Results tagged “VoaDois” from Ben Burford: Ben's Brazil Bacation

First day in Salvador

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I am pleased to report that Carol has sent me a huge amount of information about Salvador and our trip there. It's amazing to read her chronology and catch the stuff I had already missed. She is an organized machine of efficiency, and we will all appreciate her efforts.

pinha1.jpgOur first breakfast (and every breakfast, for that matter) was an incredible sight: fresh fruit of all kinds: pineapple, guava, passion fruit, pinha (custard apple), etc. along with rolled ham and cheese, bread, the best coffee in the world, fresh orange, and/or guava, passion fruit juice, and these little cheese roll things that come in the freezer. They're little round rolls with cheese (not processed, not American, not cheddar) in the middle, and they were a staple in Brazil. You could even find them in snack counters at the various attractions. Pettus got hooked on them, and we had to fight her for them every time they were served. They were fantastic, except for the times when Jean or I felt a little queasy for one reason or another. At those times, the thought of one of those cheese biscuits was pretty revolting. (I kind of analogized it to when Jean got drunk at one of the Legion Field Alabama games when we were in college, and threw up the Hardee's that we had eaten on the bus on the way to the game. Ha ha! Drinking bourbon and coke with flecks of shaker and Birmingham steel mill fallout was fun--and productive. She couldn't eat Hardee's for years after that, and still winces at the thought.)

The Kennemers were coming in that morning, so Patricia and I went to the airport to get them. Same Hollywood feeling, with palpable excitement in the air. These folks were pumped for Carnaval.

Salvador-(1-of-323).jpgI had taken my camera, and pulled it out for the first of over 1300 pictures: Robo in the backseat, going through the canopy of bamboo leaving the airport. Patricia was driving, and explained that one of Carol's friends always said it was like going through a time tunnel, leaving the modern airport and going into Salvador, the heart and soul of Bahia.

On the way home, it seems that every billboard was an advertisement for one of the acts appearing at Carnaval. VoaDois was everywhere. They're a boy/girl duo that Carol said was new. "Prazer, Katê!" or "Prazer, Fred" were the headlines accompanied by a giant picture of either one of their photogenic selves. Katê looked like she was wearing Invisalign braces in the picture, but it made her look even cuter. Jean said that Fred reminded her of Donny Osmond.
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VoaDois - Katê and Fred


When we got back home, Jean was getting a pedicure from Carol's pedicurist, Amparo, so we all trooped upstairs to Carol & Nelson's bedroom to harass her and act grownup.

Amparo has been giving Carol manicures and pedicures for years. She not only comes to the house, but charges what to us would be a ridiculous bargain. But she makes a nice living doing it, and seems happy with her life.

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Amparo's attitude is indicative of the Bahian people. They are so much happier with whatever their lot in life happens to be than Americans could ever be. They are said to be lazy, but that is a total crock. They are very industrious, but they accomplish this without taking life seriously enough to get anybody bummed out. Personally, I think part of it has to do with the music they listen to.

We admired the view from the the bedroom windows and balcony, oohed and aahed over the ventilating windows that were between the bedroom and the hallway, and raved about the upstairs "cold tub" and the office down the hall replete with two computers, internet access, air conditioning, and a piece of art I had done!


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Carol and Nelson's bedroom view

After Jean's manicure and pedicure (for about 10 dollars American), Carol swapped us American money for Reais (hay-eyes). She explained that there was a tourist exchange rate, a black market exchange rate, and a bank exchange rate. The black market rate is the highest, with the tourist rate being lowest, I think.
She gave us between the black market rate and the bank rate. It ended up being about 1.9 Reais to 1 dollar--almost two to one!  She then told us how a couple of years earlier, it was almost 4 to one! Our sad, sad little dollar couldn't push anybody around much anymore, but the exchange rate was still very favorable to us.

 



First night at Carnaval, Salvador--part 2

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Carnivalfirstnight.jpg
One of the world-famous
Brazilian butts.


Yeah, they were there. But not in the abundance that I first expected. I really kind of halfway thought everybody was gonna be naked.

Carol took this shot, because, remember, I didn't have my camera this first night due to my chickenshittedness. I could have really done some damage with my camera on this particular model. Alas. Lesson learned. Duffel position #1 will take you anywhere.

The shots you see related to this first night are all lies, you know, but play along, because similarities between the two nights are identical. (huh?)

