Navigating language: Não means não

I love this place, and I love navigating a new city and culture. I remember how frustrating it was in Bordeaux trying to survive, find an apartment, make friends, all in another language. It felt the same here all over again:

Me: "ah que fofo"
Them: "como?"
Me: "fofu? fahfo? FOHfoh? Fawfu?"
Them: "Oh, you mean 'fofo.'"
Me: "what did I say?"

As soon as you realize that you can communicate enough to have food, shelter, safety, and a bathroom, the rest just becomes a game. Lucky for me I am an expert at Catch Phrase and Charades. The best was when the person spoke no English because I was forced to practice and they were forced to have patience with me. At the drugstore:

"Excuse me sir, do you speak English? No? Ok here we go. I am wearing shoes. My feet are hot. Sometimes my feet are wet. Can you please help me with my wet feet?"

He found me some foot powder.

At the rehearsal:

"it's like a little box and when you play, the box tells you if you need to adjust your instrument."

Someone found me a tuner.

Pantomiming a request for a straw at the bar later got a funnier reaction.

At most of the corner places, ordering a tasty coxinha or pão de queijo and juice was a treat but a challenge. They didn't want to play along as much and I think they upped their accents on purpose so I wouldn't understand. They have like ten different ways to ask "for here or to go" just to catch you off guard. "Pra levar? Pra comer? Pra viajar? Pra agora? Pra aqui? Pra ai?" Then you don't pay until after you eat but they won't remember what you had, so you have to stumble through your order again to the same blank stare. In the end you are drinking fresh squeezed guava juice so who cares?

Did you know as Sylvie pointed out that when the door says "empurrer" it means "push" which is fine. But when it says "puxe" pronounced "pooshy" it means pull? Gets me very time. And when speaking a mix of Portugese and English in a potential romantic situation don't forget that "nao" sounds like "now."

It feels somehow like the stakes aren't as high, like I wasn't as stressed about making a mistake as I was in France. One reason is that I find the Brazilians more willing to play along than the French but I also think I've changed a bit since then. Both times have been just as rewarding to unlock a culture through navigating its language. But I also remember how special it is to get to a place in the language where you can have conversations you treasure. My 83 year old cavaco player friend explained that the choro "Ginga do Mane" is about a famous futebol player and his moves. At the next rehearsal he had printed out the story for me. Love this place.

Chorinho = Little cry

My last night was a challenge and had me ending my trip the way it started, with some frustration and a few tears. Thanks to the suggestion of my Brazil Camp clarinet buddy Annie and help from Rebecca and Dennis I was able to get in touch with accomplished clarinetist Paulo Sergio Santos. He didn't have time for a lesson but invited me to the bar Semente in Lapa to see his son's group play choro and to join in.

All of the choro musicians I've encountered in Rio have been really good, but this was a different ball game. It wasn't a roda or an open group playing publicly, it was more of a concert in front of an attentive audience. These cats were pros and I was mesmerized. They weren't reading charts and were barely even looking at each other but somehow still communicating intensely. Paulo Sergio got up and wailed effortlessly on some tunes to the cheering crowd. Then it was my turn. I walked to the stage and set up my big gringo binder on a flimsy music sand and adjusted the mic which resulted in a bunch of feedback. They asked what few songs I wanted to play and my words came out in French. Well at least I know the French is still in there. I played with energy, was able to communicate little intros and outros, took turns, and played a couple of ok solos. But I didn't play cleanly or with enough confidence, and the more I tried to tear my face from the book and make eye contact, the more mistakes I made. I felt out of place and felt that I had embarrassed myself. Paulo Sergio took a risk inviting me to play not having heard me and I didn't want to let him down. I spent the rest of the evening doubting my abilities as a musician and questioning what I'm doing here.

Maybe it sounds like a dramatic reaction, but this was also at the end of my trip and height of my exhaustion. Near the end of the night I looked out the window right up into the Arcos da Lapa and reminded myself to get present again and remember where I am, in Rio listening to some incredible music. I don't need to have all the answers figured out yet. It's been a busy trip and I've jumped out of my comfort zone into a lot of great learning opportunities in a new language. I decided I need to pat myself on the back for putting myself out there with an open heart. And this evening was also a wake up call reminder of what I need to work on musically when I get home. The last song they played was 'Receita de Samba' and I got up and danced.

1,006 Choros

Before Carnaval I was invited to the home of one of the choro players I had met in Larangeiras. He has a weekly rehearsal with his group Choro na Veia (choro in the vein!) and invited me to join them. It was five men, mostly retired, two over 80 years old. They had beer and snacks and extra sheet music for me to read (and to transpose of course!)

