When I first heard the Bloodhound gang sing “you and me baby aint nothin but mammal, so let’s do it like they do on the discovery channel” in 1999 I had no idea that this lyric would return to me two decades later in Rio De Janeiro. Surrounded by bikini clad, diamanté-faced women, capping off their outfits with fishnet stockings and glitter, followed by bronzed, muscly men with chiselled jaw lines and well-manicured beards I found myself taking a leap into the unknown, chaotic jungle of Carnaval. A celebration of life, love and happiness, Carnaval brings people from all over the world together as one. Peeling back all the stereotypes, prejudices and social stigmas to show people at their rawest. When you wind back mankind’s genetic makeup you realise, ultimately we really “aint nothin but mammal” and Carnaval is the perfect picture to paint of how amazing humanity can be when we forget the social norms and go about life in a loving, animalistic way.
Animals don’t judge others for what they wear. Animals don’t judge others for their sexual preferences. Animals don’t look at gender or skin colour and decide not to talk to them or help them. When an animal wants to drink, it drinks. When an animal wants to go somewhere new, it goes somewhere new. When an animal needs to pee, it pees. Life is simple when you’re an animal. Thankfully Carnaval takes us back to that very same primitive party.
Whether on the famous beach of Copacabana or in the downtown party region of Lapa there will be a blocco (street party) nearby. Some people dress up and some people dress down, but most importantly people wear what makes them happy. Vendors selling all manner of colourful party costumes and accessories litter the streets of Rio infecting everyone in the city with a fix of frivolity. The drinks flow from early in the morning until late at night with no sign of ever running out. Thirsts are quenched by people walking through the parties with cool-boxes full of beer and ice on trolleys stimulating not just the party but the economy as well. It’s almost impossible not to find at least one person selling drinks within 15 meters of each other. Led by a moving stage (or truck) filled with musicians and dancers in large, elaborate costumes the masses move to the beat of drums through a city that is on pause for a week. Mouths get a workout from all the laughing, singing, drinking and kissing. Afterall, It’s a time of love. Guys kiss girls, guys kiss guys, girls kiss girls and the unidentified kiss whoever they please. To look around and see such openness and appreciation of life is captivating. The connection and comradery branches further than a fling for sexual gain. With people drinking in the streets there is always going to be a shortage of toilets. Rather than look down on those who can hold it no longer, support comes thick and fast to help each other gain some form of modesty as the seal is broken. Not all heroes wear capes they say, but it is handy to have a friend with one when coverage is needed during the more vulnerable times.
Vulnerability is often a concern not just when it comes to bladder function but also in term of mass intoxication. Adding copious amounts of alcohol to Brazil’s already dangerous reputation could lead to a fear that Carnaval would be unsafe, especially for women, but the people of Rio have bound together to provide a respectful standard of party. Women feel far safer during this time than in the past due to greater awareness and protection, not just from police but also society.
Having attended five separate bloccos, I was incredibly impressed by the level of respect every person had for each other regardless of age, colour or gender. The animalistic voice inside telling us to do what makes us happy and be who we want to be was ever present. We partied, we drank, we ate, we loved, we laughed, we shared, we kissed, we peed, and we played, but the point of it all is that we lived.