Ich Bin Ein Salvadorer

On Thursday, instead of our regular afternoon culture lecture, we went to Pelourinho for a special drumming presentation. They love African drumming in Bahia, if you haven’t noticed a theme in my posts. The guy’s talk was in Portuguese, so most of it was over my head but the music was very cool but we saw something even better when we came out of the studio. As we were sitting around eating ice cream on the cobblestone corner, a crowd started to gather around a large mural set up in the main square. When we went to check it out, it was a giant collage of different art commemorating the fall of the Berlin Wall.

As the crowd grew, the artist began to pose like he was going to tear it down. After striking a pose for all the cameras, he took back his hammer and drove it right through the center of his art. I didn’t think he was really going to do it; it was a very cool mural. Other people standing by began to vehemently attack the large wall mural too. It was far from the artsy affair I expected. No one was taking precaution with the wall, it was a fit of all out demolition. I was hoping David Hasselhoff would make an appearance but nothing every transpired in the way of washed up eighties stars. Then, as people where ruthlessly kicking in his work, the artist handed over hammers to my friend Amanda and I and let us join in the destruction. It was really invigorating destroying a little piece of the memory communism (those bastards). More and more members of the crowd began to tear at the art while the surrounding crowd cheered everyone on. I really wish we were in the States because chanting “Brasil” doesn’t have the same ring as “U-S-A!”. When the bare structure was exposed, everyone began to rock it until everything collapsed. Once debris was all that remained, everyone let out an even louder cheer and began to dance onto of the ruins. Both Amanda and I managed to salvage some torn pieces of art from the debris that turned out pretty cool. More importantly, I can sleep easy knowing not even the Brazilian arts scene is being tempting by the evil perches of communism. USA! USA! Ahhh that’s better.

The Conga Spot!

Wow. I have just gotten back from one of the coolest concerts of my life. It was just nuts. I was very skeptical going in because I wasn’t excited to see some show I wouldn’t understand, but it was only five reais, so my cheap tendencies allowed me check it out. The final act was supposed to be this congo band with special guest Carlinhos Brown, who is a pretty big, influential songwriter and musician here (from what people tell me at least, I have no idea), so five reais was supposed to be an amzing deal. I still wasn’t impressed. We took a bus to the lower city which can be a picture perfect model for urban decay. The venue looked like all the other dilapidated buildings around it, but when we went inside it opened into a huge courtyard that was wildly painted all around. It was fixed up really nice on the inside with the different colors splattered all over the walls contrasted against the exposed brick and dirty gray of the building. It was a very cool looking place. Then the first band came on with all 20 of its members marching out on stage with their instruments wearing bright white tuxedos. They had everything from bongos to tubas going and put on some great samba(from what people tell me at least, once again nothing). The were even doing a Temptations like shuffle while they were playing. It was pretty impressive for having so many members. I was starting to come around. Then the next act was a three person band playing terrible love songs. They already seemed weak coming out with only three crappy instruments, no tuxedos and no dances resembling Motown acts from the 1960’s. Once they started to play, the crappiness was confirmed. We were speculating that they were probably given the gig to make the final band seem super good, but once the Conga band came on, I only needed 30 seconds to know they would have killed it anyways.

Before they conga drummers came out, the stage was set up with two full drum sets, a bass and a straight up log that was hollowed out and fashioned into a drum for back up. That ensemble started jamming and then about 8 dudes with huge bongos ran out dancing and just started going off. After the awful, slow love songs, the up tempo African style music had everybody going. They brought so much energy the whole venue just starting going nuts. They were wailing like I’ve never seen before all while dancing and doing flips; it was unreal. All the while, clouds had gathered and a drizzle had begun. I didn’t think their show could get anymore intense, but then Carlinhos Brown came on and it went to the next level. He just walked out with four other musicians in white body paint and everyone went crazy. He was wearing a studded jean hat, what seemed like a white army jacket and jeans that had crochet flowers running along the seems. I knew that if a dude can wear this and have everyone show him respect when he came on, he must be the real deal. And then I found out why he can wear those outfits. Once Carlinhos joined the show, it turned into one of the wildest things I have ever been a part of. The immediately started this up tempo jam that everyone knew (even me believe it or not) and it seemed like on cue that the rain began to pour. The rain got harder and harder but they only continued to bring it. As the rain pounded on, there playing and dancing got more intense and the crowd was going off. When the stage was flooding, Carlinhos got down on one knee and started to splash the puddles up to the rhythms with his hands like he was a rain god. All the while the drumming and dancing where getting more and more intense. I know I keep saying this, but it just got more and more crazy. We got pretty close to the stage and when I turned around I was shocked to see EVERY person dancing and getting down while it was dumping rain. The entire venue as pretty big and I didn’t see one person just not dancing and jumping all over the place. I have never been a part of something with so much energy before. At the height of the show, Carlinhos ran from one side of the stage to the other and the crowd would stampede and follow in a giant wave. When he left the stage, the rain almost instantly cleared up. You may be reading this thinking it really doesn’t seem that cool but I would like to emphasize that this was probably one of the coolest things I have ever done. Its hard to put in words, but the energy of the whole place just seemed unreal. The band was so talented and able to make these awesome jams while working and dancing together. They just seemed like they were having the best time. I went on a whim and know I can’t imagine my trip without this big jam in it.

