The Most Amazing Event on the Planet

One night in which all fantasies become reality.

This reality is revealed in the spectacular Sambodromo event, which takes place in the heart of the city.

The sambodromo is a cacophony of colours, beating drums, otherworldy costumes and fantasical floats. For one night you feel part of something greater than yourself. I merged with the music, and felt waves of rhythm pulsating through my body for nine solid hours.

It is difficult to do last night´s event a descriptive justice. A part of me feels that you have to ´see it to feel it´. It is not so much about seeing, but about feeling.
The Brazilians have perfected this art of living. They understand what it means to be connected to music, to life, to the rhythm of your soul. They understand that there is something profound about being connected to  100 000 other people, all singing and dancing and celebrating. Brazilians know how to celebrate life.

They understand something at a very fundamental level which Western culture has lost touch with. If only we could escape the microcosm of our superficial existance and look to live outside of ourselves. I´m digressing from the spectacular...

The Sambodromo started at 9pm last night and when the last school came through I was schocked to see it was 6.30am. There were seven schools in total, each school consisting of between 4000-6000 participants. Each school has between 6-8 massive (think multiple storey-high) floats, which is the ultimate expression of fantasy and creativety. The floats and costumes epitomise the school´s history, as well the theme chosen for the year.

FAST FACTS:

No of spectators: 88 500

No of particpants per school: 4000 - 6000

Length of parade street (Avenida Marques de Sapucai): 700m

Cost per costume: R$300-800 [1US$ = 2R$]

The long street along which they parade is over 700m in length. Infront of each float there are pockets of brightly coloured costumes, each a different entity, creature or fantasy, and each pocket of costumes more breathtaking than the next.

These ´pockets´ of colour are interspersed with gigantic floats, upon which dozens of samba dancers strutt their fabulousness. Each float an expression of creative genius.

To give a small example, one float consisted of a four storey high godzilla, moving its head, eyes and mouth. Inside it´s opening&closing hand there was a samba woman dancing. Another float had amazonian like creatures - moving to the beat. Birds flying, eggs hatching, unicorns galloping. Each part of the float was alive & breathing. This was exacerbated by the samba dancers costumed out to the max, moving their hips to the sway of the samba beat.

The arrival of each samba school was announced by a magnificent display of fireworks - meaning there were seven of in total (to represent the seven schools). One stand alone fireworks display would have put PE´s Opening of the Season to shame (to put it into perspective).

Every school had their own song, and a new one is created each year. This is the soul representation of the school and the crowd sings along to the nursery sounding lyrics, which are basic enough to learn (even by foreign standards).

The samba band marches along behind the procession, playing, dancing and singing for the entire procedure. When the procession comes to an end, the music takes on a last fever-pitched exit call.
Each school takes about an hour to march through the parade street and before Mark and I knew it, it was 6.30. Since it has been raining non-stop since arrival, the Sambodromo had to have its own two hour melt-down. The heavens opened up and we headed into the stadium slums, where we spared being soaked.

There was one tradegy to the evening. Our stand was right at the end of the parade, and as such we got to see the costume carnage that ensued. After each school finished their performance, the costumes were simply piled into orange dumpsters. Mark said that the costumes could atleast be auctioned off on E-Bay - that way solving many a fancy-dress dilemma. But alas no, into the dumpsters they went :-(

Morning dawned too quickly, and after the event we made our way to the underground in the heart of the city. From the stadium you could see the favellas (slums) lining the horizon and walking back we were met by another stark, contrasting reality. Beggars sleeping along the road, in their droves.
Rio is a city of contrasts. Poverty is not mutually exclusive from wealth. Fulfillment not from desperation. But somehow this city makes it work and I think the reason for this is because its people never forgot how to live.