Carnaval in São Paulo

São Paulo Day 3

I met Randy in the morning at Ibirapuera Park, the iconic green space here comparable to Central Park in NYC or Lincoln Park in Chicago. We rented bicycles for the cost of $4 USD an hour and pedaled along the bike paths soaking in the sunshine and taking in the sights of runners, families, buskers, and a plethora of grandiose trees covered in moss and vines. It felt good to be moving my body to help get me out of my head, and there was no shortage of eye candy of all genders doing their athleisure things. The park also has a planetarium, museums, a skatepark, dog area, tennis and basketball courts, and a couple other things I’ve never noticed before at a public park that I appreciated.

I’m a long distance runner, and a necessary evil on longer runs (10+ miles) is the need to replenish your sugar levels. This is most easily done by sucking down these weird gels they pretty much only sell at running stores. However at Ibirapuera, you could buy them at the snack/drink stands. Neat. The other thing that was new to me, was seeing professional photographers in orange vests hanging out at the edges of the trails and snapping pics. I didn’t take the time to fully translate the signs I saw, but from what I understand you can go to a website, and get your picture downloaded. Similar to how they do for races. If you’re vain like me? Neat.

Maybe the neatest thing of all is that I had my first ever açaí! They had some stands selling them, and I topped mine with strawberries, kiwi, and honey. Yum. We enjoyed our little sweet treats while watching young skateboarders and elderly tennis players and chatting about life stuff like work, aspirations, and how depressing our hometowns are.

After we rode 12 miles and I did some “X-Games shit” according to Randy (hopped off a curb), we dropped our bikes off and headed back to his hotel, starting to see the first inklings of Carnival starting from people in festive attire. We were sweaty and tired, so we fell back on the hotel restaurant and my world was opened up in a neutral/negative way. I first had a caesar salad with chicken?? I was not expecting that. I usually deviate from my dietary restrictions when traveling, but I didn’t intend to start it with a caesar salad. I then ate pizza like the Paulistas do, with a knife and fork. I can’t say I loved that experience either. I ain’t that classy and I like my pizza like I like my mints. Thin. After a light lunch conversation on the impact of AI deteriorating humanity’s personal voice and memes causing society to have more surface level conversation, it was time for us to part ways. Tchau Randy. :)

I took the metro back to my hostel and the party was really getting started. São Paulo has more than 600 “blocos” during the 4 days of Carnival. Blocos range from humongous parades of tens of thousands of people, to small neighborhood parties, and even activities for children. This leads to millions of people out and about in the city to celebrate. Imagine Mardi Gras+Coachella on a much bigger scale. More on blocos to come later.

In the metro I saw people in tutus every color of the rainbow, painting each other’s faces on the steps of the station, and jugs of indiscriminate green juice being chugged without abandon. After coming to the surface, I even caught a glimpse of gas station attendants in tinsel skirts worn over their work uniforms. The over-the-top festive atmosphere was honestly adorable. Humans inherently need to party! We need to let loose and forget our fears and worries and struggles! We especially need to wear goofy shit and dance and hug our friends and lovers!

After a short nap and a short bus ride, I was on to the next thing, a dance party downtown hosted by the Brazilian dance music record label, Gop Tun. I found this from the website Resident Advisor. Check it out if you’re an electronic music nerd in a big city.

I witnessed people in probably every state of inebriation on the 10 min walk from the bus to the festival in the city center. Music poured out of bars, thousands of people walked the streets, physical and verbal love flowed freely, and the sunset painted the historic buildings beautiful shades of orange and yellow. Once I got into the grounds I felt my shoulders loosen and drop. It was so nice to be in an environment that is like a second home to me at this point. I know the norms and what to expect even if I don’t know the language. I know contextually when a joke is being made about someone using two sinks at once and making the rest of us wait. And dammit, I know how to boogie!

