costume – THE ONLY ERIKA IN THE VILLAGE

Our costumed experience: The Gay nightlife of Rio

Note: This post originally written by Peter as Erika (me!) was too wasted. I have since edited it, and where possible have told the story from my point of view.

Last night at Carnival, peter drank too much booze in too little a time (the result of holding off on the drinking all night so that we wouldn’t have to go to the bathroom and lose our seats). Therefore, he was hungover and we slept for most of the day, waking up just in time to find some dinner. We decided to bus into Copacabana for our first Brazilian Barbeque experience. With reasonably accurate directions from our hostel and a few people along the street, we found the resturant ‘Monchique’. From the moment we walked in we were approached by waiters holding huge portions of beef, pork, chicken, lamb and meats we did not even recognise. Not only could we stuff our faces with as much of this meat as we wanted, there was also a buffet laid out with side dishes a-plenty. Peter must have still been pretty hungover, because he couldn’t eat even half as much as he normally would, but I made sure to clean my plate. After this feast, we strolled along the beach and came across a street party. We joined in temporarily, then made our way home to get ready for the Scala Gay Costume Ball.

After much consideration, we had organised outfits for the ball – mine a very short and sexy sailor girl costume, Peter’s a very short and gay Sailor boy costume. They were perfect for the occasion.

We (but mostly me) decided to have a few (but really lots) of drinks before leaving for the ball, as there were cheap cocktails at our hostel and the drinks at the last ball hadn’t exactly been great value. I lost track of time with my drinking and we missed all the buses that would get us to the ball so had to take a taxi. Strolling up to the entrance, we were suddenly surrounded by gay men and outrageous transvestites. Peter claims he clenched a little harder as we entered the club! While I was in the bathroom, Peter was flirted with – which would have been fine except it was by a blonde Australian girl named Brodie – we were at a gay ball, this was not supposed to be happening! After promising to only be hit on by gay men lest I get upset, Peter procceeds to be chatted up at the bar by a young brazilian man. Still upset (due to lack of attention towards me) we negotiated the terms of a competition between us of attractiveness to the opposite (and same) sex. Although Peter was 2 up on me, I was confident I could win! We both get extremely competitive, so we were sure to have a good time with this bet. I decided that Peter was only ahead due to me wasting my time staring at the beautiful, nearly naked big muscular podium dancers – unfortuntely Peter claims they were all winking at him!

Eventually, we did realise there were also a LOT of straight men at the ball (mainly local guys attempting to pick up tourists). These men were quite forward with their affection until Peter showed up! Competition was ‘stiff’ and the young brazilian who took a liking to Peter kept showing up like a shark circling its prey. During Peter’s time in the bathroom, he gained the attention of six men, one of them blatantly giving him the eye next to him at the urinal. When Peter came out of the toilets, he immediately had to push away a guy who had a hold of me and was atempting to kiss me. Swiftly putting an end to that, the guy kissed him instead. What’s a man to do?

In the end it was a successful night with a final flirting tally of 34-34 – a clean draw. Then Peter got to take me home…and put me to bed because I was drunk.

Until Next Time,
Erika xx

The best of both worlds

While in Rio de Janiero, Peter and I were interested in taking a tour of a favela, an activity which had been recommended to us. Today was the perfect day for us to take this tour, but unfortunately we had not organised in advance. Miraculously, after emailing the company at 11:30 pm the night before, there was space for us and a reply before the 9:30 am departure this morning. The favela tour, like so many experiences which are the result of travel, is unfortunately something I will never be able to accurately describe. A favela is definitely eye-opening. Incredibly scary and dangerous, however, in many ways you want to leave the overly safe tour and explore on your own; experience the danger. The experience is also a strange combination of fun and exciting yet disgusting and filled with despair.

We hopped onto motorbike taxis which took us up the hill and right into the epicentre of the Rochina favela, the largest in Rio, along its only proper road. These motorbike taxis were not only our form of transport, but were also significant in that they are the most commonly used transport service in the favela. Our group was led onto the roof of one of the dwellings to see the view. As we filed past, we were examined through a doorway by the ‘drug watchers’ who keep an eye on anybody coming into the favela. The tour operators are required to bring us past these guards as a condition of having the priviledge to provide these tours.

During the tour, we visited some wonderful places in the favela, including an art gallery in which children of the favela are taught to paint by resident artists. This service is provided to any of the children who want to learn, as long as they provide their report cards to show that they are attending school. We bought a beautiful painting from this gallery, of which the money we spent went to the artist and only the artist, who we met while we were there. We also visted the favela bakery, and bought a beer and a pastry, although I was a little put off my food as we walked further and further down the hill of the favela. The small winding paths were cramped, maze-like, stinky, and covered in literal shit. We were informed that the worst housing was at the bottom of the hill, where the sewage from all the homes in the favela collected.