A Samba Funeral

On Tuesday morning, as I approached the door to my Portuguese class, there was a sign posted up to meet in another room. Once the other people from the program and I were all gathered together, our director told us that the famous Bahian musician affectionately known as Neguinho do Samba had passed away. Neguinho was an instrumental in developing the traditional African drumming band Olodum that brought international acclaim to Brazil in the 1990’s for their work with Michael Jackson and Paul Simon, among other famous people. Neguinho used the profits he made to create a number of music schools and community centers throughout Salvador to promote Afro-Brazilian traditions and music while providing a place for the youth of the city, especially the poor and homeless, to gather. Sorry, I didn’t mean for this to turn into a eulogy but I just wanted to give a quick grasp on why he was so endeared to the people of Bahia. We were excused from class to attend his funeral precession throughout the cultural district of the city. It was pretty amazing to experience a large funeral here, especially for someone so beloved. We joined it when there was a few band members playing while a small group of people followed. Though the group wasn’t initially to big, you could still feel the emotion, especially because Neguinho was in seemingly perfect health and still relatively young in his early fifties. No one had expected him to go without warning. As they moved throughout the narrow, cobblestone streets more band members began to play and the group grew larger and larger. People threw flowers from their balconies onto the marching precession, as the sound of the bands grew more intense. Many of the musicians were shedding tears as they passionately played out beutiful rhythms. It was interesting because there was never any boundary between the musicians and the crowd; everyone was just walking and playing together in a crowd that began to grow even larger.

As the crowd spilled into the main plaza, the coffin came into sight and became engulfed by the now huge crowd carrying it on their shoulders. A hysteric man came and snatched a Brazilian flag from the hands of a woman next to me and spread it across the top of the coffin while trying to control his emotion. It concluded where we were as the bands gave a final send off, in one massive drumming unison. One of Neguinho’s close friends spoke words to the mass of people that were now gathered in the plaza around his coffin, all holding their hands up to put a blessing on him. As we were leaving, the coffin was put on top of a fire truck that took it through the entire city for one last send off before reaching the cemetery. It is a shame he died, but amazing to be part of such a grand tribute. Almost all of the famous Bahian drumming bands were just playing throughout the streets in full force, a spectacle that only normally happens at Carnival. It was surreal to witness all at once beside so much grief and passion from the crowd for a man so beloved. When I told my maes where I had gone, they got into an argument because Liane didn’t immediately recognize who he was. “What do you mean you don’t know Neguinho!? HE DANCED WITH MICHAEL JACKSON!” Even for two middle aged ladies with no ties to music, his had death struck a chord; he was a real source of pride for the city and people of Salvador.

Where I Wasn't this Weekend. Swear.

