Carnaval 2015 in Olinda

Normally when I party, one day suits me plenty. I like quitting while it is still fun so I can reminisce the rare days spent gyrating, mixing my alcohol, and feel the crowded intimacy of glowing compatriots. After our serendipitous libations with the giant rooster, I knew I had to rally for our next day in Olinda. Celebrating day number three of Carnaval at a fancy pousada (hotel) snugly tucked in the row house streets of Olinda, the heart of intense and meaningful "Cultural Carnaval" for northeast Brazil. Of course, there was the predictable flow of cheap cold beer, grilled meats, trashed streets, and throes of drunkards too.

Mark, my father-in-law, and I caught a cab and arrived at the foot of Olinda around 10 am and began our adventurous hike up the streets. Drum groups called batucadas dominated the cobblestone streets like the Pied Piper, drawing crowds of people behind them. Giant bonecos (dolls) dotted the crowds like landmarks, and the colors- oh gosh, the colors of costume clad partiers competed for attention against the already colorful city. The energy was undeniable and nobody couldn't not dance or stomp around. We wormed our way to the Quatro Cantos Pousada and past the ginormous security guards and into the shady oasis. From the patio above we watched the mayhem and settled in for a day of raucous behavior. 

I loved every minute of it. Traveling bands passed through the streets which meant so the noise and crowds would ebb and flow too. We had our own live music and again- everyone knew every single samba song and every single word. As our afternoon wound down we said our goodbyes and ventured out into the twilight against the never ending flow of people. At the party in Recife we caught a cab early enough in the game that we didn't wait at all. This time however, we weren't so lucky. Or maybe we were, because after 90 minutes of trying to hail a cab, Mark ended up doling out some cash to an "off-duty" taxi driver (he was clearly hanging out for people like us willing to pay double) to get us home- totally worth it for everyone involved. 

Around 7:30pm we arrived to the back of our building where our magazine stand guy was hosting the second night of his street party. The dancing more or less continued but admittedly with less enthusiasm on my part. Tired and sore, I called it a night and promptly passed out from exhaustion. Now the question is, do I attempt to do this again today? Too early to tell, but I could totally see me rallying, maybe after a nap.

Mark Schlink, you literally MAKE my blog.
Thanks for the photos.

Late Birthday, Early Christmas with Ninhol

While I can't say when I started following Ninhol on Facebook and admiring his artistry, I can pinpoint it was between liking the pages of Steve Martin and Bored Panda. I was immediately drawn to the vibrant colors, striking against the black lines and not a single space of white. Most of his paintings are done this way in fact.  On one hand, it goes against what little I know about art, where white space is sometimes the most important aspect. On the other hand, like great art, his paintings remind me of people, places and moments I hold dear. For example, my mom used to read me the story Rain Makes Applesauce, a non-sensical story filled with odd-end imaginative figures like monkeys eating chimney smoke. Ninhol's art reminds me of this: pages filled with detail and character, being read in the security of my mom's lap. He also reminds me of my childhood (and adult) obsession of filling in my pictures with full, even color. I never did like drawing outside the lines: an early sign of anal retention, I'm sure. 

At any rate, I loved the art and announced to Mark we should track this guy down once we arrived to Brazil and eventually buy one of his works. He went ahead without me and commissioned a piece for my birthday and Christmas gift. That was in September. By December, the artwork was completed and shipped to our home. Mark was so excited to give it to me, he didn't bother wrapping it. He proudly showed me the art in the kitchen while I was elbow deep in dishwater.

I stared at it: a familiar scene of two children and a woman, surrounded by daisies. Mark sent Ninhol a picture of us in similar form for him to work with, and the results were simply beautiful. My only disappointment was Mark's declination to be in the painting. He explained to me this was because he wanted me to pretend he was the photographer/painter- seeing his family as he sees us everyday. That man really does have a romantic side. I routinely look at the picture when I am chasing the kids with the vacuum, wiping up thrown spilled food, reading Richard Scarry books for the millionth time, or the rare moment of stillness in my house... it fits right into my life. 

Doting on my children, in art and in real life.
They've got me trained.
And no, my hair never looks this good.

A little bit about the artist- he's an expert of Pernambuco art and context. (Pernambuco being one of the 26 states of Brazil and is where we live.) If my research is correct Ninhol is from Olinda, a city with a phenomenal cultural reputation (especially known for Carnaval), representing northeast Brazil. Having a knack for bright colors, expressive scenes and historical context, he drew attention across the country with images of stacked apartments and homes, scenes of local neighborhoods, religious icons, dancers, and lovers. He's done artwork found Antarctica beer cans, a Brazilian beer brand (owned by Anheuser-InBev) and more than once has been sought after, create anything from Moleskine sized paintings to murals. Ninhol has a pretty good gig going.

To celebrate the New Year and his Facebook-following reaching 1500, Ninhol announced a raffle to receive a painting. It's a gorgeous painting of a woman and child, filled to the brim with, well everything... so until January 15, 2015, fans of his art can do the following steps to enter: 1. Like his FB page and, 2. Like and share the contest post (from December 31, 2014) to spread the word. So easy- and who knows? A little Brazilian artwork is always fun!

Now part of the permanent Schlink collection.

