Reflections of a "Gringa Passista"

Hi gang.


I started writing this to you a right after the PARADE OF MY LIFETIME. But then life got in the way, Rio de Janeiro turned CRAZY in anticipation of the World Cup, and so it's only now that I'm sharing this with you. On my last night in Rio*.

On THE NIGHT! photo courtesy of Emily Ainsworth

Arriving here back in October, my mission was clear - to live the life of a Passista (samba dancer). If I didn't get in to parade with a samba school from the Grupo Especial (Special Group), I would at least go to their rehearsals and try to improve to increase my chances of one day being accepted. My ambitions were lofty, but the stars aligned and Unidos da Vila Isabel (my first choice) accepted me, and I started to live and love it. In fact, it's a Saturday night, two and a half months have passed, and I'm still getting my head around the fact that I don't need to start gathering my Show Things together for another night of sambão at the Vila Isabel quadra.

I know what you all want to know: how was the parade? How was it? You started learning samba when you were 19 and 10 years later you're parading with a samba school in the SPECIAL GROUP in Rio de Janeiro's SAMBADROME! Was it amazing? Was it? WAS IT???


In a word... No.

But, would I do it all over again?
In a freakin heartbeat.

Wait, wut?

OK, well let me rewind a bit.

As I mentioned before, the post-Christmas rehearsals at Vila Isabel had become very intense. The twice-weekly street rehearsals, regularly heaving with spectators now involved a pre and post-parade meeting with the Director, Edson. He would threaten the more experienced passistas with being thrown out just as easily as the newer ones, and regularly mixed up the positions we paraded in so that those in the first and last (ie, the most important) lines couldn't always rely on their place being secure. This was met with some resistance but nevertheless it worked as a means to keep us all on our toes.
If we didn't perform, we weren't going to parade.

The quadra itself was also now far busier. Our Saturday shows started to be attended by more and more celebrities (many of whom I had no idea about) including Sabrina Sato, the Rainha da Bateria (the queen of the drummers) and Spike Lee who re-appeared and, much to my amazement, recognised me from last year!

It also appeared that we started attracting different film crews each week. One such memorable moment came one Saturday in February when we had just finished the first set of pagode and had run backstage for water, when Edson called us out because we were to be the backdrop for him in an interview with MTV. So there we all were, standing sideways on, beaming brightly in our blue, white, silver and gold while he's being interviewed by this energetic blonde presenter. Suddenly out of the blue I hear him say "And we have a Londener! A Carnaval Queen from London!" (Well, what he actually said was "Temos uma Londrinha! A Rainha do Carnaval de la!" if you're asking) The next thing I know, Blondie is pulling me out from the lineup and the cameraman is panning from my feet, up past my dress and focussing in terrifyingly closely on my face. Over her shoulder, Edson is beaming at me, shouting "SAY NICE THINGS ABOUT US" with his eyes...

"What's your name?" says Blondie.
"Karla" says I.
"And what's your name in Portuguese?" says Blondie.
"Umm, Karla?" says I.

Laughter.

"So you're from London - what are you doing here?" quizzes Blondie.
"Well, it was a dream of mine to be a passista here in Rio with Vila Isabel, so I thought I'd come over and try!" I replied.

"So, show us how they samba in London then!" demands Blondie.

Eyes on me as I try to show off my samba no pe to the irritatingly slow pagode playing outside. I smiled my biggest smile and moved my hips as the girls had taught me until the music stopped.

"OBRIGADA KARLA!" shouts Blondie, and in a whirl of blonde hair flits away to interview Nina, one of the longest standing Vila passistas.

Later on, I discovered that even after 3 months of rehearsals, many of the other passistas only realised at this point that I was foreign. Excellent.

A week later, another camera crew. Some of us were enjoying the pagode band's extensive repertoire between shows, when I heard a "get that girl too" and turned to see a camera shoved in my face while I danced, smiled and tried not to fall over. I have as yet been unable to find the footage of these glamorous appearances, but rest assured I shall be sharing them as soon as they have been located.

