I had heard conflicting reports about Carnval in this area, people had told me that both the local villages, Pipa and Tibau, empty for the other during this holiday. As it turns out, almost everywhere seemed absolutely packed last week for the 5-day festival. Quite possibly the tumbleweeds were blowing hard in the large Rio Grande do Norte interior, (I read recently that the largest Christian statue in the world is tucked away in the interior, which puts Rio de Janeiro to shame a little), but the coast is where the action was. My first taster came last Friday, (dates and events may have been muddled, but the gist is the same), when I went to see a band perform with none other than Sr. David as my wingman. I initially thought it might be a bit naff to be hanging around with an old-timer at an event like this, but everyone knows and loves him in Pipa, and I managed to bathe in his glow somewhat. He even managed to score some wristbands for the Yahoo Bloco for the final day of Carnaval, but more on this later.
The band was great, (a video is hopefully uploading now), and I had a great chat with the old-fella. A squall quickly blew in, and although the party moved indoors, we jumped ship. David's walking park is 9 hectares, but he owns about 100 hectares of land that almost circles Pipa. He's trying to rein this runaway train of development in, being the cowboy that he is. He showed me some of the nearby sanctuary land, that had been donated in a will, and even though I already knew it, it really struck me what great work he's doing here. The view was spectacular, and I was munching away on a pile of delicious forest druits, one of which, Massaranduba, had me climbing through thicket and thin for one more handful.
That night I headed to Tibau where a huge stage had been set up on the beach. I have no pics of Carnaval itself, due to fear of my camera and of my antics, but you'll have to believe that it was pretty deadly. I started in Valdenir's house, a family that have been really kind on both my visits here. I then got involved in following a trio electrico around the main square over and over. All this required was a load of us drinking and dancing behind a slow-moving truck that blared music, and had a platform on top of it, that was full of people who drank and danced slightly better than us. We then all moved down to the beach/stage at around midnight, and danced away to the local tunes til the sun came up. 'Forró' was the order of the day mostly, and I heavily indulged in what I consider a local delicacy; hot dogs, (the secret is the sheer volume of shite that they stuff into the thing). The family kindly put me up when I crawled in the door, but I was out the door at 7 o'clock unfortunately. Due to a confluence of circumstances, the only work I've been doing at the sanctuary has been at the reception, and a 12 o'clock start there was pretty hard to stomach.
A few days before the start of Carnaval, Flávio arrived at the sanctuary to help out. Whatever I say about this guy, I have to admit he's a character, and a hell of a smart guy. He knows a huge amount about the forest, and so he should, as he sponged 8 years out of a 3-year Biology course in Natal, thanks to a lax grant system. He's now about to do a 1-year masters, (again funded) , so lets see how long that takes. He comes to the sanctuary every Carnaval, pitches his tent here, and acts as a 'volunteer' guide to tourists, thanks to good English and Spanish. The men feel obliged to pay him, while the women fall for his rastafarian charm, and he generally becomes a 'kept man' for a few days on their grace. I then get regaled with these conquests the next day at the rececption, but its hard not to chuckle along with this high-pitch giggle. There is no denying Valdenir's verdict, that he is a bit of a parasite, but a character nonetheless.
And back to me. That same day as I listened to another conquest at the reception, (Norwegian this time, I think), I was asked by Daniel to go to Malembá for the night. This is a duney 5km stretch of beach that has a history of turtle deaths over Carnaval. Three had been recorded so far this year, probably by people who camp there for the holidays, and enjoy the tradition of chowing down on a cute 90kg hawksbill with a few brewskis. We got the ferry over the lagoon and patrolled all night, tagging three turtles in the process. We saw nothing suspicious, and seemingly a constant presence was enough for the rest of Carnaval to put off any more attacks. I had planned jumping off the back of the speeding quad to apprehend someone, most likely with a Miami Vice line like 'hit the floor punk', but alas it was not to be. The dunes are beautiful, for what its worth, and slept soundly that night.
My turtling work wasn't over for Carnaval, and the next morning I did the Madeiro morning beat which I've previously described. I had a quick dip at the end of it, and made my way home in the dawn light, shirtless, once I'd walked the beach. About half-way home the military police stopped me, and told me to get in. I naively told them that I don't really need a lift, and that my shorts were wet anyway. GET.IN.THE.CAR.(in menacing Portuguese). As well as the two policeman, there was another shirtless guy in the back. We were shuttled off to Tibau where a furious baker immediately pointed at the other detainee. The baker's phone had been stolen, and we were the only two shirtless guys heading in the opposite direction. I was told to leave and the other guy got a truncheon acoss the ear, and who knows what else after I left. Thugs. They stopped me again after a few minutes, and actually did give me a lift. Lol.
I only really got into the nitty-gritty of Carnaval on the final day. I went down to Pipa on Ash Wednesday, and was greeted by a hoard of fancy-dress. Men dressed as women, women hardly dressed, it was all a bit hard to take in, and I went to Shirley House to grab some lunch and relax. As I sat and watched the street, who did I see but the Yahoo Bloco coming down the street. I found my wristband in my pocket, paid, and jumped in. For those of you without experience of Carnaval, a bloco is a living, breathing, mutating organism of joy. It consists of a float, flags, banners, followed by dancers, drummers and trumpeters. I was immediately passed a beer and a caipirinha for my troubles, and away we went. I stopped quickly to get a mask, in one of the shops, and didn't stop partying with that crowd for who knows how long. At different points I was carrying the flags, banging drums, being sound, being a nuisance, waving at the TAMAR guys as I passed them, and generally having fun. I seemed to have misplaced my notes after this point in time, and therefore can't relate exactly what happened, but it was most likely fun.
