Chapter 17
IN THIS CHAPTER
Discovering and celebrating Carnaval in Brazil
Dancing in the streets: Getting your samba groove on
Brazil is world-famous for its Carnaval (kah-nah-vah-ooh) (Carnival). The festivities take place in fevereiro (feh-veh-ray-roh) (February) or março (mah-soo) (March), when the weather is hot in Brazil, during the four days preceding Quarta-feira de Cinzas (kwah-tah-fay-rah jee seen-zuz) (Ash Wednesday). In Brazil, Carnaval is a national, four-day holiday.
Other places that are famous for putting on a grand carnaval include Venice, New Orleans, and Trinidad and Tobago. The tradition dates back to the Middle Ages, and each place celebrates the days of revelry a bit differently.
In this chapter, I describe Brazil’s three main Carnaval celebrations — parties in Rio, Salvador, and the Recife/Olinda area — and offer a bit of how-to on the famous Brazilian dance: samba (sahm-bah)!
The most famous of these carnavais fora de época (kah-nah-vah-eez foh-rah jee eh-poh-kah) (out-of-season carnivals) is Fortal (foh-tah-ooh), which takes place in the large northeastern city of Fortaleza in August. The name Fortal simply combines the words Fortaleza and Carnaval.
Preparations for Carnaval — especially in Rio de Janeiro (hee-ooh jee zhah-nay-roh), where a ton of money is poured into the party — continue year-round. But a surprising thing about Carnaval in Brazil is that Rio’s celebration isn’t necessarily the best. Rio certainly has the best desfile (des-fee-lee) (parade) over the four-day period, in terms of gargantuan floats and dancers in flashy outfits, but its carnaval de rua (kah-nah-vah-ooh jee hoo-ah) (street carnival) activity is not as famous as it is in other places.
Two less-publicized but equally fantastic Carnavais (kah-nah-vah-eez) (Carnavals) — each unique in its own way — are those of Salvador (sah-ooh-vah-doh) and the towns of Recife (heh-see-fee) and Olinda (oh-leen-dah). These last two towns are located adjacent to each other, so it’s easy to experience both.
Every Brazilian has a different opinion on which Carnaval is best. And there are even people who don’t like all the fuss of any of the celebrations; they prefer to use their two vacation days (Monday and Tuesday before Ash Wednesday) to head to a secluded praia (prah-ee-ah) (beach).
Here are some questions you can ask a Brazilian to help you decide which Carnaval is right for you:
The Carnaval in Rio is the one to attend if you want to see a huge espetáculo (eh-speh-tah-koo-loo) (spectacle). It’s basically a major competição (kohm-peh-chee-sah-ooh) (competition) of pageantry.
During the four days of Carnaval, each of the city’s escolas de samba (eh-skoh-luz jee sahm-bah) (samba groups; Literally: samba schools) has just one chance to move it, shake it, and show off its artistic talents and magnificently decorated floats. On Tuesday night (the eve of Ash Wednesday), os juízes (ooz zhoo-ee-zeez) (the judges) decide who performed best.
People from different escolas de samba make the fantasias (fahn-tah-zee-uz) (costumes) months ahead of time. The compositor (kom-poh-zee-toh) (composer) of the official song of a specific escola de samba starts humming ditties to themself for next year’s hit as soon as the previous year’s Carnaval ends.
Each escola has many carros alegóricos (kah-hohs ah-leh-goh-ree-kohs) (floats) decorated with the school’s theme, and these floats take months to make. They are indeed works of art. And topping the floats are the famous samba-dancing babes with spectacular bodies, little clothing, and high heels. These women often wear impressive, feathery headdresses. On the ground, in front of and behind the float, are hundreds more dançarinas (dahn-sah-ree-nuz) (dancers), all in costume. The parading of a single escola takes about an hour during the actual competition.
In terms of music, the most important part of any escola is the batucada (bah-too-kah-dah) (drumming). Up to 200 drummers are in each escola. The sound of the drums is deafening, but the energy is contagious.
The entire four-day event takes place in Rio’s sambódromo (sahm-boh-droh-moo) (sambodrome), an open-air venue with bleachers that looks like an oblong sports stadium. The space is longer than it is wide because a desfile goes through it.
Why is it called a sambodrome? Because people dance an extra-fast samba (sahm-bah) as they parade their way through. Samba is the most famous dance from Brazil. It’s a three-beat step repeated over and over again. It can be fast- or medium-speed; but during Carnaval, it’s very rápido (hah-pee-doh) (fast). Check out the section “Dancing the Samba!” for details.
Rio’s Carnaval can be caro (kah-roo) (expensive). Prices for a single night’s show range from about US$20 for a seat way back and up high in the bleachers, to up to US$1,000 for a box seat. You can get a good bleacher seat for around US$250.
Many bares (bah-reez) (bars) and botecos (boh-teh-koos) (informal restaurants) throughout the city have a TV on during Carnaval showing the main event in the sambódromo, so that’s an inexpensive option for watching it, too!