I couldn’t tell you a single DJ’s name that was playing, but I felt at home when I heard Donna Summer, Frankie Knuckles, and even a Portuguese version of Pump Up The Jam that the crowd went bonkers for. I Shazammed some new-to-me hot bangers, joined a group of 3 people to dance with them for a while without ever saying a word, got somehow surrounded by the most shirtless dudes I’ve ever seen, and witnessed countless makeout sessions. The inhibitions are loose during Carnival! I was stone-cold sober, and the craziest thing I did was unbutton my shirt completely to nip out. Sorry to disappoint you if you were expecting something more scandalous..

After a couple hours straight of dancing near people dressed like sexy Mario’s, Yoshi’s, Nemo’s, and Mike Wazowskis, my fun-meter was starting to peak. I did as I do when going out without alcohol and I ordered a Red Bull. In Portuguese it’s a “Jed Ball”. Fun fact. The Jed Ball caffeinated me enough to get emotional and tear up over a moment when the DJ mixed Smalltown Boy with Say My Name and some girlies on the side of the crowd lost their shit. I’ve been practicing seeing people’s inner children more, and that was a bonafide moment, seeing them hop and skip and link arms and sing into the night sky with glee. Ahh, the power of music. I find that it is easier to appreciate people for who they are instead of focusing on who they aren’t, and also easier to forgive their mistakes when taking this perspective of witnessing the inner child.

A metro ride home and 24k steps later, and I was back at the hostel, where I met someone who could apparently smell the American on me. His name was Matthew, a former American (Destin, FL?!) and now an expat/journalist living in Rio de Janeiro. We bonded over writing and I learned more about the culture of the country from his perspective, as well as the hostel host. The host, Eric, was disappointed that I was from the US but didn’t have a “country” accent, so I put on the drawl for him and they both loved it. Yeehaw. In return I received a lesson from the host that the men in Rio de Janeiro are so sinister that they have three balls. Take that as you will. Once I got ready for bed, I realized I ended up with an impressive amount of glitter on me despite never putting it on, due to the power of bodies smushing while dancing. Love that. I don’t have many pictures for the blog from this day, but I made up for it with the next.

São Paulo Day 4

I tried my best to sleep in, despite the throaty and powerful bark of the dog next door. I craved a potent coffee once I actually got up. I had tentative plans to meet up with Matthew and Eric (the hostel host) for blocos, but figured I’d find my own adventure post-coffee in case the plans didn’t materialize. I walked to a cute vegan cafe nearby and got a cold brew and a mortadella. Let me tell you, that was the best vegan cheese I’ve ever had in my life. It usually smells like my rock climbing shoes after a session, but that one passed the sniff/taste test. I wish I would have asked what it was made out of! I then had to turn down a lil cutie kid who came up to tables selling what looked like banners, but I was envious of his confidence.

I left the cafe and noticed a few people in sparkles and glittery bodysuits walking in the same direction, so I decided to follow. After ten minutes, we ended up at a park (Praça Rafael Sapienza) where vendors were starting to set up and a giant bus was moving into place with speakers on top. I figured this could be interesting, so I popped a squat on the side and waited. A couple people tried to talk to me, and my lack of language left me lacking. I know it’s okay to travel without knowing a language well (thanks to my friend Chloe for that reminder), but I often wonder what opportunities or connections I miss out on as a result.

The park started to fill in and I was soon ass-to-elbows surrounded by people and then sweating my ass (and elbows) off. After a mic check (I love hearing mic checks in other languages) and a samba drum line got into place, I noticed a mascot headed person that looked like the singer who appeared on top of the bus, who also looked like the face on the banner on the side of the bus. Surely this dude wasn’t that conceited??

The bombastic music started with plenty of ra-ta-ta-ta-tas on the drums, smoooooth bass lines, and lyrics that everyone yelled the words to while jumping around. I realized this amount of enthusiasm wouldn’t be for an artist playing in a small park, probably. I context clued myself in and surmised these were Jorge Ben songs being covered and reimagined with more energy. The banner on the stage said Ben Jorge, so I should have realized it sooner, but this was a cover band playing music by one of Brazil’s most famous musicians! I was only familiar with a couple of his songs prior, but I was having a blast seeing people scream their hearts out.

