This may be futile because there is nothing I know of to compare it to. It is even more important than the State of the Union Address. So let's rely on my power of first-hand description, viu?
Part 1: The objective non-opinionated solely observational phase--
Carnaval is the central point of reference for time in Salvador--"oh, yeah, the first time I ever played naked volleyball was before Carnaval last year."
The entire time I have been here, the entire city has been preparing. It is as if nothing exists after Carnaval. People talk about Carnaval the way the talk about the weather.
I know what I can compare it to now. Whoville at Christmastime. And I am not even exaggerating. It's like comparing slumgullion and scottiglia.
I erred: things do exist after Carnaval. In fact, EVERYTHING is just going to get done after Carnaval. I just bought a new computer! I'll figure out how to use it after Carnaval. You are arrested for trafficking drugs! We will try you after Carnaval. You are here to go to college! We will start classes after Carnaval.
Even so, in a sense, nothing does exist--these are all things people do not want to do. And they put them behind Carnaval, because they want them to not exist anymore.
(Just to give some context on what actually happens during Carnaval--interestingly enough, and only by accidental coincidence, I am assigning the meat of the slugmullion parenthetical status. There are MASSIVE trucks with live music on top called "Trio Eletricos"
which slowly amble through the streets on these "circuits," and people dance, eat, drink, sing, make out, and fight. Bear in mind--this description is as watered-down as Brazilian beer (maybe). I will make another attempt in the opined phase). The news on television ceases. Unless you consider images of last night's debauchery and the lineup of artists for the coming eve news. As I type, the television is on full blast and all I hear is Carnaval music and every 2 minutes my host dad: "Look! Look! It's Chiclete com Banana!!!" One cannot escape Carnaval.
But why would one want to? That is a ridiculous question however you view it.
The party goes until about 5 AM. Rivers of trash erode the street. Somehow, as if by magic, it dissipates and by 6 AM the party has recommenced.
The magic that I speak of brings us to the next order of business: the Carnaval hierarchy. We have 2 sub-groups, each with various echelons.
Sub-group A: The Network
--homeless boys who run around with massive sacks crushing and collecting aluminum cans with uncanny speed and efficiency, being that crushed cans are worth 5 reais/kilo (about 6 bucks/pound). In this way, the city is cleaned...of cans, at least (which luckily happen to be the main source of trash).
--street vendors with their "piriguete" specials: 4 beers for R$5 (piriguete means slut)
--cops. The one time of the year when the Policia Militar serves a function besides stealing money from criminals or violently assaulting innocents; this function being to walk in cute little lines through the crowd. I have never seen them so organized.
--the entertainers!
Sub-group B: The People
--pipoca (or popcorn). We stand in the street and are subjected to whatever may come our way.
--camarote dwellers: A camarote is a pavillion on the side of the street with food, drink, and other music. You pay to stay in a camarote and watch the Trios pass you by...
--bloco travelers: some get to ride on the Trios, some just get to walk in the special roped-in area surrounding a Trio. Which is meaningless. I can stand outside the rope and hear the music too. It is really a status symbol cause you get a special T-shirt. We have folks paying R$1000 to be near this guy:
Part 2: The Subjective Biased Phase
(you may have sensed some judgment in Part 1 as well. You must have known I was kidding when I implied that "objective" is anything more than an abstract concept absolutely impossibly applicable in the world of humans!!!)
Carnaval is the most important thing to Salvador. And it is a joke. A huge silly kiddy carnival! And I say this with the most endearment and love possible--because I fucking love it! I think it is wonderful! This is the largest concentration of people gathered for one single event in the entire world--and everyone is here to be a little kid again (with some adult qualities like heavy drinking, public sex, and violence)!
Why can't we do this? We are too serious. Who's idea was this? A big massive 2 week long party once a year (technically it only lasts 6 days but here in Salvador we extend it a few days in either direction)! No wonder it is the most important thing to this city!
But we can do this. We are doing it.
Carnaval music is ear-piercing and repetitive and absolutely perfect for the occasion. I could never listen to it. But I cannot help to move my body in contra-skeletal undulations and permutations when I hear it. It is a completely specific and ideal genre for the biggest party in the world. It makes you want to throw up and dance until sunrise. Often times both occur simultaneously.
PLEASE watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbIFP-DwAP8
It is very informative and the computerized narration juxtaposed on the freeeeeest corporal expression I have yet witnessed is a cause for snickering. (For further research simply youtube "musica carnaval.")
Carnaval is an extremely interesting human phenomenon and can be psycho-analyzed to death. But to do so would completely crush the spirit and whole point. That's just it--what is the point? There is no point. It just is.
No. It isn't. Nothing is. I sat on the beach, looked around me, and knew with certainty that everything is nothing. It is all created by the mind. And the mind is nothing too. We are empty but awake.
And I (don't) literally think my mind is about to explode. After letting dissipate the semi-permanent grin resultant of dancing for hours until the morning to mind-thumping gut-rearranging music, I came home and sat for hours more smoking and thinking and had some very sad very intense very formative moments. And slept a dreamful and uninterrupted sleep.
People often say "literally" when they mean exactly "figuratively."
But in this very moment there are 6 or 7 people all within a 10 foot radius of me talking loudly (all of Ernani's relatives are here to enjoy the famous Carnaval of Salvador). The TV is on full blast. I am blasting Bach in my ears to concentrate. And--I am pretty sure a little drop of cerebellum just trickled out my ear down my neck and into my lap. I had better pick it up--maybe if I eat it it will find its way back home.
After a rinse, I will lather, and repeat.
YEAH!@
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