Hope you're all well,
Até mais.
The band was great, (a video is hopefully uploading now), and I had a great chat with the old-fella. A squall quickly blew in, and although the party moved indoors, we jumped ship. David's walking park is 9 hectares, but he owns about 100 hectares of land that almost circles Pipa. He's trying to rein this runaway train of development in, being the cowboy that he is. He showed me some of the nearby sanctuary land, that had been donated in a will, and even though I already knew it, it really struck me what great work he's doing here. The view was spectacular, and I was munching away on a pile of delicious forest druits, one of which, Massaranduba, had me climbing through thicket and thin for one more handful.
That night I headed to Tibau where a huge stage had been set up on the beach. I have no pics of Carnaval itself, due to fear of my camera and of my antics, but you'll have to believe that it was pretty deadly. I started in Valdenir's house, a family that have been really kind on both my visits here. I then got involved in following a trio electrico around the main square over and over. All this required was a load of us drinking and dancing behind a slow-moving truck that blared music, and had a platform on top of it, that was full of people who drank and danced slightly better than us. We then all moved down to the beach/stage at around midnight, and danced away to the local tunes til the sun came up. 'Forró' was the order of the day mostly, and I heavily indulged in what I consider a local delicacy; hot dogs, (the secret is the sheer volume of shite that they stuff into the thing). The family kindly put me up when I crawled in the door, but I was out the door at 7 o'clock unfortunately. Due to a confluence of circumstances, the only work I've been doing at the sanctuary has been at the reception, and a 12 o'clock start there was pretty hard to stomach.
A few days before the start of Carnaval, Flávio arrived at the sanctuary to help out. Whatever I say about this guy, I have to admit he's a character, and a hell of a smart guy. He knows a huge amount about the forest, and so he should, as he sponged 8 years out of a 3-year Biology course in Natal, thanks to a lax grant system. He's now about to do a 1-year masters, (again funded) , so lets see how long that takes. He comes to the sanctuary every Carnaval, pitches his tent here, and acts as a 'volunteer' guide to tourists, thanks to good English and Spanish. The men feel obliged to pay him, while the women fall for his rastafarian charm, and he generally becomes a 'kept man' for a few days on their grace. I then get regaled with these conquests the next day at the rececption, but its hard not to chuckle along with this high-pitch giggle. There is no denying Valdenir's verdict, that he is a bit of a parasite, but a character nonetheless.
And back to me. That same day as I listened to another conquest at the reception, (Norwegian this time, I think), I was asked by Daniel to go to Malembá for the night. This is a duney 5km stretch of beach that has a history of turtle deaths over Carnaval. Three had been recorded so far this year, probably by people who camp there for the holidays, and enjoy the tradition of chowing down on a cute 90kg hawksbill with a few brewskis. We got the ferry over the lagoon and patrolled all night, tagging three turtles in the process. We saw nothing suspicious, and seemingly a constant presence was enough for the rest of Carnaval to put off any more attacks. I had planned jumping off the back of the speeding quad to apprehend someone, most likely with a Miami Vice line like 'hit the floor punk', but alas it was not to be. The dunes are beautiful, for what its worth, and slept soundly that night.
My turtling work wasn't over for Carnaval, and the next morning I did the Madeiro morning beat which I've previously described. I had a quick dip at the end of it, and made my way home in the dawn light, shirtless, once I'd walked the beach. About half-way home the military police stopped me, and told me to get in. I naively told them that I don't really need a lift, and that my shorts were wet anyway. GET.IN.THE.CAR.(in menacing Portuguese). As well as the two policeman, there was another shirtless guy in the back. We were shuttled off to Tibau where a furious baker immediately pointed at the other detainee. The baker's phone had been stolen, and we were the only two shirtless guys heading in the opposite direction. I was told to leave and the other guy got a truncheon acoss the ear, and who knows what else after I left. Thugs. They stopped me again after a few minutes, and actually did give me a lift. Lol.
I only really got into the nitty-gritty of Carnaval on the final day. I went down to Pipa on Ash Wednesday, and was greeted by a hoard of fancy-dress. Men dressed as women, women hardly dressed, it was all a bit hard to take in, and I went to Shirley House to grab some lunch and relax. As I sat and watched the street, who did I see but the Yahoo Bloco coming down the street. I found my wristband in my pocket, paid, and jumped in. For those of you without experience of Carnaval, a bloco is a living, breathing, mutating organism of joy. It consists of a float, flags, banners, followed by dancers, drummers and trumpeters. I was immediately passed a beer and a caipirinha for my troubles, and away we went. I stopped quickly to get a mask, in one of the shops, and didn't stop partying with that crowd for who knows how long. At different points I was carrying the flags, banging drums, being sound, being a nuisance, waving at the TAMAR guys as I passed them, and generally having fun. I seemed to have misplaced my notes after this point in time, and therefore can't relate exactly what happened, but it was most likely fun.
Hope you're all well,
Até mais.
