The Chronicles of a “Gringa” Passista ptII

Vila Isabel in the Sambadrome from 2012

Guys, I am exhausted.

These past couple of weeks, I have mostly been not sleeping.

I am teaching English here in Rio, which I enjoy very much, but irregular working hours to coincide with students' regular working hours means lots of travelling, useless hours missing from my day and very little time for effective daytime napping.

But mostly to blame is samba. Carnaval is soon approaching and boy don't we know it. Before Christmas, rehearsals were Wednesday and Saturdays. Now there has now been a Sunday rehearsal added into the mix. Last week, Tuesday evening was for rehearsing in Sapucai, aka the Sambadrome aka the passarela (catwalk). The hallowed Avenida that sambistas sing about all year round in the run up to this one time of year they are able to show the world what they've got. They are able to be whoever they want to be. The Avenida is where dreams are made, and in my case, come true.

Edson, the Director of the Passistas 

So one Sunday after a street rehearsal (my favourite kind), the Director Edson (left) told us all we needed to be at the Sambadrome at 19:00 in our blue and white to practice with the bateria (drumsssss). I don't know if you know, but dancing with a bateria is maybe one of my favourite things to do in the whole world. And I was about to practice with this school I loved, on the same ground I've seen from the stands and on YouTube and on pirate Carnaval DVDs. And when I stepped onto it in my heels, I felt overcome with emotion and pride.

Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me talk you through the evening so you'll be prepared for when you yourself next infiltrate a Carioca samba school.

I arrived my trademark 20minutes late. I had speedwalked past crackeiros and perverts to get myself to the Sambadrome and was warmly greeted by the other passistas. Despite the fact that some still aren't sure of my name or where exactly it is I hail from, these women are for the most part, very kind and receptive and growing more so. The more established dancers are the nicest, and aside from 2 women, I'm pretty happy with my relationship with the group. It kinda reminds me of my samba sisters in London. Women are just women. Sharing make up, admiring each others shoes, securing each others' hair/costumes/boobs etc...

Me and me gyaldem
(l-r:) Clarisse, Monique, Bruna, Chayene, yours truly, Thais, Marcella and lovely Yanick imported from Mocidade.
Photo by Jorge Luiz Lavrador

ANYway... we all stood around and watched as G.R.E.S. Imperatriz Leopoldinense rehearsed partway down the avenida. Further down, São Clemente were finishing their rehearsal and the comissão de frente (opening wing) of Acadêmicos Do Salgueiro were practising over and over. At the top were the Baianas of Vila Isabel – the older women of the community who come out year after year to defend their school – practising their turns and belting out the lyrics. (Ai ai – the lyrics!! Very important to be seen to be singing, even if you just chew gum and pretend.)

After about an hour of hanging around, talking to friends from other schools and such, we were summoned by Edson to head down to the far end of the sambadrome. The bit with the arches, for those who know. There we waltzed past the bateria of Salgueiro who were warming up (with their killer theme song) to a little area at the very end of the route. Once there, Edson put us into position. One by one, he called us into our rows, 6 people across to fit the width of the avenue. He told us to look at who was to our left, right, behind and in front of us as this was going to be our position for the parade! I was placed right in the middle which I'm yet to work out whether is a good or a bad thing... 

Salgueiro practised their enredo for the complete 80 minutes the parade allows, the whole time moving around a corner into a cove. This was to practise for the parade where the bateria, which starts at the front of the parade, moves into a cove near the beginning of the avenue in order to play for the other wings as they file past. Once in the cove, each element of the bateria - which can be up to 300 drummers - needs to file, in order, from the back to the front so that they end up in the position as before; cuicas, agogos and chocalhos near the front, tamborims, caixas and repiques in the middle and surdos at the back.

So they practised and practised and practised. And we stood and watched and waited. Luckily, we all love their enredo so we weren't too aggravated by the wait; but by the time they finished and we were allowed to take our places to practise, it was 23:30. Yes, fact fans, we had been waiting a grand total of 2.5 hours (well, 2 hours and 10 minutes for me). But I've come to learn that the life of a sambista involves a lot of waiting. You just have to love it.

Finally, Edson shouted "Vamu la gente!" and off we tottered onto the avenida. 

And when I stepped onto it in my heels, I felt overcome with emotion and pride.

I had been placed in between some of the passistas I got on with the best and so couldn't help but beam at them. When I received a huge smile back, I realised that the pride and pleasure wasn't just mine. They all felt the same way as me. It is a pleasure and an honour to samba for your school and we were all going to provide the moving visual for audiences who have come from far and wide to watch you in The Greatest Show On Earth.  #excited.

After a little while, the bateria started playing from behind us. It felt like an ensaio da rua but way more intense. Instead of an uneven road beneath us, there was the trademark white smooth ground of the passarela. Various members of the harmonia were stationed in amongst us to make sure we were singing, smiling and moving the whole time. No walking, no accidental frowning, and absolutely, under no circumstances must anyone stop singing.

So we sang and we samba'd our socks off, trying to work out the intricacies of leading the bateria round a corner into a cove and then filing from the back to the front as they are expected to do. A lot easier for us than them, lugging drums along with them...


And then suddenly it was over. The crowd of bystanders/samba geeks (John and Richard) who had stayed after Salgueiro applauded and we ran to get water and take our damned heels off. I looked around the stands and thought to myself that the next time I'm standing in that same point will be for the Ensaio Tecnico - the technical rehearsal. The lights will be on and the sound will be amped - a prize advantage given to the previous years' champions to have a proper dry run. The stands will be full of Vila supporters and sambaphiles from all over the world, just like I have been in previous years.

Photo from a recent street rehearsal - courtesy of Jorge Luiz Lavrador

And I cannot bloody wait.