The Sambódromo Experience

A felicidade do pobre parece a grande ilusão do carnaval
A gente trabalha o ano inteiro por um momento de sonho pra fazer a fantasia

de rei ou de pirata ou jardineira
Pra tudo se acabar na quarta feira

The happiness of the poor is like the big illusion of Carnaval:

We work all year for one dreamy moment

to dress up like a king or a pirate or a gardener,

For everything to end on Wednesday.

(from the song "A Felicidade")

Samba schools. I didn’t actually go to a school this time. Everything gets kind of critical and secret as carnaval nears. The closest I got was when my friend Alessandro and I drove by Mangueira on a spontaneous tour of the city (which deserves a separate post), and I learned that the sprawling favela that my train to Parada de Lucas passes through is the home to this most-popular of samba schools...now I really want to get off there!

Guess what Mangueira's colors are?

As Carnaval approaches, the escolas de samba start moving from their home bases into the Sambódromo and the Cidade do Samba. The Sambódromo is a parade structure built by Oscar Niemeyer in the ‘80s. This year they expanded the seating so more people could attend, but the tickets are still too expensive for most Brazilians. I went to Beija Flor’s technical rehearsal at the Sambódromo the Sunday before carnaval, which was free, so the many people who can’t afford to see the actual parade (and who are perhaps from the neighborhood of the school) attend the rehearsal. There are no floats, fireworks, or elaborate costumes, but the school sings and the bateria plays, and the crowd enjoys it for everything it’s worth (and it’s worth a lot, even though that night is free). The entire school (5,000 or so people) has something like 80 minutes to pass through the 700 meter long passageway. In the meantime, they’re singing and dancing and acting out the elaborate story that the school has chosen as a theme for the year: a famous Brazilian painter, a comparison between England’s 2012 Olympic games and the ones in 2016 that will take place here, famous theatrical productions, Angola...

Free

Not free

Not only did I get to see Beija Flor, I also got to see the 105 year-old Oscar Niemeyer, who took a tour of his creation in a golf cart before the school passed by. What a man! He looked sort of like Humpty-Dumpty from where I stood, but at 105 you can look like whatever you want, especially if you’re proceeding a samba school! There was also this little old lady who was walking around down there before the school: I guess she’s a local, and she kind has the run of the town, so she often takes the liberty to do a little dance before the show. And everyone knows who she is. We’re talking about a city with a population of around 6.5 million...and a kind of small town feel when it comes to local characters!

Oscar Niemeyer and the Little Old Lady

The winners!

And, I wasn’t planing on it, but a friend convinced me to go to the big show on Carnaval Monday. We saw two of the schools I visited last time I was here: São Clemente and Salgueiro, plus Mangueira! I bought the ticket from a scalper on the street, thus contributing to the price inflation that keeps most Brazilians out of the celebration. And the party was incredible: We arrived at 8:00 pm, my friends left at around 12:30 because of headaches, and I...well, I stayed until 6:00 am. I was lucky to be sitting next to this girl who had a lot of energy, and she lent some of it to me. I learned all of the songs (it’s inevitable when you hear the same one over and over again for 80 minutes), I danced around. I was so tired by the time the fourth school came along, but they were so impressive that my energy came back (and they won!)...the last two are a blur. As I left the Sambódromo with the crowds, I saw people from the surrounding neighborhood literally 50 ft. from the building, watching the show on TV. Now, that is a great example of unfairness.

Free

Not Free

Finally, to finish it all off, as I left a party at Pedra do Sal the other night around 1:30, I was waiting along Rio Branco for my bus and suddenly...big, colorful floats were rolling my way. Floats from all of the losing schools, heading home I guess. Pushed by barefoot, shirtless men, with no sparkely muscular women or pounding bateria. Just the floats and the men, rolling down Rio Branco. They smiled and waved, I did too. It was one of my favorite parades ever!