When we first got there, we headed up to the third floor to put our stuff in the condo. There were two elevators in the lobby to service the whole building, and they were constantly in use. They were kind of old fashioned in a cool retro way, because you had to open a regular door to get in, and they just reeked of an existence that OSHA would frown upon. It was scheduled for renovation, because there was a sign that said something in Portuguese like Pardon our Progress. Uh, Not Now. Soon. Each elevator had a maximum capacity of 6 people. A sign was posted saying such. And people actually OBEYED the sign! I couldn't BELIEVE it! In America, each elevator would have been packed with enough drunk people for a long enough time to assure that each cable would snap and plunge the revelers to their doom. Lawsuits would ensue, blahblahblah.

When I was little I used to think that if you ever were in an elevator that was free-falling due to a snapped cable, if you would just jump up and down, there would be a fifty-fifty chance that you would be in the air when it hit, and after it did, you would return to the ground just as if you had been jump-roping. Har! I'm glad I never mentioned it to Robo. "Mr. Scientist" would have pelted me with words like "inertia" and "gravity" and "dipshit."

The Cerqueira's unit at Bahia Flats was cute as hell.
It had a little bitty kitchenette-ette, a living room/dining room that consisted of a couch and a little round table. One step up was a king size bed with a big closet. There was an open bookshelf that divided the two rooms. The bathroom was big with new granite appointments (duh), and a great shower. It was amazing, and so freeking cozy, it reminded me of when we were kids and would build "forts" out of blankets and cushions and hole up in there.

The balconette didn't overlook the ocean. It overlooked the street one block back, which was thick with partiers, food and liquor stands, blasting music from distorted speakers, and people weaving through the throng with coolers on their shoulders, selling a beer every so often. You could have spent your whole time watching just that and have a good time.

The best feature of the place was the air conditioning. Oh yeah. It worked. And it was on.

We liquored up and headed downstairs, saying boa-noite to everybody we saw, Jean usually forgetting and saying obrigado instead. Which was doubly funny, because she was using the masculine form of obrigado, which would technically indicate to the listener that she was a man. Ha ha! Oh "Mr. Portuguese" was so cool with his "suado" and "beleza". She could never keep up with ME!

Once on the first floor, the revelry hit you in the face like a blast of napalm. The terrace area of Bahia Flats was comfortably packed with genial folks eating, drinking, dancing, and knowing every word to every song that was being sung from the trios elétricos.

firstnightgirls.jpgUh-oh. Something else to fret about. Not only was the music incredible, and exactly what I was used to and expecting, but I wanted to know every song, too. The Brazilians totally embrace their stars, and rightly so, because they are an amazing bunch of entertainers. Ain't a lip-syncher in the bunch. And it's a grueling physical workout to perform live for that long without a break, in 95 degree weather. That probably helps explain why most of the women sing in rich, sexy, contralto voices. They may look like hummingbirds, but they sing like big fat robins.

BAHIAflatsecurity.jpgIt began to dawn on me pretty early that the people were there to have fun, but not in a crazy, excess, MTV-style way. I didn't see anybody dog drunk at all! It may be that it was so hot that the liquor disappeared through their pores. But everybody was happy, not obnoxious. In the parades, there were a few extremists, but not many. And fights were nearly nonexistent. There were a couple, over the span of both nights, but the military police stepped in quickly and nipped it in the bud.

On our terrace, we were watched over by a couple of Bahia Flats security guys. They were incredible. Not only did they wear suits, they didn't sweat, they thumb-upped you every time they saw you, and they kept everything on the up and up. There were a couple of them in the garage keeping it real down there. Every time we saw them, they smiled and gave us the secret sign. It was so nice to see, after some of the Barney Fife style security people in America that think they have more power than they actually do.

Oh didn't we have the fun? Even the stupid Bacardi Gold wasn't too bad, and the knot seemed to be mildly diverted with something else, so I got a little buzz and reveled in the music. I know when we got there late, there were some guys going down the street. Carol had casually mentioned that we were gonna see blahblahblah who was a big star in Brazil, and she was looking forward to blahblahblah coming by. I nodded, figuring it would be good, whatever it was. We went back to wiggling around to what turns out to be Alexandre Peixe followed by Guig Ghetto.


margareth.jpgThey were fun to listen to, and were rhythmic as all get out, but I didn't snap to attention until Margareth Menezes came by with her Os Mascarados show. THIS was who Carol was waiting to see.  All of the blocos and pipocas had a name, and I figure that Os Mascarados must mean something like "the masqueraders".