Our very informative guide also explained to us the gravity of the situation in the favela. None of the people living in the favela owned the land on which they live. The average house here cost 8000 to 36000 real (about 3,500 to 20,000 American dollars). This is essentially the cost of materials. Houses are built wherever space can be found, and when no space is left the residents begin to sell their roofs so that other families can build on top. The average incme in the favela is only 800 real a month and the houses are technically illegal, these people could have their homes bulldozed and be thrown off the land at any time. It must be terrible to live in fear as there is a good chance you could lose everything. No wonder drug dealing is such a temptation in the favela.

As we travelled through the winding paths, we passed children entertaining themselves in the doorsteps of the many homes. These kids had learnt the words ‘gringo’, ‘money’ and’photo’ in english. Our guide had told us not to give the children money, as they were trying to teach the kids in the favela to work for their money, not to beg for it. However, the kids absolutely loved it when you took photographs of them. It felt good to be helping the families by being on the tour in the first place, as 70 percent of the money we had paid went to fund the favela’s day care centre. As we got closer and closer to the edge of the favela, these photographs had to stop in case we accidentally captured someone with a gun, grenade, walkie talkie, or blatantly dealing drugs, on camera. The favela tour was finished by 1 pm and after a shower to wash off the muck, Peter and I headed to Copacabana beach to relax for the afternoon.

Tonight, we were headed for the main event – the Carnival Samba Parade! Outside the stadium, we got distracted by the hundreds of food stalls (where we ate LOTS of dinner) and the hundreds of people wandering around in costume who we just had to get our photos taken with! Unfortunately, this meant that we arrived at our previously booked ‘sector’ just in time for the start of the parade and realised there was no space left! We eventually squeezed in right up in the back row, but without seats and behind others who were also standing. I couldn’t see a thing! Despite this situation, we saw more and more people wandering around looking for places to stand or sit and realised we had better stay where we were.

We ended up perched on top of the concrete barrier wall, four stories above the ground, but at least we had a great view from there! We eventually got told to get off the wall, but found a seat later in the night as people began to leave. We survived until about 4 am, absolutely mesmerised by the beautiful parade. By this time, the rain which had slowly started to drizzle down during the night had become unbearable. The parade continued on without us until about 8am, but we continued watching on TV in the hostel, while Peter began making up for lost drinking time (we had decided not to drink during the parade for fear of losing our seats if we needed to go to the bathroom). What a long night!

Until Next Time,

Erika xx

Overwhelming Rio

After a long sleep in, we woke up just in time for dinner: tonight, we tried a ‘per-kilo’ buffet – an entirely new experience for me! The meal was charged at whatever the weight of your plate was once piled with food. I of course took this as a challenge to figure out which types of food would be the lightest, and to eat mostly these foods…

The next morning, we were entertained by the cat before we had even left the hostel. It went absolutely crazy, its eyes were rolling into the back of its head and it was running into tables and everything. I think It has been drinking the spa water – poor thing. Other than the crazy cat show, our morning was incredibly unsuccessful. We attempted to find a pretty neighbourhood called Sant Theresa to walk around and have lunch at, but unfortunately got a little lost and ended up walking right into the outskirts of a favela (a brazilian slum). In case you did not know this, going anywhere near a slum in Brazil is probably not a good idea. After realising we had no idea how to walk around the favela, we headed into the center of town to visit the museum and art gallery – both of which were closed. At least we got the hang of the transport systems, had a great time seeing the city, and met a very friendly brazilian in a Robin Hood costume!

We spent the afternoon in Ipanema with some friends from the hostel. We visited the gorgeous beach, purchased souvineirs from the hippie market and gawked at the crazy costumed people walking around and the street party going on. I would recommend the neighbourhood of Ipanema to EVERYONE. After having a bit of a boogie and using up the last of our money, we were starving and needed to find an ATM. Unfortunately, this was more difficult than we thought it would be. Luckily, we found one when I was about to faint with starvation, and sat down to eat meat on a stick at a street stall, washed down with a cold beer. Trying to get home was a nightmare due to the street party, there was no way we were getting a taxi or a bus! So we walked home around the lake, which was a gorgeous walk but took us a bit over an hour. Oh well, what did we expect?? ITS CARNIVALE!! (can you tell I’m a tiny bit excited?).

Until next time,
Erika xx

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