This week I have been off of work for the first time since I got here. It has been really nice to sleep in, but mostly it was nice to stay in one city for more than four days at a time. I have been here in Manaus since last Friday, and will stay until Sunday when I go back to Itacoatiara.
Other than sleep, the main benefit of being in one place for so long is that I actually got to do some touristy things, and more importantly, began to gain an understanding of where things in relation to each other. I am the kind of person who needs to be spatially oriented, and I also really like understanding the history and culture of a place. Besides being type A and just liking that stuff generally, it’s also a big part of how I learn; I need to be able to see the big picture to understand and appreciate the finer points at close range. This week, I got the full perspective on geographic, cultural, historical, musical, and natural aspects of Manaus.
As I mentioned before, I had my first real taste of Brazilian dance music last weekend when I went to a Forró party (pronounced foh-HO). I’m going to have to give a bit of a background here, so bear with me. I heard forró music for the first time on my first night here, and I thought it sounded lively and upbeat for dancing, if a little repetitive. Maria asked me if I liked it, and I said sure, because it was my first night and of course I was going to say that, but she just laughed. This became a trend: anytime forró came up, the person would ask me if I liked it, then stare at me intently until I responded. They would then either tell me they hated it, or they would just laugh. So I was never sure if I was allowed to like forró, and the style of music isn’t something I am used to, so I decided to reserve my opinion until I’d seen some dancing action. I had also been warned by Paul (the Irishman) to beware the forró party, as they can seem tame enough at first with the vigourous dancing, but then you notice that the dance floor more closely resembles a porno and it’s not so innocent anymore. Of course this was both horrifying and fascinating, and I knew it was an aspect of the culture I had to see to…believe.
The International Gang had made plans to go out last weekend, and Albert in particular had requested we try out the forró. So against the better judgement and taste of Paul and Vinicius, and with a club recommendation from a teacher and self-proclaimed “forrozeira,” we headed out in search of this club. Now, everything in Manaus is far, even if it’s close. The roads are all twisty and full of boulevards and one ways, so it usually takes 20+ minutes to go anywhere. It takes about half an hour from my house to get to Ponta Negra, the really posh, beautiful area where all the good bars are. Well…we drove and drove, we got to Ponta Negra and passed the pre-drink gas station party lined with motorcycles, we passed through the well-lit streets, and we found ourselves on a road to the middle of nowhere. The boys always joke that, if Vinicius’s car runs out of gas, I have to get out and push (it’s frequently on empty) – but even the boys were hoping we didn’t break down along this road. Nevertheless, we didn’t break down, and we knew we were getting closer to our destination when traffic started picking up. And just after the speed bump the size of a raised boulevard, we turned down a road full of cars and came to our destination: Kabanas!
The parking lot was filling up fast, and we were directed into a spot. When we got inside ($40 cover for the guys, but only $20 for the ladies), some promoters handed us fan-shaped flyers which were actually a life-saver. The club area itself is pretty huge, and I was worried about losing the guys, but fortunately it wasn’t extremely crowded when we arrived and we were able to stake out a spot. Then I was able to make a first impression of the raison d’être, the forró! There was a live band playing at the front of the club, with professional dancers onstage.
The pros were really impressive, but even more so were the dozens of couples around me dancing just as fast. But it didn’t look like something I couldn’t handle, and I was eager to try – well, maybe with the exception of the extreme pelvic thrusting that some of the dancers thought was an integral move. So, after grabbing some beers (um, they were R$2.50. Whaaa?), Cristina grabbed me and taught me the basics…and soon we were whirling around, dancing faster and faster, and making our high-heeled feet work overtime! It was great, because I never get to partner dance like that.
Cristina was a really good teacher, but I didn’t get the chance to dance with anyone else so I don’t know how I’d fare with one of those guys (they are so good, you don’t actually have to know how to dance if you can follow a lead). I guess that’s an adventure for another day.
The other source of entertainment was Albert. We all waited patiently for him to try out his new skillz (from the forró dance class he’d taken the previous day), and it didn’t take long for him to approach a group of girls nearby. The only problem was, on closer inspection they appeared to be about 16 or 17! Ohh Brazilian clubs. Anyway, it was still funny to see him bobbing around, trying to avoid stepping on their feet, and the girls swooning simply because he has blond hair and blue eyes. After a while the band finished their set, and the club played hip hop during the intermission (which actually got Paul dancing…who knew?). By the time the band returned to the stage, Paul and Vinicius had decided they’d had enough forró for the night and Cristina’s and my feet were pretty sore, so we dragged Albert away from the jailbait and headed back to the car. By the time we got back to the city it was 2am, and I realized I’d been up since 6:30 for work, so I asked to be dropped off. Apparently the boys went out to Porão do Alemão, a rock club that I’d been to the week before, and stayed out until 5:30. If I missed some hijinks, it was definitely worth it to shuck off the heels and get some sleep.
In fact, I got a lot of sleep for the next couple of days, and my next adventure didn’t happen until Tuesday…but that will be the next post. The final verdict on Forró? It’s a lot of fun, but not an every weekend thing. And if you’re going to go, take a nap because it lasts all night, and wear heels you can dance in!