Lyn's Log, 1st March 2006
Salvador Carnaval

Salvador, Brazil.
S12º58', W38º31'
7,399 miles.

Carnaval started modestly on Thursday evening 23rd February and grew each day to the last on Tuesday 28th February. The buses from outside the marina, the old centre of Salvador, which went to Barra during the earlier part of the evening, were full to bursting, despite there being a lot of them. The queue for the lift up to the Pelourinho area grew from just a few metres to right down the street. On board in the marina we were blasted with a cacophony of sounds. It was impossible to miss Carnaval! You just had to get out there as there would be no sleep before two in the morning, and then rise late in the day.

In the Pelourinho area there was an area where some smaller bands paraded on foot. They often included children and many families with children visited this area. Sometimes the bands had a short time on a stage in front of a large band of dummy figures. In the main circuit the drum bands played just in front of the trucks containing all the sound equipment and speakers, and its own, or hired, singer and band on the top. In front of the drum band were dancers in matching outfits, and sometimes a caipoira group as well, performing their dance-fights at intervals. It was good to see all ages and shapes of people both dancing and in the bands. The whole thing slowly moved forward with frequent stops. In the Campo Grande and Barra areas the trucks were impressive long-vehicles packed with sound equipment and enormous ear-splitting speakers, with the band and ‘king and queen’ of the Bloco dancing on the top. There were no drum bands in front of these. Sometimes there are so many followers that there are two trucks, the second having a bar in its middle. Many of the Blocos have men in drag, dressed in matching mini skirts and tops, one lot as geisha girls, in front of the truck. The whole Bloco with its followers, are encircled in a rope guided and pulled by men stationed all around it. To be inside the rope you have to be a follower wearing the right coloured gear. One day there were hundreds of men wearing blue and white robes, matching sandals and socks and blue towelling imitation turbans, with ’75 years sons of Ghandi’ written on the robes. We wondered it were possible to be a Rastafarian son of Ghandi as one man had dread-locks hanging from beneath his turban!

There were enormous numbers of military police on guard in groups of four or five, some on raised platforms and some walking the circuits. The crowds were also interspersed with lads carrying large polystyrene boxes containing beer, water bottles and cans of fizz, kept cold in ice. At various road junctions and squares were stalls selling drinks, only in cans or plastic cups, and various local snacks. We experienced the ‘atmosphere’ in the crowds and sitting at a bar on the edge of the circuit, a little more pleasant, but not being able to join in some of the songs which the locals new, or wishing to dance, we were not as impressed with this area. We had enjoyed walking round the Pelourinho area with the drum bands beating out their African rhythms making it impossible not to move to the beat, and the imaginatively dressed dancers were a delight to watch and photograph.