The bandolim player was 88 which means he was born the decade when choro first became popular. He wore these high waisted shorts and announced every time a certain song demanded that he stand to play. I learned that he also writes his own choro music and just finished his 1,006th one. He corrected me that he doesn't write the melodies, he 'receives' them when he's on the bus or at home hearing the rhythm of high heeled shoes walk up the stairs. The guitarists write chords to the melodies. He has written a tune for each member of their group and they played them for me. I was invites to play 'Sapatos Altos' ('High Heel Shoes') and made it through despite his illegible penmanship. I asked if he would be willing to share one of his pieces to let me bring to my group in California and they liked the idea of an intercontinental exchange. One of the guitarists said he'd send me a readable electronic copy.

They picked a lot of tunes to play that I didn't know but were apparently very important to my choro education. A few played solo pieces for me to ear. Then they asked me to play an American tune. I realized I don't know too many! What do I play for my new Brazilian musician friends, 'Louie Louie'? Actually that might have been fun. But I remembered I had a copy of 'The Entertainer' in my binder and as soon as I began they all jumped in in perfect contrapuntal harmony.

I'm feeling so grateful for these special moments I've been fortunate to have. The older guitarist who hadn't spoken or smiled much all evening gave me a compliment at the end. At least I think it was a compliment. Many times here I just fill the blanks in my comprehension with something completely imagined. I asked him to repeat it slowly since it sounded important. He said "I would like to congratulate you. It takes courage to come to a foreign country alone and seek out musical opportunities like you did. It has been an honor to play with you." I'm pretty sure that's why he said. Or maybe it was, "yeah we only invited you because we thought you were cute." Either way, the honor was also mine.

Monogato

Like I was saying, nothing here happens according to plan, but that's the best part. Every little moment here has happened for a reason and has been part of a greater mysterious plan that always works out. I am learning to just let these moments happen. I'm not saying that if I just sat on my ass that would someone would give me a trip to Rio and make all of these opportunities happen. I'm putting in the work too and putting myself out there. I put the word out to Jacare that I was interested in taking drum lessons on my visit. He put me in touch with Nico who is the principal repique player for Sao Clemente. I had a great lesson with Nico who then invited me to play with his bloco which then opened up a whole other world here.

The bloco is called Monogato which Brazilians think is hilarious and I don't really get it. Is it because it sounds like 'one cat' or a play on 'Monobloco'? Anyway, my Portuguese comprehension got a partial bar name on a partial street name. Somehow ("it's a mystery!" -Shakespeare in Love) I found them. A bunch of Brazilian guys wearing tank tops that said 'Monogato' hanging outside a bar called 'Bar Gatao,' which turned out to be their namesake. None of these guys were drummers, just members of the bloco who drink beer and hang out. They directed me to the beach where I found Nico and met some of the drummers. There were a couple of Brazilians but the majority were German and French tourists! They've all been in Rio for a few weeks and have been playing with Nico. Erik plays in a samba school in Frankfurt. Entry from Turkey and Kylu from Poland both live in Germany and play samba in Berlin. The French were mostly from Tours and have a group there.

Of course all of my own cultures and languages would come together here in Rio through samba. Everyone spoke a mix of everything. I loved hearing the Germans speak to each other but they usually spoke English with me. The French went back and forth between English and Portuguese but mostly French with each other and with one of the Brazilians who lived in Switzerland. I opened my mouth to speak to them and I. couldn't. remember. any. of. my. French. Oh my god! I tried to just ask where they were from and it came out in Portuguese. I hope that is just a testament to how steeped in Portuguese I've been and how natural it's become. That French better still be in there somewhere though.

We all didn't need to speak much anyway because our common shared language was samba. All really good players. There were only a handful of us so Nico played something else and had me play the calls on repique. I took it as an honor but started to stress out (there it is again) about being the newcomer and not knowing their material. They had a couple guys playing Monogato's own enredo and they kept yelling at me for missing the breaks! But I was trying to get cues from Nico who seemed to be cuing me with eye contact behind his non see-through sunglasses. Again, finally one of those moments when I realized we were having fun and I should relax and enjoy this moment which also led to many other nice moments.

The Germans and I joined Nico with another bloco 'Meu Bem, volto ja!' (my dear, I'll be right back!) A lot of the blocos have funny names sometimes with sexual innuendos like 'It's small but it will grow.' I enjoyed spending more time with Emre and Kilo and dancing to live pagode in the street. We got to join Monogato again for a churrasco, visit Nico's family in the Chapeu Mangueira favela, and then joined Nico at Sao Clemente's post carnaval celebration. I enjoyed speaking to some of the drummers about their emotional experiences from the parade.

All this from telling Jacare I was looking for a lesson, and from him being willing to share a contact. I met up with Emre today to wish him a safe trip to Salvador and we will discuss our future international samba exchange!

Bangalafumenga!

What an honor to play with these drummers. I feel fortunate to know Dudu through Brazil Camp and we were lucky to have him come to San Diego to lead workshops. He and the other directors welcomed the few of us Americans and made us feel at home. The rehearsals are fun and well structured and productive. Sticks and straps all in organized containers, drums lined up in order, directors for each section with clear signals. Very impressive. Wicked rhythms. I did my research and studied up in advance, plus Dudu lead a repique sectional, but I still wish I could have had one more rehearsal, especially since I couldn't hear the singers during rehearsal. And then there was a parade!

