Raining in Rio

Still seething from the bad turistas, I head out into the rain and hop on one of those "insane" buses, which delivers me unharmed to Lapa, yes, the same Lapa that I have "done" maybe fifty dozen times already and am still not tired of.

Tonight, for a change, I do NOT go to an escola. I'm not as fond of the Saturday night parties as I am of the technical rehearsals. You can never really see the bateria very well on Saturday. I would have headed to Mocidade, but it's been raining so heavily the streets are flooded. So instead I head to Rio Scenarium to meet Pat and her friends.

Rio Scenarium, which is one of my 4 favorite clubs in Lapa (all 4 always have excellent music and are totally charming in their decor) is on little section of the Rua do Lavradio. It used to be all by itself, but bars in Rio tend to attract a chatty horde of folks hanging out in the street ,which attracts street vendors, which sooner or later inspires somebody to open another bar, and so it goes.

By now, turns out that little section of street has been all spiffed up since last year! A bunch more clubs have opened and at least 2 others now have live music (and pretty good pagode, to judge from what I can hear). A whole section of the street is closed to through traffic and lined with little bars, and of course the street vendors. The cute old buildings are all lit up now with new colored lights. It's lovely.

I head on in and it is PACKED inside. But the great thing about Rio Scenarium is that it's got 3 whole stories, so vast and sprawling and so loaded with strange old furniture that you can always find not only a seat, but usually an entire sofa set all to yourself, if you just climb high enough. And from all 3 stories you can look down and see the stage. My favorite pagode band Casuarina is playing. I'm a little bummed that they seem to have added a drumset, but they've still got such marvelous lineup, with 2 pandeiros and great seven-string guitar and a great rebolo player. And they actually sing in key. So I forgive them.

I'm watching from the second floor when Casuarina does something that startles me:

They start to sing in harmony.

Oh!

I guess they don't normally do that in pagode. I hadn't ever realized. It's downright shocking to hear vocal harmony in pagode.

And it's terrific. I can't believe how much texture and beauty it adds. I start to dance and just can't stop.

I dance my way through the entire vast Rio Scenarium, looking for Pat. Never find her but see many fabulous sights: an entire wall covered with antique clocks. Another wall of mirrors in lavishly ornate frames. An large assortment of spurs and saddles, one of them mounted on a life-size wooden donkey. A set of feather masks. An old motorcycle. A collection of radios. An actual buggy, sans horse. A ceiling that has a set of upside-down furniture attached to it. An enormous glass cabinet, covering a huge wall, completely filled with thousands of tiny glass vials of mysterious powders. An art show that includes three incredible modern-art quilts.

I have a caipirinha. The music is unbelievably good, and I don't think it's just the caipirinha. I'm so happy here.

I dance and dance and dance.

Eventually the music ends and I have to leave. I worm my way through the crowd for hours to pay my bill, and eventually realize the pandeiro player is standing next to me. I tap him on the shoulder to thank for his beautiful playing - he's very pleased to have somebody thank him! - and I'm making my way out when a guy, seated near me, tugs on my arm. I lean down to hear what he has to say and he says "Parabens. Voce e uma moca muita bonita." (Congratulations. You're a very pretty girl.)

Now that is one thing I did NOT expect to hear, in this crowd of, oh, maybe 50,000 gorgeous young Brazilian girls in their little skirts. It must be the little flower that I have pinned in my hair tonight, huh? I don't know if he is just being kind or what, but I say thanks, with a big smile, and dance my way on out. Now there is the Cidade Maravilhosa for you. The city where EVERY woman is a "moca muita bonita" to somebody, and that somebody just walks right on up and says so.

I'm not ready to be done for the night. What can I do now? I walk toward the arches of Lapa and suddenly I hear.....

BANGA!!!!! Oh my god! It's the second Banga show! I had assumed I would have to miss it, but it's still going on! I talk the ticket-taker down to half price because it's so late, and charge on in there and there's a HUGE crowd and they are doing all my favorites, and there are all my friends again and we dance and sing and jump around. I get a whole hour and a half of the show, till 4am. Damn, I think, partway through, I think, damn, you know what, Banga is really the best show in town. If you REALLY like to dance, if you REALLY like samba but you also like funk and rock, if you want to hear people pushing modern Brazilian music, and definitely if you are the kind of person who would like a band that has an 11:2 ratio of percussionists to string players, this is the band for you! There's my alltime favorite guest singer, Sergiao, and he's so fantastic the crowd won't let him go - they insist on encore after encore. One of my favorite Banga girls, a magnificent blond girl who I've always called the Valkyrie, gets the entire crowd into an insane game of holding hands and running through each others hands. More and more people join in until they're all running at top speed underneath the bridges of hands and then running the other way being the bridges. It's crazy and everybody's laughing and out of breath. In the next tune everybody joins in an enormous ciranda, a circle dance that lurches around and around the entire stage. Brazilians are such good dancers and can dance so sexy, but they get so silly and playful sometimes, doing these hilarious, simple little kid's dances, which they are appallingly bad at, but they throw themselves into it with all the intensity of a pack of 8-year-olds. It's so cool.

During the next tune I get into a long talk with an adorable guy who makes beautiful jewelry out of fossil shark teeth and feathers and pieces of aluminum. I buy two pieces, he's thrilled, he tells me all about making them, he shows me the fossil shark teeth, he tells me where his studio is. He mentions he's from Niteroi. I say "Niteroi, where the escola Viradouro is?" His face completely lights up. "Yes! I'm Viradouro! I'm Viradouro!" he says delightedly, tapping his chest ("I'm Viradouro" means "I'm a fan of Viradouro, and a member of Viradouro, and I grew up with Viradouro, and Viradouro is the escola that I love with all my heart.") . He's totally thrilled that an American has heard of his escola. Presto, another new friend.

5am. Birds are starting to sing. I hop a minivan back to my bed, and think of those two Brits who were holed up in the hostel tonight looking for an English-language show on the TV, because "it's raining in Rio and there's nothing to do".