Tropical Storms in Olinda

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A few hours, and a few drinks later, we are at a different street party. Phillipe and I are the whitest guys around, which is obvious by our lack of rhythm. After chatting to a few people, the heavens open up and it’s Natal all over again. The crowd surges towards a small club across the street, but as the rain drenches everyone, several girls start dancing with joy in the street. It is by far one of the sexiest scenes I have ever seen. The air is still muggy, but instead of cooling everyone down, the rain turns up the heat. We pile into the club and start dancing to synth pop. Just as I think I’m in some kind of sexed-up Britney Spears video, the DJ plays her song Toxic, and for a moment I expect her to come walking through dancefloor. “You should be here for Carnival!” screams Rafaela over the music. If this is low season, I’m afraid of what Carnival, the climax of Brazil’s social life, must be like.

We took a bus into Recife the next day, after the morning deluge had subsided, leaving everything hot and wet. Rather than dampen spirits, the heavy rain seemed to sweep away sins, clearing the canvas for another day of dreams. We drove past the favelas, a noxious smell arising from the almost flooded river, Past rotting colonial palaces, desperately in need of a layer of paint they will never get. Unfinished buildings look like the victims of a misguided bombing campaign, and people are hawking everything, everywhere. The aggressive looking Policia Militar are prominent. “Thank God for that,” says Crislene, “we can now walk around at night.” Into the old part of town, Antigo, which shares the colour of Olinda, even as its opulence fades. We find out that it will cost only $30 for a flight from Salvador to Rio, saving a 24-bus ride sure to shatter Phillipe’s nerves once and for all. Finding a travel agent was not as easy, but with that mission accomplished, it was time to plan the next step south: a 16-hour bus to Salvador, the heart of “Black” Brazil, where the heart beats as loud as the drums on every street corner.

Pousada d’Olinda
Recife

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