I want to go undersea in a diving-bell
and return to the surface with ominous wonders to tell.
-Tennessee Williams
Essie and I went to Rio De Janeiro about a month ago. Everyone keeps asking me "how Brazil was", to which I respond with a detached, "great." It was our second time there so there were no real new surprises. Our good friends Ben and Robert met us there which made for more ambitious day trips than had we been left to our own devices.
Truth is, not many Americans choose to fly 13 hours to a 3rd world country for their yearly vacation. Most people are happy enough taking a 3 hour flight to Mexico or some resort island only to be surrounded by brown people serving up weak cocktails followed by dinner at the Outback Steakhouse and a nightcap of hotel-bar karaoke. Not my idea of vacation.
I need to go somewhere that challenges me. I want to explore our planet and see how other people live their lives sans 24 hour news stations. Vacations have never really been about relaxation as they are about taking me out of my comfort zone and adapting to the world around me, the real world that emerges when you're the only white person in a restaurant or the only American for 20 square miles.
Rio renewed me in so many ways. Aside from sufficient vitamin D with beachside caipirinha chasers, rainforest hikes, and the standard breathtaking vistas, Rio perscribed equal parts reality and transcendence.
In Rio, you are surrounded by extreme wealth and extreme poverty. The reality of pre-teen hustlers next to multi-million dollar townhouses go together like peanut butter and jelly in this town. At night when the favelas light up the mountainsides like white strings of lights coiled around mountainous Christmas trees, you wonder: "when are they going to get pissed off enough to come down here and revolt?"
Two things make the poor and rich coexist relatively peacefully: beach & samba. There is no dominant race in Rio. In fact, they've won the proverbial gene lottery in the sense that they are a mix of European, Indigenous, and African blood. Cariocas (residents of Rio) define "culturally ambiguous." This racial mix has produced a country full of gorgeous dark-skinned, light-eyed, curly-haired supermodels. On the beach clad only in the smallest trunks/swimsuit money can buy, people mingle, drink, play soccer, roll in the waves and proudly strut their hotness regardless of age, sex, or skin color. People get off the bus in business attire around 5, strip down to almost nothing, and meet friends for smoothies and a round of soccer/volleyball until the sun goes down. Seems healthier than us gringos trying to squeeze in a 30 minute cardio workout after a 10 hour workday.
I think the samba is satanic. Watching live samba is like watching a snake charmer heal the unbelievers at a baptist church in Alabama. Our night at the Rio Scenarium (second time there) reminded me how much music can change your mood, lift you up, and make you dance no matter how bad a mood you may be in. Cariocas shake their hips, dance with people twice their age, and rub shoulders with every socio-economic class while never missing a word of the chorus. The Afro-Brazilian drummers make you want to roll your eyes back letting the percussion lift you up from the crown of your head, levitating over the dancefloor. It's a happiness that permeates the room in a way I almost never experience in America.
All in all, Rio reminded me that I'm living the right way. Rebelling from the status quo can be exhausting in the United States. Turning off the TV, making music, giving in to your humanist tendencies are all discouraged by the corporate canopy. Brazil gave me the clarity of knowing that other people on the planet hold the same simple things close to their hearts. Nature and music allow us to transcend banking crises, declining stock portfolios, and over consumptive behaviors.
Every taxi driver in Rio congratulated me on my new president. They are so happy for America so I can only smile and nod with hidden envy for their sun and basic rhythms. I hope that I can create microclimates of Rio for my kids and my friends, pushing out corporate greed, mindless cultural anxiety, and whitebreadedness that permeates our isolated cultural drama. I want to make the waves crash harder, the sun shine hotter, and the music play later like Rio taught me.
