Samba

Like French fries and ketchup or cookies and milk, Brazil and samba go hand in hand. Yes, you can enjoy the country without it, but the gyrating dance and snappy music add the extra spice that makes it all so delicious. And Brazilians make sure there is always plenty to go around. From the samba groups taking to the streets during Carnival to the elderly couples shaking their hips on a porch, the music and its lifestyle are everywhere. Yet if samba is the blood pumping through the city, the heart beating the way is in Lapa. This Rio barrio is the hangout for all the of the city's artists, musicians, dancers, partiers and all-around interesting characters, who fuse together to create a samba explosion almost every night of the week. It's a delicacy of the country I got to experience firsthand Friday when Ben and I decided to spend the weekend in the famed neighborhood.

With Lapa about an hour and a half away from Itaipu by bus, we decided to book a hostel to fully kick back and enjoy the night. Not only did the cheap stay give us a great home-base, but it also introduced us to some other fabulous gringos to enjoy the festivities with. We met Ericka from Phoenix and Annali and Terry from New Zealand while relaxing by the pool, and quickly made plans to spend the night hitting the streets together. As with every calm before the storm, the night started off quietly with pizza and beer at a downtown boteco (the inexpensive neighborhood bars you can find on nearly any corner in Brazil). After dinner we found ourselves at Lapa's Friday night street fair, filled with beer and meat vendors galore. By now the streets that were hushed only hours ago were raging with people of all ages, colors and styles. The roads were closed to cars, letting everyone meander, with drinks in hand, to surrounding bars or simply to others socializing in the street.

The street fair under the arches

It was outside the famed Boa Bar that we found our first samba experience. The corner bar had its ceiling-to-floor windows open all the way, where passersby could stop and enjoy the live music without paying to go inside. Being the budget travelers we are, we grabbed a spot within earshot of the band, bought a cheap bucket of ice and beer and were swept into the samba scene. Next to us, two girls in their 20s danced with a bald guy in his 50s. These odd pairs kept popping up all around. With samba, it doesn't seem to matter your age or creed -- but instead just how quickly you can move your hips and feet.

The music has a fast but steady tempo that people seem to try and hit note-for-note with their bodies. One foot taps forward and back around with the other quickly following suit. It almost looks like the dancer is trying to smooch an oncoming army of ants, but all with a rhythm that flows up swiveling hips to a smiling face.

After the band finished its set, our group left the bar to fill up on beer. There, under the city's famous white arches, we ran into an impromptu samba performance. It was just a few men and their drums, but the sounds lassoed a few hips into swinging right there in the street. That's when one of these dancing passersby, a short middle-aged Brazilian, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the mix. I didn't even have time to hand off my camera or beer before he was swirling me in circles and showing me how to move my feet. I tried my best to mimic his ever-changing moves. I've never had much coordination, so I can't imagine I was very good. But my dance partner didn't care, so I didn't either. Before I knew it, another gentleman came over to grab my hand and show off his samba swivel. Moments later a woman from the growing audience threw her husband her purse and sent her feet into a frenzy faster than any I'd seen that night. The music spread like an intoxicating cloud that soon had everyone literally dancing in the streets.

Above: Our samba guys just getting started.
Below: What their following grew to later that night.

We finally needed a break to cool down, and Ben, the gringas and I were pointed toward a side street we hadn't yet explored. Here we found a whole extension of the nightlife that seemed tucked away like a secret only the most locals of locals would know about. The narrow street had cobblestone under foot and strings of flags overhead. To our sides were shabby Victorian homes, colorful graffiti and street art. It was all lined with a market of vendors selling drinks, people playing music and everyone living life in the moment.


Weaving our way through the stream of partiers, we found a site I'd hoped to see during the day: the Escadaria Selaron. This steep staircase is a colorful mosaic work of art. But that night, all we could see were the faces of people decorating the steps all the way to the top. Our group found a perch on a tiered planter by the side of the staircase. We sat there for hours watching this crazy ocean of people flow below us. A steady beat of live samba was played from somewhere in the crowd the entire time. None of us could believe where we were at that moment in our lives. Not only did we find ourselves in Brazil, but among this scene we couldn't have imagined if we'd tried. It's nights like that that spark the dreams of travel in the first place.

Our perch on top of the world