Brazil
When you think about Brazil, the first thing that might come to mind is carnival, samba and Christ the Redeemer. In a culture where we are constantly bombarded with propaganda about how dangerous places are, it can be quite easy to be intimidated into sticking to destinations that feel, well, safe. I knew going into our trip to Brazil, which just so happened to be a birthday trip/honeymoon, that people would think my wife and I crazy for making Rio de Janeiro our first South American trip. Not to mention that neither one of us spoke a single word of Portuguese, but more on that later.
I can’t lie, when we boarded the plane in Charlotte, North Carolina I was met with both last second nerves and an overwhelming amount of excitement. Brazil had been on the top of my travel bucket list for years and going during Carnival? Every street photographer dreams of capturing the rich culture and vivid colors of this historic event and I was about to be in the midst of it.
When we landed we headed straight to our first Airbnb and as the Uber driver weaved in and out of traffic we caught our first glimpse of the city. Corrugated tin roofs and graffiti surrounded us as motorbikes zoomed by, wildly swerving between cars and onto sidewalks. I will never forget that first night. We walked up the street from our quaint art gallery accommodation to this little restaurant whose decor looked more like a marina than a food establishment. We sat down and ordered what we thought would be single portions of cuisine that made our mouths water just reading the description. Little did we know, we had ordered enough food for at least three grown men but we ate until we were so full that the walk back to the room was a much needed reprieve.
Aside from every bite of food we put in our mouths during the duration of the trip being quite honestly some of the most delicious dishes we had ever had (if you’re a cheese lover, Brazilian food is definitely for you), we found that the culture of the people we came into contact with was vastly different than what we had heard warnings about all our lives. Everyone we spoke to (which was often mostly hand gestures and slowly spoken English because iPhones are a sought after commodity in Brazil we were told by locals) was genuinely so kind and helpful. We were cautioned on where not to frequent as foreigners and given so many wonderful recommendations. I truly cannot describe how welcomed we felt everywhere we went. I don’t think there was a single place where we were not met with a smiling face or someone willing to try to figure out what the heck we were saying.
The language barrier was not something we anticipated being such a challenge but it was certainly navigable. Most of the people we met understood some English but could not speak it. Others would happily pass their phone or hold it up for us to speak into. From the tourist attractions, which we tend to try to steer clear of, to the local hole in the wall restaurants, we were always made to feel welcome. Even when we found ourselves wandering into a Michelin Star restaurant in shorts and t-shirts. We were even made to feel welcome by a youth beach soccer team that we came across one evening as we walked along the beach after dinner. The kids, the oldest of which may have been eleven, were so incredibly talented. We stood and watched as they showcased their best skills in scrimmage. One kid, after crossing up another player and hitting a hat trick ran across the sandy field with his arms in the air screaming “ooh bon dia!” mocking both the kid still laying in the sand and the keeper who had missed the catch. As we continued to watch, the kids engaged in broken English conversation with us, even offering to let me kick the ball when it rolled out of bounds. I laughed and told him he didn’t want to see me kick it.
We learned much more than just how hospitable the people of Brazil were. We learned how truly significant Carnival is culturally. It is a time where people celebrate individuality but also a shared history. The festival and parade are the culmination of a year’s worth of work and millions of dollars. Each costume is designed and hand sewn by samba club members. Each rhinestone and feather are meticulously placed and uniformly so, since every costume in a section must match. Planning for the next year begins immediately following the conclusion of the competition, themes are chosen, music is composed and costumes and floats sketched out.
Going into Carnival we had honestly no idea that it was a competition. We thought it more of just a cultural celebration. Seeing the work in action, as each wing or alas moved in unison to the sound of samba music. It was poetry in motion. We got the local experience. A Brazilian native and her German husband explained the scoring system and how there are different classes or levels of samba schools. My wife even got an impromptu samba lesson from another member of the crowd. We stayed out until after 3 am. Mystified by the color and heartbeat of the parade. Each group was as energetic as the last. A sea of color, feathers, sequins and dancing. Lying in the bed that night, we couldn’t help but talk about how grateful we were to be able to experience Brazil in all its glory and laughing at how crazy our experience getting to the sambadrome was.
We had originally decided that we would forgo the parade in its entirety. Seeing as tickets were super expensive and we were unsure which avenues to purchase them from in the US were actually legitimate. After a nauseating and wild Uber ride to our behind the scenes carnival tour, we found tickets to the parade for $40 USD each and decided there was no way we were missing this opportunity. After our tour, we headed to the hotel where we were supposed to pick up the tickets. It was about 4pm when we stepped into a lengthy and slow moving line that was wrapped around the block from the entrance to the hotel. After about three hours, we finally reached the first staff member who was making sure the email confirmation matched the ID of the person who had booked the tickets. What we failed to realize was that my ID, which the tickets were booked under, was not physically with me but rather locked away in my luggage in our Airbnb. We offered a photo of my ID to the staff member, begging them to accept that as proof. To no avail. So we loaded up in another Uber, drove thirty minutes back to the room to get the ID and thirty minutes back. Long story short, it was after 11pm before we ever even got the tickets. We hopped on a bus to the sambadrome and were honestly just thankful that we made it. All that to say, it truly would not be an adventure with the Lawrences if there was not some form of misadventure we could laugh at later.
Like I said, we tend to steer clear of tourist attractions and aside from Sugarloaf Mountain and Christ the Redeemer, this trip was no exception. We opted instead for an incredible food tour, a behind the scenes Carnival experience (where we got to see a factory where the floats and costumes were actively being created), and two favela tours. The favela tours were both humbling and eye opening experiences. It is quite easy to be blinded by how blessed we are to live the lives we do. We had our very first motorbike (yes, of any kind) experience ever. As we stood with our guide, a large group of motorbikes pulled up. We passed over 20 Brazilian Real and were told to find a bike and get on, as it was the only way for us to get to the top to begin our tour. We hopped on and held on to the grab bars on the back for dear life as we weaved through traffic, narrowly squeezing between buses and dumpsters, cars and pedestrians as we wound up the curvy and surprisingly well maintained road through the favela.
We entered the walkways between the houses as we began the walking portion of our tour. Crammed sometimes only a shoulder's distance apart from each other, the towering walls of houses surrounded us and the bramble of electrical wires hung not far above our heads. At times, they looked more like bird nests than power lines. Enough so that it would make you wonder how they ever knew what went where in the first place. As we walked further and further into what seemed like a never-ending tunnel of turns and concrete stairs, we heard all about life in the favelas. How people made money, and the pride they took in the place where they lived. Even faced with adversity such as gang violence and water access issues, the people within bloomed with hospitality and pride in the lives they had built for themselves.
I feel like that is a wonderful generalization for the spirit of Brazil and Brazilians: resilient in the face of adversity and genuinely hospitable. We left Brazil, hooked on acai (which is a delectable frozen treat made with the berries of palm trees, often served with granola), with eyes even wider for adventure. With a love for a culture and a people we had only scratched the surface of understanding. And so passionate about recalling our time there as one of the most enlightening trips we have ever taken. With a newfound confidence that with adventurous spirit, a little common sense and an open mind, we were capable of going anywhere. In pursuit of capturing the humanity, culture, and essence in each place we go through the lens of a camera and written word.
-Until the next adventure