Wow! When Margareth appeared, I almost fell out. She had powerful Brazilian legs, and did that constant fast samba step that was not only sexy, but invigorating. She had a short dress on that looked like chocolate mousse around her waist. Her hair was a sienna mass of curls lit by the evening lights. In constant motion, she was a sight to behold. In her incredible contralto, she samba'ed and exhorted the crowd to action. On this first night, we didn't know what all the entertainers were hollering, but we learned the next night.

Margareth's music was part axé, part samba, part African. Her CD is called Afropopbrasileiro, and she means it. I didn't know it at the time, but one of the songs that had transported me to nirvana that night was one of her big hits, "Dandalunda." Yippee!

Here's a picture of Margareth that Pettus took with her small Canon.

margareth-carnaval.jpgI'll talk about the blocos and trios elétricos more in the second Carnaval installment, but I'll show you an example of the vendors that roved through the blocos.

firstnightvendor.jpgGuess who was next! VoaDois! Yeah! I couldn't wait to see Katê and Fred! And hell yes they looked just like their pictures, and hell yes they were energetic as hell, and hell yes, at times I couldn't tell when Katê was singing and when Fred was. They were great, though, and the sound was incredible. As a matter of fact, EVERYBODY'S sound was unbelievable. It was like the biggest, friendliest stereo of your fantasies traveling at a snail's pace right in front of you, filling you with vibes that you could only get in that manner.

We were partying our asses off by this time. I was so incredibly suado and carefree! And here's the kicker: there was no vomit ANYWHERE! Nobody was throwing up! You'd expect to see people by the tens marching down the street, spewing as they went. But NO. These people had fantastic governors on their bodies, I guess. They could party to the very maximum without ever really going over the edge. I could be totally wrong about this, but I don't think so.

Meanwhile, VoaDois was kicking ass on top of a massive, corporate-sponsored machine that was propelling this party into the stratosphere.

I didn't see Katê's braces. I looked.

It was eventually time to go home, being about 1:30 or so. They do everything in military time there, so combined with the fact that I had no idea what time zone we were in, and never wear a watch, I'm only guessing. I just know it was late, and we still had to penetrate the human mass for a good twenty blocks before breaking free.

And we did! Carol's expert piloting of the SUV, a fresh Bacardi Gold and soda, witticisms aplenty from Robo, Pettus, Jean, Daniel and Patricia, and we were home to a thumbs up and a soon-to-be-air-conditioned bedroom.

Nelson was up when we came in. We fixed another drink and Robo and I went into his library to see what was an until-then unseen part of the house. WOW! He had everything. In all languages! Robo and I marveled at every part of it. First of all, it was catalogued and shelved appropriately. I saw a bunch of books that I have actually read, many in two other languages. I was also able to bullshit my way through a few titles that I had heard of but not read. An advantage of hanging around a lot of English majors. I didn't see any Hardy Boys. And he calls himself a "scholar"!

Off to bed in a cooling environment. Then there's Jean setting that gol-durned Blackberry for God-knows-what hour. I hate that thing.


Second night of Carnaval in Salvador--part 5

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Cut loose in the melee!

Our time was fast approaching to be out there in the fray with thousands of happy, sweaty people. Though you could never tell they were sweating unless you looked at their glistening faces, because that quick-dry fabric is amazing.

Toward the end of Ivete's reign in front of Bahia Flats, I know I heard her do "Não Quero Dinheiro, Só Quero Amar," (I think it roughly translates to "I don't want money, I just want love"), either one of her greatest hits, or a massive Carnaval favorite, because she's not the only one who did it. Anyway, it was one of the first Carnaval anthems that I immediately recognized from the night before. Just one of many to come.

After Ivete Sangalo disappeared down the street, having dazzled the crowd with her quivering flesh and trebuchet-style delivery, everybody was worn out. Little wonder she was voted best female vocalist for 2008 Carnaval.

I thought it was time to go up and take my camera. Believe it or not, it gets heavy and muscle-taxing when you clutch a big camera to your chest (Chest position 1) with one arm for a length of time.

So while we're going upstairs to the condo, won't you join us? Only please step into a time capsule and go back a couple of hours, because you'll see Patricia getting nursed for a blister by Jean Burford, RNaL. (Registered Nurse at Large). And we all know that Patricia is far, far, away down the parade route by now, not up here.

