Second day in Rio, part 7–Carnaval

Vila Isabel proves that Brazilians are anything but indolent

Vila Isabel had exploded in the east with the traditional fireworks, but in tech savvy Rio of the 21st century, every parade was accompanied by the garish flashing of sponsorships on a huge digital screen. For some (smart) reason, they went for maximum overdrive on the flashing, and it blended almost comfortably with the pyrotechnics and the lineup to follow.

We also noticed a giant television camera on a track that ran the length of the parade route. During the performances the camera would zip back and forth at lightning speed. Just another cool thing to watch.

Flávia and I had become real buddies by this time (translated “several beers each”), and she began to tell me about good bars for us to visit in Rio.
“Carioca bar,” she said several times. Why of course! Karaoke! I LOVE karaoke. If we got a decent buzz, maybe Marcelo could escort us to our humiliation. “Yes!” she said excitedly, seeing my enthusiasm. “Ees very good Carioca bar!”
“Karakoe? Where you sing along, right?” I asked, beginning to wonder.
“Yes! Lots of singing! Great music!” Flávia enthused. “Ees great Carioca bar. Not tourists so much!”
“?” I stared at her trying to figure this all out.
“Oh!!” she finally realized. “Not karaoke! Carioca! Locals are called Cariocas,” she told me in a sentence punctuated by “uhhh.” So wonderful to have a new partner to climb the Tower of Babel with.

And here they were! Vila Isabel with their show, Ossos do Oficio, a salute to the workers of Brazil, whatever kind of worker they may have been or may be. They were also intent on helping to dispel the myth of the lazy Brazilian.

If that was the case, they did it right out of the chute with two whirling dervishes that eventually slowed down enough to reveal that they were the flag couple for Vila Isabel. Being as these two can garner a lot of points, I would have to say that they were magnetic, funny and sexy in addition to being great dancers. The guy and girl had a whole Louis Prima/Keely Smith vibe about them that was very entertaining, and managed to compete easily with all the flash around them..

The first big float was a couple of winged horses with fish tails bearing psychedelic compasses. Beautiful, stately and trippy all at the same time, I erroneously dub them “Pegasus.” The glow underneath was like some people put under their cars in blue or purple. I personally love it, though Jean would probably not support an expenditure for such an accessory on my Honda.

Aha! My first sighting of “the great and powerful Oz” in the belly of Pegasus 1 (or is it 2). And for a flying horse, this nag sure needs a lot of guys to push.

Being that I have no inkling what the dual Pegasi had to do with workers in Brazil, I’ll now proceed with a great and valid account of what was to follow from Vila Isabel’s bag of tricks.

The next float was devoted to the Amazons, the mythical female warriors of the jungle, and for whom the real Amazon is named. Amazons were purported to be women with no breasts, I think due to the fact that they would get caught in a bowstring, and no Amazon wanted her tit lopped off by a faulty shot at a male interloper. In essence, the Amazons were the first working women of Brazil. Enjoy them in all their glory, but be warned: these are just make-believe Amazons. They all have breasts. All of them.


Once again, I will remind you, these girls are play acting.

How do you reckon these girls got this cushy gig? Being delightfully half naked in a shower of cool water for the good of your samba school? For mankind? Carámba! Does that look like Hillary Swank or WHAT? Surely these girls were not warriors, but, like, fashion coordinators or enablers for the Amazons themselves. There is no other explanation.

And here’s Robo and Pettus posing in front of all this pageantry. Notice how Robo’s eyes are still about 30 yards in the back of his head.

This next little blast of samba-steppers represented the Amazon once the women decided to let the men in. Coordination of colors. Orderliness. Hidden agendas.

The next float represented the slaves of Brazil, exploited by the Portuguese when they first claimed the marvelous land mass for their own. These are warriors that have become ex-warriors, but still manage to persist.


He’s a big one, isn’t he? Notice the girls behind his arm.