While my last posts have been about taking trips away, I have been having some fun in the city too. Every Saturday the Museu de Arte Moderno (MAM) has a jazz/ jam band play outside for only $2 reais, cleverly titled the “JAM ao MAM”. Modern art doesn’t cease to piss me off below the equator but the show is always pretty sweet. The museum itself is an old government or shipping building right on the water that is built on the bottom of a cliff. There is a courtyard outside against the water where the band sets up and its really cool to just go and hang out listening to the music and ocean while you’re easing into the night. There are stands set up conveniently selling drinks, crepes and other good stuff too. The next day, we got up (relatively) early and went to a surf contest at a beach about 30 minutes away. It was pretty disappointing due in part to the crappy weather so when the rain set in, we got a bus back to Campo Grande (my neighborhood). At the bus stop I noticed an abnormal amount of flamboyant transvestites and as the bus screeched to a stop, the annual Gay Pride Parade was in full swing in the park across from my apartment building. It was pretty startling to see the small jogger’s park turned into an all out party. The park and surrounding streets were all flooded with people. There was a big stage with cross dressers getting down to “My Love Don’t Cost a Thing” and trucks with bands along the street blaring music. Whenever there is a public festival here, they have trucks drive through the streets with either music blasting or live bands playing on top. Anyways throughout the whole area people were just going crazy, dancing, wearing wild outfits. It was so hot (outside) and over the top, it was definitely a wild Sunday. At least, that’s what I heard, I was at home thinking about women.

Heaven On Earth With An Onion Slice

I have spent yet another weekend on the road. This time, I went with some friends to island of Morro do Sao Paulo. Morro, for short, is a Caribbean -esque tropical island off the coast of Brazil with lush green trees covering the hills and long white sand beaches. We had to hop a couple of buses and ferries for a few hours to get their but it was all worth it. We stayed in a cheap but nice hostel and ate some meals that were a definite highlight of the trip. Some friends got there the day before, and some guy just asked them if they were looking for a cheap place to eat and they followed him because a majority of the restaurants there are way overpriced from all of the tourist attention. This guy led them, who later led me, down an rather shady seeming alley(on the right) into what turned out to be his house. Instead of a living room, he just had tables set up and served people plates of food for only $5 reais! Most importantly, the food was SO good. I thought I would be burnt out on rice, beans, and chicken but this was by far the best I’ve had since I’ve been here (granted I’ve only really had my host moms and my neighbors, but still, it was good). It was a huge plate too, I was so happy to be full of good food for so cheap in such a nice beach town. It can’t get much better.

As for non-food descriptions, there is only one little town on the island around the ferry dock where the hostels and restaurants are. There are no cars or paved roads. Morro is a famous get away for many Brazilians, other South Americans and Europeans too but it was off season so it wasn’t too crowded. Besides, all you had to do was go down the coast a little and you would become secluded without too far of a walk. While I was there, my friends and I just posted around the beach and did some exploring around the island too. One of the coolest parts was hiking to a beach composed entirely of mud. It was crazy at first because when you get there, you just see cliffs that look like solid rock, but when you stick your hand on them they easily disintegrate into mud. Within minutes we were busting out face paintings which progressed to full body paint followed by the inventible mud hair gel. It was really fun messing around and trying to run up the mud cliffs before the bottom would leave you sliding down. We also found giant wooden sticks that led to pole vault competitions, Indian battles and well any fight in general you could imagine with mud, big poles, and a beach (feel free to ignore how homoerotic this trip sounds in writing). The mud washed off really easy in the ocean, and (surprisingly) out of my hair, and left our skin and hair so soft. What you know about exfoliating in the tropics son!?? Nothing, get off me.

After hanging around the beach more, we climbed up to the top of one of the highest hills on the island and I saw one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen (on the right). The sun seemed to beam across the whole ocean. Once the sun was down, we went to a rave in this outdoor club stuck up in the jungle. After we got out, my friend and I decided to stay up a little while longer for sunrise. We hiked down to the beach and by the time our pastels were ready the sun was starting to brim through palms on the ocean. Pastels, by the way, are a delicious Brazilian type of hot pocket with an awesome crust and whatever filling you want. I went with cheese, tomatoes, and oregano (at least I think thats what it was) for the sunrise; it was a powerful combination. Pastels in hand, we climbed out to the rocks along a small island of palms and watched a sunrise that matched the overwhelming sunset (on the left). It was really magnificent, for lack of a less pompous sounding word. After that, we crashed for a few hours then got up in time to catch some breakfast and get an early boat out because we had a Portuguese test the next day and the ferries are few and far in between on Sundays. The results of the test don't call for an as cheery blog post, but I still wouldn’t take back the trip though…it was a wild adventura (that’s this word Brazilians use for an exciting, bold or very unusual experience…its hard to capture in English).