So that was the state of the rehearsals, full, frantic and amazing. Each one more exhilarating. Singing and dancing with these people - who had become my teachers and my friends - for an hour and 10minutes three times a week.  I sang the lyrics "E o sangue azul tá na veia com certeza / O samba é a minha natureza" (And the blue blood is in my veins for sure / samba is my nature) - and by this point, I really meant it.

*   *   *   *   *

In the 4 weekends running up to Carnaval, each school gets the opportunity to practice their full parade in the Sambadrome to check for timing etc. Of course they don't have the official costumes or the floats, but instead, parade in official Ensaio Tecnico (Technical Rehearsal) get up. The Passista outfit was a blue Baiana inspired costume which we all initially thought kinda hideous, but on that Sunday, the day of the technical rehearsal (also the day they test the light and sound - an advantage allotted to the previous years' winners), when we were all lined up it looked AMAZING.

SO EXCITED!!

As always, the wait was long. Before the final school rehearses, it is tradition for the Baianas from all of the samba schools in Rio to perform a 'lavagm da Avenida' ceremony ('washing of the Avenue') where they all process down the parade, cleansing it of bad spirits - which was nice, but took FOREVER! And during this time, Edson was growing more and more nervous. Lining us up, walking around, shouting when he came back and realised that people were posing for photos. He told us there was not going to be any choreography, but then he'd change his mind and tell us yes there would be. Finally, we decided on a code. He would wave his trusty Vila mini towel in the air if we WERE to do the choreography and that's how we'd play it. Yup, he was nervous.

After a lifetime of waiting, we heard puxador shout "ALO VILA ISABEL! ALO SAPUCAI! A HORA E ESSSAAA!" and we knew it was time. We all exchanged glances, smiles and winks. The bateria starts and the cavaquino cries out the song we've been warming up to all year.

"Eu sou da Vila/Não tem jeito/Comigo eu quero respeito/Que meu negoçio é sambar"

One of my friends nipped over to me and said "Just have fun and don't cry ok! It's just the rehearsal!"
But what a rehearsal! The passista group is near the back of the parade and usually lead the bateria out of the cove from where they play for the first two-thirds of the school. This meant that we had some time to practice steps, adjust ourselves and get into the rhythm before rounding the corner and facing the full stadium of supporters, sound and samba!

The ensaio tecnico was AMAZING, you guys! Aside from the stress of keeping the line straight, especially with one particular young passista (whose family we think paid someone for her to participate) who did not know how to follow the rest of us, I danced my socks off and just had fun.

With my two favourites: Thais and Yanick after rehearsal

With the one and only Edson

With Jo, Eva, Asia and Lori after the Ensaio Tecnico!

*   *   *   *   *   

After the Technical Rehearsal happened, everything seemed to speed up from there. Our rehearsals in the quadra were more full than ever – I felt the school swell in size each time. Passistas would appear out of nowhere to the delight of some and the chagrin of the others. Also,

as I mentioned, famous faces started to show up at the quadra on the regs. As well as these famous faces, familiar faces also began to show up and fill me with the most enormous amount of confidence and pride.

LSS Rainhas in Vila Isabel!
Myself and Orquidea in the quadra, moments before she impressed everyone by outdancing and entrancing some of our male passistas...!

Representing for Polish sambistas - 2014 LSS Rainha Jo, and the Amazing Asia blowing people's minds...

Asia, Orquidea, Jo, Miguel, Little John, Lili and Marta – you guys smacked it! I was also delighted by a lucky sparkly Vila blue top with a message of love from my friend Tammy on behalf of Paraiso school of Samba. For those who don't know, Paraiso School of Samba and the London School of Samba are the two main samba schools in London, and therefore people like to labour under the illusion of massive competition between the two, formerly united schools. Tammy's gift proved to me that we are all still united by the love of samba, and I felt compelled to dance even harder in the name of all of my London-based passista sistas who are yet to come to Rio and show that we have the ginga too.

