Brazilians do not like being addressed in Spanish, though they are fairly tolerant of attempts to communicate with them using that tongue.  In such cases, one becomes reliant on photos accompanying a menu (or English language versions), and just enough crossover words between the two languages to make your wishes known.  Somewhere my travel precautions have broken down, also.  As of Saturday night, I begin a lengthy bout (my fourth in South America) with Diarrhea, and a sour stomach from the one meal a day I am eating requires some Roman Banquet style self-induced purging.  I switch away from the apartment to a hotel, primarily so I can have my own bathroom.

There is a Gay Ball Tuesday night, with tickets in great demand.  The photo ops alone are probably worth the price of admission.  They are very expensive as well.  And some more block parties.  I will not stick around for this.  The crowds and elevated prices and mindless throngs have worn out their novelty with me.  At this point, my objectives are to encounter enough sunshine to see SugarLoaf Mountain at both levels, and Christ The Redeemer statue at close range.  Also to visit the major beaches during daylight.  Then depart town.  Have no idea at this point, what my next destination will be.