First Peek Olinda

View from Praca Da Se
121 feet above sea level

Whenever I chat with Recife locals, they always ask me the same questions: 1. How do you like living in Recife? 2. Have you been to Olinda? and 3. Why haven't you visited Olinda yet? They have a lot of admiration for the city, always quick to point out its spectacular ocean views, museums, art galleries, and historical churches. Deciding to ameliorate my guilt, we hopped into a taxi to check out the would-be capital of Pernambuco- had a war between Recife merchants and Olinda sugar financiers not broken out in the early 1700s. At the time sugar, a commodity once king of the Brazilian exports, suffered when West Indies competition blew them out of the water, stagnating Olinda's cash flow to the point of crisis. The growing economic and political differences between the two cities grew, along with piles of Olinda debt and dwindling Dutch power meant something had to give, resulting in war: the Guerra dos Mascates. In the end, Recife took over as the capital. 

I realized as we neared the hilly city (a whopping 6km from Recife) that I was in for a treat. Mark and I would get to hike up the cobble stoned roads to reach the top. I love an integrated workout/touring day- it makes the beer taste so much better. However, our cabbie wasn't inclined to listen and nearly killing his transmission along the way, drove up the steep hill in first gear. We hopped out and began to wander. Basically, everything was closed save for a few snack carts. Like we suspected, turns out most exhibits are closed on Mondays. On one hand, that was disappointing- I'd hoped Lonely Planet was wrong so I could visit the contemporary art museums and see about scratching the last few items off the Christmas list. On the other hand, we admired Olinda's colonial churches; many of which were built in the 1500s. We enjoyed the beautiful tropical landscape, the vivid graffiti and brightly painted walls that lined the winding streets. We laughed at American tourist group making hopeful comments that the pending rainstorm would alleviate the sticky heat. By this time at 10:30am, I already soaked through my clothes, leaving sweaty butt marks wherever I sat. I wondered what these folks would think when summer really arrives. I'm told when it does, the trade winds often dissipate leaving nothing but stagnant, chest heaving heat. Sounds amazing.

At any rate, we worked up an appetite and decided on one of the few open restaurants: a Pizzaria/Creperia knowing full well, no restaurant ever makes pizza midday. I mortified my husband by ordering fried cod balls, known as bacalhau. I think he barely held down his carrot-chicken-crepe as he watched me drown my delicious cod balls in vinegar, lemon juice and pepper. For someone who routinely avoids eating pickles just because her husband hates the smell of vinegar, I deserved this free pass since it was my birthday after all. Burning off lunch we hiked back up the hill for a second pass. We saw many signs in windows advertising for rental space specifically for Carnival. It's prime real estate and with little surprise- the stretches of road are barely wide enough for two cars and the sidewalks are broken, sometimes non-existent. A rental right in the heart of millions of people dancing shoulder to shoulder in the streets is the perfect way to enjoy what all the locals say is total madness, joy and celebration. Mark thinks I could hang with the crowds. In theory I love the idea it all, but let's be honest- I'm a bigger chicken than the 88.5" (27m) chicken that roams the Pernambuco streets for Carnival every year, aka O Galo Da Madrugada. I guess time will tell. 

Igreja da Conceição

Igreja da Misericordia

Background: Igreja de Sé

Igreja do Carmo

View of Recife

Igreja do Amparo

Praia de Sao Francisco

Top 10 of Samba Recife

Double your pleasure. Well... they actually had three stages

Two days, thirty bands, and God-knows-how-many cans of Schin Pilsner beer played part in one of Brazil's largest Samba Festivals. I dusted off my Danskos and jeans for a high class, sophisticated evening and checked it out for myself this weekend. The spectacle was exactly as they headlined it- their 10th year would be bigger than ever, calling for more dancing, singing, and sass. So I did just that and more- until the wee hours of 9:45pm. Because well, I'm 90. Here is why next time you are in Brazil, you should go to a Samba Festival:

10. Snacks in sacks abound! You can buy sacks of nuts. Or maybe a sack of quail eggs for quick energy.

9. Giant waist high beverage coolers all within five paces of anywhere. Need a sugar lime vodka drink? Schin beer? Juice? Don't mind if I do.

Ignore the Schin trash and focus on the Schin cooler.

8. Schin balls floating around everywhere. Fun to see and more fun to say. They even had orange Schin can characters looming the stage accompanied by orange clad Schin girls tossing out Schin t-shirts. Or bags of peanuts. I couldn't really tell. I was pretty far away.

Fascinating advertising- in fact most politicians for the upcoming election
have their faces all over balloons like these. 

7. Forget expansive band shirts, go for the glittery hot pink fedora instead. I really wanted to buy one. I should've.

6. Freshly made potato chips in a glass container big enough to take a bath in. 

5. You can dance all you want! Elbows and thumbs out and no one cares. 

4. Seriously. Everyone already dances better than you. Just own it. There's no reason not to. The tell tale triple step, booty shaking samba moves were almost in unison amongst the thousands of concert goers.

3. Double stages. Double. Fused to together with a red carpet runway enviable of Fashion Week. And 50,000 square meters of space.

2. Who cares if you have no idea what they are singing on stage! The infectious samba energy seeps into your bones. Plus loads of couples were making out- next to me, behind me, on the giant screens. That certainly meant the lyrics were awesome.

1. From dreadlocked heart-wrenching soloists, to skinny jeaned boy-band heartthrobs, to bigger than life guayabera'd samba kings, the variety of talent entertained the crowd all night long. It was inspiring and energizing to be small part of a bigger musical picture. I look forward to next year- only next time I might need a few extra shots of espresso and a few extra dance lessons. 

Hot fresh eggs and nuts.