NurseJean.jpgLook at Robo laughing at the whole matter. Jean, of course, had her ubiquitious Ziploc® bag full of various medicines, remedies, poultices, bandages, splints, and the like for any occasion. I'm sure since we were going to Carnaval, she probably pared the inventory of her emergency kit down to 50 items or so. If we were at the beach, however, there would be three gigantic attic-storage-size Ziplocs containing approximately 300 items of modern healing, repair, and a potpourri of other things you wouldn't expect. Like blunt-edged kindergarten scissors. They'll let those on a plane. Jean found that out. I think she used to have a couple of fire extinguishers in her big emergency pack, but they went off and ruined all the over-the-counter antibiotics from Mexico.

Let's head back down for VoaDois, who is doing TWO Carnaval routes, with two different bloco names: The one from the previous night was Universitario. Tonight's bloco was called Pra Ficar/Fissura. Now, does this mean that two groups both hired VoaDois to do their parade? And I see also that Universitario had a parade both nights. The second night they had Motumbá, another heavy-hitter, on the trio. What gives? Someone explain! Anyone?      Anyone?      Bueller?

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Regarding this question, a Carnival bastion--Ricardo Chaves--gave an interview lamenting this changing, transitory, cash-n-carry nature that has evolved. It used to be that a bloco had one and only one band, and a loyal following. The bloco would hold events throughout the year. Groups of friends would go out with the same bloco year after year. Relationships blossomed over 5 days of Carnival. Now there is a Central do Carnaval http://home.centraldocarnaval.com.br/index.asp where you can do your own mix and match. Buy as much or little as you want. No commitments.
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At any rate, their [VoaDois] popularity should explain why they were voted Best New Act at Carnaval 2008. I wonder if they did the same songs both times? I'll bet they just flipped the set list upside down and did it that way.

Well, anyway, we watched them come to the center of the Flats, then headed up for liquor before the next group came by, who Carol was also touting as having a huge rising star as a singer. While we go up, please enjoy the graphic for VoaDois' web page under construction. I don't know if it's still under construction, this was just a good image from Google.

bg_site.jpgBelieve it or not, we were almost out of Bacardi Gold, and Pettus wanted some vodka, so Robo, Pettus and I decided to venture out into the mass of Brazilians and their guests. It was so easy. Down the elevator packed with precisely the right amount of people, a good brushing off, delousing, and smiling up and down from the downstairs gate guys, and we were free! It was like being some sort of celebrity.

Out we went into the humanity that heretofore we had only seen through the windows of Carol's expensive imported SUV. Wow! I was totally liquor-friendly by this time, throwing my incredible Portuguese around like confetti, talking to anyone and everyone. I felt completely safe and free. Robo and Pettus must have thought otherwise, because they had to rein me in a couple of times. Actually, this "reining in" consisted of them trying to explain in broken English that they were in charge of a lunatic.

We wandered around until we came to the first rolled up door with a cage behind it that had liquor for sale. Why did we even THINK there'd be anything resembling Meyers's? Hell NO. There was only more Bacardi Gold, and at a premium price that was tantamount to buying it in America at a discount place. Still cheap, but you get what you pay for.

And let me wax philosophical for just a second. I feel like a complete turd for dogging Bacardi Gold so badly. I used to LOVE me some Bacardi back in the day. So I've contributed a great deal of cash to the company's bottom line, and do not feel the least bit guilty for the gentle bashing. But also notice that we continued to drink the stuff throughout our stay in Salvador, and, unfortunately into Rio.

claudia.jpgWe headed back to the underground let-in place, were immediately whisked in and given makeovers and thumbs ups by the guards. So back up to the condo to liquor up for the next act, which was Babado Novo, with their bloco Eu Vou. I also didn't know at the time that this woman was as hugely popular as she was. Claudia Leitte, the front lady, was spectacular. And if I'm not hallucinating again from things I know now but didn't know then, I could swear that they played one of my now favorite songs, "A Camisa E O Botão." It translates, "a shirt and a button"--as in, "we go together like a shirt and a button."

Why, oh WHY am I such a weakling that I can't carry that camera at all times? There it sits upstairs while Claudia is prancing and belting catchy tunes wearing a frothy dress that matched her frothy blonde hair. She even had a guy whose only job was to wipe her sweaty legs and change her shoes. I am NOT SHITTING! Here's her picture, and I'm ashamed to say it's not one I took. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

I got this picture from a Brazilian online news article about a "supposed" bitchfest between Claudia and Ivete Sangalo! I was able to read enough of the Portuguese to translate Ivete's remark about Claudia's rising popularity: "We love each other. There is plenty of room in the hearts of Brazil for two stars. . ."  Hooo YEAH!!! Rowrrrrrrr!!!!

Just like in America, only HOTTER!

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