I don’t think there is a US equivalent artist to contextualize this moment to. Maybe Bob Dylan if he had songs that were actually catchy and singable. I was able to enjoy it for an hour or so before the claustrophobia set in, it was like swimming upstream with your organs being squeezed trying to leave the park.

On to the metro and on to the Liberdade/Japantown neighborhood. Brazil has more than 2 million Japanese descendants, and a large number of them live in São Paulo state. The Liberade neighborhood is actually home to the largest Japanese population outside of Japan . Japan is a country I want to soon visit, so I decided to check out this area as an homage. I came out of the dark station and into the bright light. The smell of greasy street food is heavy in the air. The afternoon sun is beating down without abandon, and the narrow streets are packed full of vendor stands selling colorful trinkets, leafy plants, kimonos, art sculptures, and more.

I realized I walked right into the once-a-week Liberdade street market during a holiday and decide to walk the other way to give my senses a chance to recalibrate and notice the São Paulo Cathedral in the distance. I started heading toward it like I believe in a Judeo-Christian God or something.I walked inside and uttered an unholy word upon seeing the scale, the stained glass, the gargantuan area for pews.. I mosey along in reverence and use the peace and quiet to find a ramen place on my phone, just like God and the architects of this church intended.

I stopped at an Asian grocery store on the way so I could make change and I ended up with an agua com gas and dried shredded squid in charcoal BBQ flavor, somehow. I do love an “abnormal” snack to be honest. I get to the ramen place, grab a spicy bowl, embarrassingly have to have the waitress translate a simple question of wanting ice and lemon with my water, and overhear kids at the next table sing Replay by Iyaz?

With a full belly and very hydrated at this point, my senses were ready for the onslaught of the street market. I got a mate drink and strolled around aimlessly, my luggage’s fullness necessitating a discerning shopper’s eye. Cute moments were street singers, a Sonic the Hedgehog mascot hugging people, and children begging their parents for these squeaking and hopping rabbit robots.

During my ramen lunch, I browsed the São Paulo Carnival schedule looking for a bloco that was close by and interesting. The translated website lost a lot of the meanings, but I understood (and was enticed by) “Minho Queens”! It was an afterparty after the Pabllo Vittar bloco earlier in the day where drag queens performed.

I snagged a free early entry ticket and walked through the Centro, with echoes of concerts bouncing between the high-rise buildings. After making it across a huge bridge spanning interstates, I was transported into sunset Samba street parties and even more pure, unadulterated joy. It made me really appreciate the version of me who inspires others to dance due to my unabashed enthusiasm.

I got to the club, where three different security guards checked our bags. I was petrified they were going to pull my shredded squid out and point at me and everyone would then laugh. Thankfully they were just looking for drinks. I had a bottle of water that they somehow didn’t notice until the 3rd check, and told me in Portuguese (and hand signals) that I had to go back outside and pour it out, but I just chugged it instead. Hydrate or die-drate y’all.

I went upstairs to the balcony for breathing room, and I then spent most of the next two hours shaking what my mama gave me to Brazilian pop stars and reggaeton type beats, while men grinded on each other next to me. This kind of thing sure never happened on Sunday nights where I come from.

I tried to exit from where I came into the club, the bouncer wanted to give me a card for re-entry (I think), but I tried/failed to say I just wanted to leave. The security guard wasn’t having it and we were not understanding each other. He put his hand up to my chest to keep me from going out, but then got distracted by people behind me so I slipped around him and realized that exit had been turned into a smoker’s area. So, I hopped the waist-high fence due to feeling trapped and overstimulated, much to the amusement of the smokers and people in line to get in. Who knows where the actual exit was.

An Uber ride home with a driver eager to practice his English was comforting, and we compared Brazil’s beaches to Oregon’s. Speedos vs sweatshirts. After a shower and a grocery store trip, I saw Matthew again and his friend Rao. We talked of the balance of responsibility vs freedom, business plans of artisanal farms, and how in Indonesia atheism is a punishable crime. You learn something new everyday. I packed my bags late that night, and fell asleep with a confused stomach, exhausted legs, and a full heart. Thanks for the party São Paulo! Next I am on to Paraty.