The Hummingbird’s gifts
Photo of the blog: Temporary homes at “O Chamado de Beija Flor” (Festival of the Hummingbird).
Hummingbirds were a real theme on this trip, they tended to appear at the magical moments, times when I was high on the adventure, times when I really felt that I was “In the flow”. I was of course travelling without a plan, but there are certain levels of “without a plan” that can be achieved. This trip for me was a case of “How much can I let go of what I want to happen and just go with the flow and trust that whatever happens I will be ok and it will be perfect”.
Now I had arrived at “O Chamado do Beija Flor” (the Hummingbird Festival) and it was a particularly magic moment. I couldn’t have felt more “In the flow” than this, not even on this trip, with the amazing experiences that had already transpired. I’d planned to be in Florianopolis learning Portuguese but the universe had other ideas. Now here I was, 2000km from Floripa in the middle of the Brazilian high plains after travelling some 50 hours with two Astral travelling surfers that I met a week earlier because I thought I was on the wrong bus. Apparently that bus couldn’t have been more right.
“O Chamado, O Chamado, Beijaaa Flor, Beij-a flor, Beijaaa Flor, Beij-a Flor” chanted hundreds of Brazilians and other people from all over the world at the opening night of the festival. There were drums, songs, flags, didgeridoos, painted bodies, bare breasts, happy faces and strangers hugging. Everyone sang, danced and celebrated being at O Chamado do Beija Flor. This was the grand opening of the 13 day celebration of peace, music, healing and sustainable living.
There was a huge open area to accomodate the tents of the 1000 plus revellers. Eduardo, Cristiano and I found our spots near a group of friendly “Cariocas” (people from Rio). We bonded with the Cariocas on the final bus in with a great sing-a-long session. My guitar came in handy, I even did a few songs myself and was thoroughly entertained by my first taste of the passion Brasileiros have for music. I belted out the likes of Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song” and the whole bus sang with a proud and loud voice. Much like us Anglo descendants would after a few beers. Brasilieros just don’t have that inhibition, they just let it out. Brasileiros don’t even care if they know the words or not, and a few strategically places grunts or “la la las” normally gets them through to the chorus. This was a constant source of amusement and joy for me on the trip whenever I dusted off the six-string for a sing-along. They are just the most wonderful people. Its hard to write this! I am getting all nostalgic or as they would say in Brazil “Saudades”.
The music was almost constant for the whole event. Circles of people huddled around a guitar and other instruments littered the campground on a daily basis. In the evening drum circles formed around fires, and dance circles formed around the drum circles. Later, someone would arrive with a Harmonium and do “Kirtan” for a while building up to a energetic crescendo. Each gathering at the fire would inevitably mellow out back to gentle beats, guitars, singing and didgeridoos. It all happened spontaneously, its seemed everyone there was a musician of some sort and it seemed everyone could sing.
Days were filled with endless events. There were almost too many choices. You could go to talks on Permaculture, Healing, Mayan Calendar Astrology, South American Herbalism. Anything to do with healing and ecology was running at some time. It was hard to take it all in. I started to plan my days to try and fit it all in, “I’ll go here, I’ll go there, can’t miss that, gotta see that and better fit in some time to work on some songwriting etc…” but really I was missing the point and ended up just walking around aimlessly most of the time.
I wanted to do all these things but really, something was wrong. I just wasn’t myself. I wasn’t happy here at this so called mini-utopia. Like it was all too much. The cracks were starting to appear.
I realised I really missed Susan.
It was now a month since my US Visa ran out and I had to leave Susie. With the craziness that was Argentina and the whole land purchase situation and bolting half way across Brazil in the first week here, I didn’t have time to think. Now I had plenty of time to think, and despite being surrounded by 500 gorgeous, young, often naked, Brasilian woman, all I wanted was my Susie.
You’d think I would have woken up at that point and headed into town to call her up and announce my undying love for her. But no, I came up with 101 reasons that I had to continue to run away from her and be free and easy leaving it up to my old favourite commitment-phobe excuse “If its meant to be its meant to be”. So after a bit of a cry and some chats with new caring friends I buried it again and just got on with enjoying the trip. For now anyway.
By this stage the boys, Eduardo and Cristiano had gone bush. They decided the forest was a much nicer place to camp. I wholeheartedly agreed but was a bit reluctant since it was against the rules of the festival. I expressed my concern to Cristiano and he came back with his favourite English reply that he used for almost everything “Fuck that shit, man”. No matter what it was, if Cristiano didn’t like something, out it came: “Fuck that shit, man”. I laughed everytime he said it. I guess you have to be there but a Brazilian swearing like that in English is up there with them singing along to songs in English when they don’t speak english. Ahhh, Saudades.
After giving Cristiano 100 reasons why I wasn’t moving my tent into the forest and after he had replied to each reason with “Fuck that shit, man”, I finally relented and went bush. I’m glad I did, it was good to have a out of the way to retire to from the intensity of the festival.
