rain began to pour down but the band played on.
Reaching up into the sky with palms skyward, we embraced
the cold drops thundering down, streams running through
our hair, dripping down our noses, around the curves of
our grinning mouths, and soaking what - if anything - remained
of our costumes. Our feet stomped wildly in ankle-deep puddles
in the cobblestone streets, and all around us, people shouted
at the top of their lungs "Eu quero Frevo!" (I
want Frevo music!).
A few kilometres away on a sailboat, hastily
left with a hatch wide open, a cabin began
to fill up with rainwater, soaking its interior, saturating
the bedding and destroying a book lying beside the pillow.
- albeit voluntarily - by thousands of wet bodies in all
directions, embracing, dancing, kissing and singing, I smiled
at the futility of worrying about it. One can only stomp
their feet, raise their arms and celebrate life with strangers
and friends alike and listen.. as the band played on.
We have come north to the eastern tip of Brazil for one
of the largest street parties in the world to dance to the
This is Carnaval in Recife, Brazil.
To explain about Recife's Carnaval, I'll just cut and paste
from the Associated Press: