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.

Look 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?

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 where you can do your own mix and match. Buy as much or little as you want. No commitments.

 

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.

Believe 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.

We 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!