Salvador’s Carnaval is completely different from Rio’s. Bleachers are set up in Salvador, but they’re on the rua (hoo-ah) (street) and there’s no sambódromo. Instead, a several-miles-long parade route winds its way through parts of the city. The parade starts at Salvador’s most famous landmark, o farol (ooh fah-roh-ooh) (the lighthouse) — right on the beach. There’s also a downtown route which is the oldest and most traditional (but less popular).
In Salvador, the band is often famous nationwide. In Rio, the featured musicians aren’t famous pop stars, though the traditional samba music composers often are some of the most famous in Brazil. If you want to hear some of Brazil’s most famed and beloved stars and musicians playing live during Carnaval, Salvador is the place to go.
People who’ve paid to be part of a specific bloco dance on the ground and move forward slowly with the truck, in front of and behind it. About 40 different main blocos are involved in Salvador’s Carnaval, and it’s very common for tourists to pay money to join one of the blocos.
To separate the bloco from the crowd watching the parade, a group of people are paid to surround each bloco with a corda (koh-dah) (rope). They form a rectangle around each bloco, with the trio elétrico in the center. These paid sort-of security guards walk along slowly, while the people inside the corda jump and dance like crazy to the music. Though the music is fast-paced, the parade isn’t.
If you’re not in a bloco, you can either watch the parade from the sidelines or just roam around Salvador. Areas near the parade route are filled with people, generally laughing and just hanging out. Some bars and restaurants remain open, but others close for the festivities.
On the streets of Salvador, stands that sell all kinds of tropical cocktail drinks with festive names are set up. But these are generally the only vendors you’ll find along the parade route, because the parade is the main focus.
Most Brazilians and tourists who go to Salvador for Carnaval buy a T-shirt or tank top called an abadá (ah-bah-dah) for a particular bloco months in advance.
Abadás can be expensive; they usually cost more than US$60. The price goes up for each of the four days you participate in Carnaval. For each day you pay for, you get a different T-shirt or tank top with a new design so you can prove you paid to be in the bloco for that specific day. Generally, you have to pick up the abadás from each bloco’s headquarters. You may find street vendors with abadás to buy at the last minute, but beware, they could be stolen or fake.
Unlike in Rio, if you choose to buy an abadá and participate in Salvador’s Carnaval, no practicing is involved. You can just show up, pick up your shirt, and meet your bloco at its scheduled time to begin the parade route.
Guys usually wear an abadá, shorts, socks, and tennis shoes to attend a Carnaval bloco. Most women from Salvador take their abadás to a tailor months in advance. The tailors fashion the abadás into unique tops for each garota (gah-roh-tah) (girl) parading in Salvador’s Carnaval. Those people in the huge crowd on the sidelines wear whatever they feel like wearing. It’s advisable to wear light clothing, cover your feet (if you wear flip-flops, it will hurt if you get stepped on), and keep jewelry at home.
After you buy a top with the name of your bloco, you can travel along the parade route with that bloco, participating — not spectating! If you prefer not to dance along the parade route but still want a hard-partying atmosphere, you can try buying a ticket that gives access to one of many camarotes (kah-mah-roh-cheez) along the parade route, which are two-story open-air temporary structures with standing-room only. Any website that sells an abadá also sells camarote tickets.
Finally, if you don’t want to pay a centavo (sen-tah-voh) (Brazilian cent) to experience Carnaval in Salvador, you can just roam the streets and watch the parade from the sidelines for free. Just beware that the crowd is thick.
A couple of the popular bands and singers that perform every year at Carnaval in Salvador are Timbalada (cheem-bah-lah-dah) and Olodum (oh-loh-doong).
Then there’s a special treat: the world-famous Brazilian singers Gilberto Gil (zhee-ooh-beh-too zhee-ooh) and Caetano Veloso (kah-eh-tah-noo veh-loh-zoo) usually make an appearance every year at Salvador’s Carnaval. However, as of press time (2022), both of these great musicians were 79 years old, so they may not be performing in the years to come.
The music of Carnaval in Salvador is different from what you hear in Rio, where the fast, chorus-based samba rules the sound waves. In Salvador, music known as axé (ah-sheh), which has just one singer, is more common. Axé sounds more contemporary than samba. The most unusual groups you’ll see during Carnaval in Salvador in terms of Brazilian costume are afoxés (ah-foh-shez), Afro-Brazilian religious groups that parade during Carnaval. One afoxé (ah-foh-sheh) that dates back to 1949 is called os Filhos de Ghandi (ooz feel-yooz jee gahn-dee) (Sons of Ghandi). They wear white turbans.
There are various afoxés that participate in Salvador’s Carnaval, and all play music that use rhythms based in the Afro-Brazilian religion of candomblé (kahn-dohm-bleh).
Recife and Olinda are two beachside cities in the northeastern state of Pernambuco (peh-nahm-boo-koh). They’re right next to each other, with less than a mile separating them. The cities are close enough that you can spend time in both places in a single day.
