Firstly, let’s discuss the reason why I’m here: dancing. Although zouk is a dance invented here, very few people seem to have heard of it. When I meet people and they ask why I’m here, they clearly are surprised that I have to come somewhere to learn to dance (here, dancing is like breathing - you just do it and don’t labour the point). Then I have to repeat the dance I’m learning several times and try to describe it for many of them as it is not as run of the mill as I would have believed prior to my arrival. Nevertheless, all that melts away when I walk up the steps of the Nucleo de Danca Renata Recanha where all those present not only dance zouk, they feel it. I am so thoroughly chuffed that I decided to come here to dance - zouk in Brazil is a whole other proposition than learning it in Australia. Back home, we learn steps, then we learn moves (or sequences of steps), then we learn technique, then eventually some may pick up a sense of rhythm (or, as often, not). Here, Renata teaches moves but the bulk of the class is spent dancing. Just dancing. It is not about the steps, it is about the dance. And I love it, love it, love it, love it. Just in case I wasn’t thrilled enough, I’ve also been learning (by default) a much more common Brazilian dance - Forro. Much simpler than zouk, it is lovely to dance and everyone seems to do it. From a club in Rio to a festival in Paraty, I have discovered that Forro is omnipresent and a universal method of having a good time. And it once again has been proven that a girl just needs a strong partner and everything works out all right. Hmmmm.....is there a greater life lesson in this statement.....? Let’s think about that.
Speaking of having a good time, this week has provided them in abundance. Dancing aside, I have also been touring and exploring some amazing sights in Rio and beyond. My brave undies are well and truly doing their job and I have stretched well beyond my comfort zone and plans to take up opportunities as they have arisen.
On Wednesday and Thursday, I joined the effervescent Rafa, along with Kiwis Dave, Bella (aptly named) and Sam (his Latin name is Tryus Anythingus Funasaurus). The story of how I met Rafa is short but worthy of telling. As he tells it, I picked him up in the street. While English is not his first language, he is cheeky enough that I do not believe he is oblivious to the double entendre. Nevertheless, he is technically correct. On my first day in Rio, I bravely wandered as far as the local shop as a means of forcing myself to get out of the apartment and face my fears of the city. Rafa was leading a walking tour and when I heard some English being spoken, I decided to throw caution to the wind and approach the strangers to find out how they came across their tour. Being gregarious and full of beans, Rafa was clearly the kind of tour guide I was looking for. So, a few emails later, he kindly invited me along to join Dave and his two kids for a two day tour of Rio and Niteroi. And what a tour it was! As well as seeing the obvious tourism musts (such as Christ the Redeemer and Sugarloaf), we also had the privilege of going to places only locals know about. It was a very full two days and between the excellent guide, great company and amazing sights, I could go on for more than two full days. I may well re-visit the topic later to provide more details but in the meantime, I know a good blog is a short blog. Two points worthy of attention - Christ the Redeemer is very impressive and Rio’s beaches are paradisaic. No argument from anyone else please - I’ve seen loads of beaches in my time and these ones win. Hands down and surf’s up.
Surf being up is a neat segue to my next adventure. Paraty (pronounced Para-chee) is a four and a half hour bus ride away from Rio along the stunning Costa Verde. A small coastal town, it is a very popular getaway for Cariocas and international tourists alike. It is so very charming, it almost seems like it belongs in a story rather than real life. It was a bit like coming across a gingerbread house - delightful in a slightly surreal way. I travelled there to meet up with my new found friends Alex, Jo, Jens and Thomas. As Jens explained the first day we met, when you’re travelling, friendships develop in fast-forward. You know you’re only in a place for a few days so in order to make friends, you just have to get on with it. And thus we did. Fortunately, we were in Paraty for the biggest festival of the year - the Festival of the Divine Holy Spirit. There was a lot of spirit that’s for sure. I’m not convinced any of it was holy and in my opinion, it doesn’t taste anywhere near divine but a good time was had by all nonetheless. Similar to Carnevale, this festival was ostensibly religious but, with no disrespect intended, I think it is just a good excuse for a 10 day party. People danced well into the night, making merry courtesy of their in-built joi de vivre and the many cachaca vendors, chopp stalls and bars. What a hoot!
The next day, Jens and Thomas departed for Sao Paulo while Alex, Jo and I took a boat cruise around the coast and islands. We lay on loungers up on deck, being waited on hand and foot while from below wafted soft sambas and soothing bossa novas from the lovely Brazilian lady singing to entertain us. And the view - wow. I can’t say much more than that. Just wow. Half way through the trip, the weather soured and we were forced below deck by cold wind and driving rain. Nevermind bad weather - where there’s a guitar, there will be singing and dancing. And so it came to be. Both Jo and I danced a few Forros and I also managed to be reminded of some Samba de Gafiera steps courtesy of a Dutchman whose name I didn’t catch. On a boat cruise in less than favourable conditions, a lesser nation may have called it a day and retired to the harbour. Not in Brazil - when the weather gods handed them lemons, they pulled out the tequila and salt and ramped up the party. I love the attitude of these people! And I love that they dance and sing at every opportunity. This my friends, is what life is all about.
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