baile funk

My first few weeks in Rio, people talked about going to these things called a "baile funk" that take place in various favelas. I'd vaguely remembered a scene in Cidade de Deus (City of God) that took place at some giant party with walls lined with speakers. I also remembered that one of the characters got shot at one. So, naturally, with my pidgin Portuguese skills and still rocking my American pale-ness, I was like...maybe next time. For a number of weeks.

Upon returning from my mini-vacation to Buenos Aires (who takes a vacation from a vacation?), now I forget how, but I was totally peer pressured into attending one of these baile funks. And now I'm hooked. It's hard to paint a picture but I'll try. First of all, let me just complain say that Brazilians do not dance with each other. Now after the enlightening "girly pizza party," I understand that it's because dancing = I will have sex with you, so it's a little more understandable. But it's frustrating! Because we gringas look like prostitutes when we dance compared to Brazilians. So you can imagine my joy when I found the one place where I looked downright prim and proper compared to how the women at the baile's were acting/dancing.

They're held in one of the larger favelas of Rio, Rocinha, every Sunday night. Lucky for me, my school is a joke and I only have class Tuesday/Thursday, which leaves Monday wide open for recovery. The bailes are held in a parking garage (I think?) that is emptied out and they play bumpin music. Off on the side there's a bar selling ridiculously cheap beer/caipirinhas (and when I say "ridiculously cheap," I really mean fairly priced. As opposed to everything else in Rio) and then a huge mob of sweaty people dancing to funk. This is not the kind of funk you're thinking of.
Here's my favorite "funk" song

Then, around 3 or so, is when you head to the after party. Well, technically first on our agenda is always stopping for chicken nuggets. At 4 for 1 real (about 67 cents), they're pretty epic at 3 in the morning when you need to refuel. The after party is outdoors, and is just a continuation of some funkyyy music. There's a wall of speakers and (don't read any further momma!) usually a fleet of guards walking around with AKs..."protecting" us. We're usually home by around 6, and I inevitably wake up around noon and look in horror at my mud-splattered feet and legs. And then promptly head down the street for a fresh agua de coco (coconut water, nature's hangover cure. Seriously, try it).

Sometimes, life doesn't feel real here.