Recife, the state capital, is a large city with a population of about 4 million. Olinda is one of Brazil’s most beautiful old colonial towns. It’s very small, with narrow, winding streets, pastel-colored houses, and breathtaking views of the city and the ocean. Olinda is also home to many artists. The name of the town comes from O, linda! (Oh, beautiful!) — a Portuguese sailor was apparently smitten with the location.
The Carnaval celebrations take place in the old section of Recife — Recife antigo (heh-see-fee ahn-chee-goo) (old Recife) — and throughout Olinda. Between the two, Recife is a little more tranquilo (trahn-kwee-loo) (low-key) than Olinda, where parties are more energetic and narrow streets make for a close-together crowd that’s difficult to walk through.
In both places, the carnaval de rua is the most colorful in Brazil. Most visitors don’t wear a fantasia (fahn-tah-zee-uh), but some do, and you certainly can. Just keep in mind that costumes are flashy, colorful clothing or generally festive outfits — not like Halloween costumes.
People just mill about on the streets, bebidas (beh-bee-duz) (drinks) in hand, and stop to watch impromptu blocos parade by. The “parade” in Recife is pretty disorganized, although there seems to be more timing involved there than in Olinda. Both places feature blocos of all sorts. In either place, a bloco can simply be a group of co-workers who pick a theme for themselves, dress accordingly, and beat some makeshift percussion instruments.
Little about the Carnaval in either city feels “official,” but the parading/roaming the streets lasts all day. You can buy food on the street or find a plaza where you can hang out in the open air and eat a more substantial meal while you hear drumbeats in the distance (or parading by you).
The most famous bonecos are the Homem da Meia-Noite (oh-mang dah may-ah-noh-ee-chee) (Midnight Man) in Olinda and the Galo da Madrugada (gah-loo dah mah-droo-gah-dah) (Sunrise Rooster) in Recife. Parading of the rooster kicks off the whole Carnaval in Recife on the first day, and the bonecos are paraded through the ruas, along with informal blocos.
The traditional Carnaval music in Recife/Olinda is o frevo (ooh freh-voo) and o maracatu (ooh mah-rah-kah-too). Frevo music traditionally features a brass band (and no singer) playing a fast beat, and the dancing that goes with it is indeed intriguing when you first see it. Usually a small child or a man in a colorful, clownish outfit dances with a guarda-chuva (gwah-dah-shoo-vah) (umbrella). The name frevo comes from the verb ferver (feh-veh) (to boil) — the dancing and footwork are so fast, the dancer seems to be boiling.
Maracatu has a fast, distinctive beat that really shows off Brazilians’ talent for drumming. The drummers wear huge, shaggy, sparkling headdresses. The tradition was brought to Brazil by African slaves, who used the music and dancing rituals for coronation ceremonies celebrating African royalty.
If you visit Brazil for Carnaval (kah-nah-vah-ooh) (Carnival), you can hear samba (sahm-bah) music and see people dancing samba regardless of where you go. So how is the famous dança (dahn-sah) (dance) performed?
There are two basic tipos (chee-pooz) (types) of samba. One is the step that the women sambistas (sahm-bee-stuz) (samba dancers) perform during Rio's Carnaval while wearing high heels on top of a float; the other is what everyone else does. High heels make the dance much more difícil (jee-fee-see-ooh) (difficult). I suggest that you leave those moves to the talented women who remain a tantalizing mistério (mee-steh-ree-ooh) (mystery) to dazzled spectators.
It took me a good three years to aprender (ah-pren-deh) (learn) to dance samba, and I still don’t do it very well. The step is simple, but I’m convinced that you need to have Brazilian sangue (sahn-gee) (blood) in your veins to do it muito bem (moh-ee-toh bang) (very well). Nonetheless, for my fellow non-Brazilians, here’s what to do:
Loosen your joelhos (zhoh-el-yooz) (knees); relaxe (heh-lah-shee) (relax) and bend them a little bit.
Samba isn’t danced with the corpo (koh-poo) (body) straight up but rather like you’re going to sit down.
Now, put your feet together. Shift your weight onto your pé direito (peh jee-ray-too) (right foot), and then shift the weight to your pé esquerdo (peh eh-skeh-doo) (left foot).
As you do this, fling your pé direito to the front, with your heel sliding on the ground, as if your heel is scuffing the floor; then, fling your heel up, just slightly, off the floor.
As you do the scuff, point the toes of your right foot slightly to the right, as if you’re just starting to make an arc with the right foot. Your body faces forward the whole time, and your upper body moves as little as possible. Arms should be bent at the elbows, as if to balance yourself.
Now, bring that pé direito back to where it was and step on it.
You’re just moving in place — shifting your weight back to your right foot.
Next, do the same thing, starting with the pé esquerdo!
It’s a three-beat move, and the dance is subtle, not showy.
If you feel awkward trying the samba, don’t worry. I’ll tell you a huge segredo (seh-greh-doo) (secret): Many Brazilians can’t samba. So either try it again or just sit down, have a drink, and enjoy yourself. That’s all that matters, anyway!