Bahia’s Independence Day
2 July 2005 (Saturday) – Salvador, Brazil
Today is Bahia’s Independence Day. There was a sense of anticipation as the streets start to fill up with people in the morning. I walked to Largo do Pelourinho, expecting to see something there… but as the streams of people seemed to be heading towards Largo do Carmo (my way), I retraced my steps. There were some bands playing around Largo do Carmo, and slowly, the crowd started to gather there. I headed further down Rua Directa de Santo Antonio which was the street where I lived. The crowd got thicker and thicker and by around 10am, the first of the parade arrived.
There were brass bands, military marches, oludum drummers, dancers of all ages, berimbaus players and capoeira fighters, groups from various associations, people dressed up as Indians, people riding on horses, ladies dressed in the Bahian lacy, bouncy dresses, clowns, theatrical actors… everything representative (or not) of the Bahian culture.
Everyone was dancing, cheering, drinking, waving their Bahian flags around. Children looked around, bewildered, at times, dancing, at times, asking for snacks. Old men and women sat outside their homes or leaned out of the windows to watch. It was colourful, noisy and the mood was thoroughly infectious!
I squeezed up and down the street, sometimes, I joined in the march briefly… at times, I just stood and kept on watching what else was coming. There seemed NO END to the parade. In total, I think the parade line took more than 3 hours to pass. It was 1pm before the parade appeared to have finished.
Then, of course, for the Salvadoreans, the street party had just begun. Every strategic corner, especially those where an enterprising senhor or senhora had set up a drinks or snack stall would attract a crowd in no time. Friends, neighbours gathered around to chat, laugh, dance. Some guys even brought out their audio set fixed at the boot of the car to blast their happy music out loud.
Meanwhile, as they drank and threw their empty cans or plastic bottles around, the recyclers, usually poor people, would go around picking these up. In a way, they kept the streets clean, especially in an occasion like this where there is massive partying on the streets. I feel that with them around, it perpetuated the practice of wantonly tossing your litter on the ground. But anyway, Carol, back in Rio, had informed me that Brazil is one of the largest recyclers for aluminium cans and plastic bottles. So, well… the problem of rubbish and how to recycle them… at least there is ‘something’ working here in Brazil.
I rested the rest of the day, as I had fallen sick. I started having a cold last night and I still felt crappy today. I think it was because my cheapie accommodation had no hot shower and I had caught a chill.
Anyway, by 7pm or so, the van for the Candomblé came to pick me up and we headed to the place. As this is my second time at a Candomblé, I was surprised that when we arrived at around 8pm, this one had already started. The grounds here seemed more public and more touristy. OK, there were a lot more tourists here, but there were also many, many locals. And these people seemed to have attended many sessions before, as they were singing along with the songs in the Yoruba language and cheering passionately. So, this was not a show set up for tourists. In the centre, there was a group of men and women dancing to the beat of the drums, with small hand movements.
When the music ended and changed to another one, there would be another dance movement, slightly different in steps and hand movements. It was not long before a woman fell into a trance first. The moderators quickly went to her and put on some ribbons around her chest and head. Then, slowly, one by one, a few others fell into a trance. Some started yelping, others just twirled around in a different pattern.
In the end, there were about 8 or 9 of them who fell into a trance before the group stopped. The beat of the drums were now for those in trance. Some went around hugging people, others lay down on the ground to pay homage to the matriach of the Candomblé session. A couple of them would twirl out to the front door to pray and then twirl back. All these were done with their eyes closed, for they had been possessed by the various orixas.
Before long, they were ushered out and we were actually served some food. I told you this was a little touristy. It was a plate of rice with everything oozing with dende oil. The taste was too rich for me. I couldn’t eat more than a couple of mouthfuls.
When they restarted the session, the entranceds were now dressed in the costumes and carrying the implements representative of the various orixas that they were possessed by. I recognised Xango and Oxum, because I had been diligent yesterday at the Museu Afro-Brasileiro, making notes. But, naturally, I left the notebook back home! So, I could not check for the rest! Darn. The whole session ended by around 10pm. The orixas danced their way out and everyone followed.
I could not help but compare this session with the other one I saw in 2002. That one had an initiation of a young boy and lasted from 10pm to later than 1:30am. It was less commercialised, much more longer and complicated, and the people in the trance were young novices, girls between the age of 10-14, they had more intricate steps and movements and rituals, and the costumes were a lot more amazing.
This one is from Nigeria, so perhaps, certain practices which I knew nothing of were different and the anthropologist who speaks English that we were promised never materialised, so we could not understand anything or have our questions answered. But for sure, this one was genuine and just as interesting.
Tags: 03) The Land of the Spirits, Salvador
swesn