The next float represented the graceful adoption of servitude to the Portuguese royalty by the Brazilians. It also represented a huge amount of enlightenment and education for the Brazilians, directly and indirectly. The direct association with royalty had an immediate effect. The cultural seeds planted by King John VI, especially when Rio was the capital of Portugal, had a major long-term impact. The fact that a whole float would be devoted to such a thing is further indication that the Brazilians are not immune to work in any fashion, and celebrate the work they have.


Shall we zoom in? Who are the African hotties? Are they the concubines of Portuguese royalty? Did they begin the blending of the Brazilian into what eventually became the khaki rainbow of inhabitants it is today? Notice the girl sitting in the windowsill above, representing the awareness of a greater life that came to the servants of royalty.

Woo! All the guilt that flooded over me forced me to look around. Yikes! I think it’s one of the dolls from Tijuca’s gig! Hey, wait a minute! He took his hair down. What gives? Somewhere Tijuca’s wardrobe mistress is steaming mad.

I turned my camera back to the street to complete a hilarious juxtaposition of images. Vila Isabel’s first solo star was all that, and a point-winner of the highest caliber. Flávia told me who she was, but I, uh, didn’t catch the name.

Ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-chiiiiiiing!  That’s the sound of Vila Isabel’s samba stock rising. Etcetera.

This next group of more warriors doubling as percussionists seemed incongruous, especially after we had experienced concubines and other delightful trappings of cushy Portuguese society. But the near-camouflage of the drums made these performances all the more mysterious. Each group had over 300 percussionists, but if you didn’t know they were there, you would completely overlook them. Do they get points for surreptitiousness? These guys definitely mean business.

What’s a parade without a dragon, I always say. This big fella ridden by a Brazilian star or Vila Isabel bigwig heralded the float celebrating immigration. Japan is well represented, as there are more of her descendants in Brazil than in any other country. In 1908, a huge number of Japanese arrived after a trip halfway around the world aboard the Kasatu-Maru, bringing yet another spice to the cultural banquet served here everyday.


Let’s not forget farming. Brazil is, after all, a huge mass of fertile land, and the most incredible things grow there. A major portion of the population has made a living in this hand to mouth fashion in the past. It is changing rapidly, though, and the farmer is being replaced not only here, but everywhere else, with something much less desirable.

These guys were fantastic. How they managed to keep their noses to the grindstone and samba at the same time was totally cool. The sad, backbreaking positions they held were a strange counterpoint to all the frivolity surrounding them. Especially in the form of the food they had managed to grow: like something from Motel Hell.


The corn people seemed to be having fun. They preceded the next solo star, a woman Flávia told me was older, and a venerable, but possibly fading star. By the plethora of folks surrounding her, I would say she’s either paranoid or a terrible diva. She looks more scared than sexy. Sound of slide whistle going down.

Exploding head guy leading the next float is obviously very important to Brazilian industry. Marcelo will tell me who he is.

The burgeoning car industry in Brazil got the royal treatment with the next float, a very cool contraption that had silver men and cars rotating in a crazy undulating fashion, like the little Bayern Curve ride at the state fair.


And of course we had the car guys! I’m sure they and Tijuca’s dinosaur guys were good pals, being as one couldn’t live without the other. They kind of reminded me of Monopoly pieces.

Tourism got the next highlight, showcasing Brazil’s eagerness to bring in visitors. I’ll be back, I know that.

Finally! A Carnaval costume that I would wear.  Only I would resist the long pants and ask for shorts in 100% cotton, and I would learn the words for “galded” and “yeast infection” in Portuguese first.

These guys look like some type of beach music band that was popular in the sixties getting back together to play again in 2008. But I think they represent the eager members of the tourism industry, beckoning you like sirens to come, come, come seeeeeeeeee Bdraa-ceeeel! I’m sold, already!

I was about to keel over from all the stimulation and beginning to fear some sort of seizure, but was loving every second of it. It was late as hell, but nobody was tired. We wanted to see who was next!