In my Lucky Blue top - thanks Tammy!!
photo courtesy of Emily Ainsworth

A couple of weeks before the parade, my journalist friend, Jean-Pierre, decided that my story would be an interesting one to write up and submit to a media outlet in the UK and/or Canada (where he's from). Around the same time, a lady named Emily Ainsworth from National Geographic appeared in the quadra to take photos, and on discovering my Englishness, also decided that she would pitch my story to the Daily Telegraph for whom she also worked. Lots of photos were taken and videos were made. Alas, in both cases other news proved more important (pfft), but at least I have proof now that it all really happened.

*   *   *   *   * 

Shaking what my mama gave me.
photo by Emily Ainsworth

The last Saturday show at the quadra was incredible and oh so full of energy, but our final Wednesday rehearsal was just plain emotional.
Everyone showed up ready and raring to dance their hearts out. I didn't realise that in the last rehearsal you are to wear the costume from the ensaio tecnico but when I got there it turned out I wasn't the only one. I wore my lucky blue Vila top and it felt really poignant even though it meant that I, along with some other forgetful passistas, were to dance in a separate group. That made sense to me. Although I was definitely a passista and I felt like a passista, there really is no accounting for what being raised in a culture gives you, that just learning it doesn't. My style of dress, the way I did my make up and my hair- I was always different. The thing I loved about Vila though, was that I was accepted anyway because they saw beyond the Gringa-ness. I was just the goofy-passista.

Just before we all went out altogether for the last time, Edson gave a mammoth pep talk. Told us to enjoy it, to feel it all and sing out hearts out, ready for the Monday. At the end of his talk, all 50 of us exchanged long looks, sad smiles and we all put our hands into the middle and shouted together “UM! DOIS! TRES! VILA!!!”

*   *   *   *   *   

I had attached some long extenstions (yes, my Natural Sistas, I'm back in braids – sorry! It was just easier) made sure I did my nails all nice, and spent that weekend waiting and ready to collect my mystery passista costume. Noone had seen it and noone knew what it was to be. Also, as it turned out, noone knew when we were supposed to collect it.
Friday - I frantically wrote messages to everyone on facebook and sent texts.
Silence.
Saturday - I frantically wrote messages to everyone on facebook and sent texts.
Silence.
Sunday - I frantically wrote messages to everyone on facebook and sent texts.
Silence.

Until...

*   *   *   *   *   

Monday, 3^rd March - the day of Vila Isabel's Carnaval parade.

A message appears on facebook. “The costumes are ready for you to collect from the City of Samba.”

(I found out from my samba godfather Richard later on that sometimes people aren't given costumes if it has been decided that they're not meant to parade. He'd been afraid that they'd cut me out at the last minute. "It's happened before..." - he told me after the parade. "Luckily not to you though. They must have thought you were ok." Thanks, Richard.)

At 14:00 I went to the City of Samba - a large space full of warehouses where each of the Special Group Samba Schools put the finishing touches to their floats and costumes etc -  to collect my costume. There were queues of people all around, waiting to pick up theirs. Kelly, the muse of the Passistas, helped me gather my costume, check I had all the components and that I knew where everything was to go. There were other passistas there too, all having lunch like it was any other day. The laid back attitude I could never get used to.

The parade was at 23:00 and we were to be there by 21:00 so I didn't stick around with the others, instead I rushed home to discover that my shoes too big, my bikini top did not fit (it was in fact a rather odd boob flattening tube top shape despite being made from one of my own bras!! - not at all possible for an ample chested samba dancer), not to mention that the bikini bottoms had no fastenings whatsoever. Needless to say, all my amateur sewing/knowledge of effective safety pinning skills all came into play all of a sudden and all at once.

Before I knew it, it was time to leave and I left the house with my boyfriend in tow as a kind of human walking wardrobe (poor boy learned what a backpack, headpiece, and sleeves/leg pieces all meant that night). We took the bus (with other costumed folk) to the Central station from which point had to walk a little way to the meeting point. We walked past the floats of Unidos da Tijuca and União da Ilha, and we watched as Mocidade Independente de Padre Miguel turned onto the avenue. So grand and beautiful and elaborate, I kept getting rushes of nerves, anxiety and incredible impostor syndrome. How did I get here? How am I part of this?!!

