I could hear drums pounding even from the 17th story of The Matchbox, my new residence in Alto Leblon. I believe it began at precisely 12:01am, when the first official day of Carnaval began. The duration of this event is technically only four days, but the blocos (localized neighborhood parties that are free to attend, as opposed to the extravagant performances at the Sambodromo) go on for days after. Hundreds of thousands of people flow into Rio, as it is considered one of the best locations for Carnival. (Salvador and Recife are also well known.)
So what’s Carnaval all about, you wonder? Strategically placed before Lent, I see it as a sort of “last hoorah” – for what many people consider to be vices are not only celebrated, but essential aspects of the festivity. Nearly everywhere you look people are drinking, smoking, kissing or gyrating their bodies in a most sexualized way. The songs, mostly samba, often contain social commentary - none of which I could understand, and none of which I think anybody cared to understand at that particular moment. But scattered pockets of people sing along. And men dress up as women, and women wear wings and wigs, and there are children and confetti and smoke from meat grilles, and hoses to cool down everything.
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