After moving to the forest and burying the Susie situation, I felt much better. I was back out there each day, lugging around my guitar everywhere chatting to people, playing music with people and having a good time. But I was still a bit too scheduled about it. “Gonna go play guitar here, maybe write some songs in the morning, then go to this event” etc etc…It was like I was in a London mindset or something. But this was far from London…
Then one day I was walking around with my guitar and I ran into an American guy I had met earlier called Tracy. Tracy said “Hey lets play some tunes man”. I said “nah, I am heading back to my tent, I want to just relax and read a book.” Tracy replied “No No man, NOW is the time to play music, NOW”. So I got out my guitar and Tracy had a drum. Next thing I knew we had a flute player, another guitarist and a few backup singers. They were just passing by. My energy surged. This was what it was all about. Spontaneity. Going with the flow. Hundreds of people had lined up to be served lunch nearby. The Hare Krishnas were there everyday, dishing out food for 1000 people for free. Next thing the Hare Krishnas called us over. They wanted me and my “band” to play for the lunchtime crowds. Suddenly we were performing for a crowd. We played “Imagine” and “Redemption Song” and I belted out U2’s “Pride (In the naaaaamme of love)” and everyone joined in. The energy was amazing. My Hare Krishna friends then did a few of their numbers or should I say, a few different versions of their number. I mean no disrespect to the Hare’s, I love them, I have even considered growing one of those ponytails myself. I think they look quite fetching. Its not just the fetching ponytails though, they are always the most lovely peaceful people.
After the Hare numbers it was back to me and the band. I know a few Bhajans (Indian Devotional Songs) myself, on the guitar. So I thought I would hit the crowd with Shiva Shambo. The lyrics aren’t difficult its just “Shiva Shiva Shiva Shambo, Shiva Shiva Shiva Shambo, Maha Deva Shambo, Maha Deva Shambo”. A simple song, you would think so I wondered why some of the Brasileiros were singing “Grunt grunt grunt laver shampoo, la la deva shampoo”. It didn’t matter, what mattered is that everyone was singing at the top of their lungs. A circle of people formed in the middle, they danced like crazy, and as the music got faster and faster they span faster and faster. The energy built and built until it reached a peak of intensity and finally slowed and quietened to a gentle tone as the dance circle peeled open and it’s blissed-out revellers collapsed back to their seats exhausted. I had so much fun and playing for a crowd never felt so natural or effortless. I was high for days after.
At that stage I decided to let go completely and go with the flow. The spontaneous music continued to happen everywhere. Nothing ever reached the energy of that day though. One lunchtime, I even tried to recapture it. I went to my Hare Krishna friends and said lets do that again. So we did, but it was not the same. The effortlessness of the magical session a few days earlier just wasn’t there. It felt forced, because it was. I was trying to recapture the magic of a moment past.
Tracy was right, “that” was the time for music and I must admit when the magic was happening part of the time I was thinking “I can’t wait to do this again” rather than just letting go completely to the moment. Then when I tried to recreate it, it didn’t happen.
By this stage O Chamado was more than half over. Cristiano informed me that he had been talking to the forest spirits and they told him it was time to go home. I questioned him on whether it was actually the forest spirits or the big fat spliff he had just smoked. In any case, he and Eduardo had decided to call it a day and head back to Floripa. It was sad to see them go, I knew I wouldn’t see them for a while. We hugged goodbye and promised to be friends for life and I am sure we will be, they are my Brazilian brothers.
I decided to stay on, although I was starting to feel like it was getting close to time to leave. It had nothing to do with forest spirits. Quite possibly it was the trough toilets that were starting to take on a spirit of their own. Not only that, it seemed that every second person had a bit of a tummy situation going on. Some people even had Staphylococcus infections. Nasty stuff. Then, the Brasilian health authorities arrived and nearly shut it down.
The end of the gathering was in site and it kind of descended into chaos. The daily meetings to scehdule the days proceeding and gather volunteers for various projects ended in one big Samba most of the time. No-one cared anymore about anything but having a good time in the present moment. That kind of sums up Brasilian culture really. The Brasilians were teaching me how to live and love each moment. The Chamado do Beija Flor was teaching me to enjoy every moment as if it was my last because ultimately, everything is temporary, everything has an ending, yet to focus on the ending is to miss the point of living: To enjoy the journey.
The day before I left I was sitting with my american mate Tracy again and this time it was his time to play. He played Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi”.
He sang “Cause you don’t know what you’ve got till its gone…”
I thought of Susie, I thought of the magical lunchtime music session that I tried to recapture and I thought, all I have is now. Only now ever exists. Each now is unique and has its own unique gifts.
Now, everytime I see a hummingbird I am reminded of that.
and…I haven’t seen a hummingbird in London. Yet.
:o)