Myself and the Man in the costume he helped me put on

We eventually found the passistas amongst the other costumed sambistas, and Joel helped me strap on my elaborate wings and headpiece. While I was busying myself with other general costume negotiating, I heard my name and turned to see MORE FRIENDS in the shape of the beautiful Cintia and LSS Queen Jo, who didn't have tickets to the show but had come to find me and wish me luck (and help me find material to attach my too-big-shoes to my feet!)

Dressed and ready to go, I sent Joel off into the stadium to watch the rest of the parades and turned to the Passistas for what we knew would be our final and most important parade of the samba season. The big day was here!!!

Before the parade:
My muse, Yanick - full of energy, all the time, always, chatting making jokes and she knows. how. to. SAMBA!!

What happened next was a weird confusing blur.
Firstly, we couldn't find where we were supposed to be. Passistas were fast walking inbetween groups, appearing behind and in front of floats, seemingly at random until finally someone spotted Edson.
Secondly, when we did find him, Edson was speaking worriedly to a man in front of a carro alegorico (a themed float). There weren't enough people in costume to fill the float, so please would some passistas go up on the float to make it look full?

We should have realised then that that was a sign of doom. There was some slight panic as some passistas got on the carro whilst others, myself included, stood their ground on the ground. There was some push and pull as people negotiated what's , although as a result of this and uneven numbers, I ended up in a parade position that I was not used to. The penultimate row on the side of the judges...!!!

However there was no time to think. We moved forward, Edson shouts his last words of encouragement and the bateria starts playing. The crowd is cheering and our hearts start to beat faster. The song starts playing, the drums are beating, the fireworks go off...and we don't move. I forgot. Passistas are always near the back so we move at a snails pace forward, forward until we are on the avenue.

Eventually the time comes. "This is it!" I tell myself! But as we go around the corner I realise that the number is my line is not even and so I hold my place to keep a straight line. One of the older passistas, Gleice, pushes me from behind, yelling at me to pay attention. I tell her, I am paying attention but she's not listening to me. And suddenly we're on the avenue with her still pushing me and me holding my space...and that push-pull goes for the entire parade. Sad face.

Unfortunately I am on the side of the judges, and the journalists I've seen throughout the weeks all show up so I smile despite the pushing and stress trying to keep the line and now my shoes are slipping off my feet but I am a professional so I continue to smile. But I am not happy and my heart is not in it.

After what feels like 20 minutes, but is actually closer to an hour, it is all over.
6 months and it's all over. I'm tired, confused, bruised and dissatisfied, but at the gate I see my friends Asia and Eva's smiling faces and I'm glad I did it.

Later when I go up into the stands to watch the rest of the parade and receive a hero's welcome from my friends, I just feel pride and support. We watched Portela (who deserved to win) and the energetic Unidos da Tijuca (who actually won) and I remember why I love Carnaval. It's the opportunity you get once a year to escape into decadent hedonism with your mates and just have fun. What's all the worrying for eh?

*   *   *   *   *

Vila Isabel came 10^th out of 12 schools competing in the competition this year, which was very disappointing for a school as it had been the Champion of the year before. This resulted in protests outside of the quadra on the evening of the results, and an eventual presidential overhaul for the samba school (for the better).

For me, the parade itself was a disappointment, but oh! Those months leading up to it... I learned how to BE a passista. The importance of comportment and cardio capability! All those Saturday night Sambas and all the sweat and the smiling and the girls and the passistas and the glamour and the freedom and unity of just dancing your heart out week after week...THAT was an experience I will treasure forever, and an experience I fear, I am doomed to repeat again and again and again and again...

You can watch the full parade below including special attention paid to the lack of costumes :-/ (ala passista around 50:00 mins in)



Ai, que saudades...

Karla x


*I started writing this well before it was published here. I hope you all still enjoy it despite the World Cup being on to distract you all!!!