It wasn't really a parade but a standing show. It was worlds different from parading with the Bambas do Catete which was a crazy (and fun) chaos in the street. The 100-piece Banga bateria was sectioned off by a cord from the 60,000 member crowd. 60,000! We couldn't see too far while playing but on our walk back we could see how far the masses really reached. Amazing energy from both the crowd and bateria kept growing exponentially. We had a bit of shade for a minute but soon the sun was overhead and blasting. That plus strong fumes from the trio electrico truck stage behind us made for an intense 2.5 hours.

Carl from Boulder was rocking some repique calls and a few of them did an awesome repique feature together. I made sure I could see Carl because there was so much material to remember and he had it down. I knew a good amount though and didn't step in any holes thank goodness. We pulled off the choreography that the Austin Samba School called the munchkin march in their carnaval this year. Every time we played a frevo the crowd exploded. Whenever there was a lost child the singer would announce it and say to the mom "your child is here, come to the stage but be calm and don't worry, he's in the house of Banga and he's with family waiting for you."

Water and beer were passed around the whole time even while we were playing. This group is serious players, but it is carnaval after all. My beer got kicked over after a minute and the poor guy next to me forgot he had a full one in his pocket when we crouched down. We need those beer holder drum straps!

At one point I looked around and saw the Cristo Redentor statue in the background. I have some sort of spiritual connection with that statue which reminds me of my love affair with the Eiffel Tower. In Paris the tower would peek out from behind buildings and remind me that I know I'll be back again. Here in Rio the statue reminds me to take a moment and remember where I am and to be present and grateful. What a nice moment to look around and realize that this for real! Thanks to Banga for letting me be a part of the wonderful projects they have going on.

Here's a great video with some footage, interviews of Dudu and Jacare, and a couple brief photos where you can see me for a sec!

Hot and Heavy

In an email Dennis Broughton said "have a good trip to Rio, things are getting hot and heavy down there." I figured I knew what he meant but I really had no idea.

Hot and heavy is the incredible heat even at 2am and the incredible weight of the air that clings to your clothes. It's the vendor carrying a grill with hot coals across the burning sand. It's the temperature generated by a crowd of thousands cramming in closer to hear the band. It's sitting in a slow moving car without AC as it wades past droves of singing revelers. It's standing like sardines in a way past capacity metro car. It's drumming and dancing for three hours in overhead sun in front of a truck emitting exhaust fumes. It's visiting a friend's home in a favela up the 165 steps they climb daily. It's standing next to the drummers at Portela's rehearsal in Madureira that first moment when the bateria fires up. It's dancing no matter how steamy the club and how much your feet sting.

It's been a hot and heavy trip!

Think Less Live More

I haven't quite found my rhythm here yet. Maybe it's because some nights I'm in bed at 11pm and some at 7am. My eating routine is erratic and a large part of my diet has consisted of fried (but yummy) street food. But that's how vacation works sometime, right? Even more noticeable than my scattered schedule is the fact that my brain has been constantly racing here. This trip has so many purposes for me, to hear great music, to play great music, to study with the pros, to find inspiration, to research future job opportunities, to find my life's meaning, to figure out where to go with my music. Inspiration now! No big deal for a three week trip, right? I'm Rio de Janeiro and I am stressed out. Something seems wrong with this picture.

I made two new friends, a Turkish guy and a Polish guy both from Germany. My Turkish friend Emre at one point said "you're a list person, aren't you?" and I asked him how he knew that about me. He replied "you mentioned that Rio is one of the cities on your list of places to live, and you talked about all the things on your list of what you want to accomplish on your visit." While I think it's a good thing that I am beginning to make clear what I want in my life, he brings up a good point that I am micromanaging myself a bit. And he saw that I am in Rio and I'm stressed.

So I am now reminding myself that I am in Rio and should take some advice from the Cariocas. I saw a local in Copacabana with a shirt that had in English "think less, live more." Life has a more relaxed pace here and people don't worry or over analyze things as much as I do. Sometimes people are on time, and sometimes they are late. But it doesn't matter, they just sit and have a beer in the sunshine while they wait and 'fica tranquilo.' In these blocos I've played with I've been stressed that I don't know the breaks or I made a mistake. No one cares. They are all talented musicians but they are drumming for the love of music, not to be perfect.

So the lesson here is to take more deep breaths, feel grateful for the opportunity to be here, think less, and enjoy the ride. Nothing here will go according to my plan and that's how these special moments happen. And when I use the 'ser' instead of 'estar,' the Brazilians know what I mean. When a drummer says "we'll meet somewhere at the end of Leme around lunchtime" I'll just hang out and drink a beer in Leme until I hear drums. It will work out somehow because it always does.

It's time for me to head to Leme and see what happens. I'll be meeting up with my new samba friends from Berlin which just happens to be one of the cities on my list.

Here's a photo of the body wash I picked up at a drugstore here. It makes me smile :)