A experiência cultural

Loud applause echoed in the room. The minute-taker closed her laptop, and the very last speaker set down his microphone. GeoHab 2015 was over. 

The last day of the conference ended with a general business meeting, and I think by the time it was all over, we were glad to stand up and move around. Listening to presentations all day is a great way to network and communicate science, but it's not exactly the best for cardiovascular health. Our attentions spans were ready for a break. 

I hung around in the conference hall for quite a while, chatting, taking business cards, writing down my e-mail address for anyone who asked. Sometimes, it feels like a conference ends just as I'm getting to know everyone, and I have to say that's the case for GeoHab. Nevertheless, I've made some great connections, and I look forward to seeing these colleagues again. 

I had already arranged with several Brazilian conference attendees to accompany them for dinner and dancing that evening. I looked forward to seeing a bit more of the city and experiencing the Brazilian culture. Well, experience the culture I did, and it was quite an eye-opening night. 

The fourth-floor cafe of Salvador's most random building
Our first stop was a cultural center along the beach on the eastern side of Salvador, and it is possibly one of the most random buildings I've ever been in. The bar on the ground floor was covered with psychedelic graffiti in cool blues and greens. Affixed to the walls were various parts of disassembled chairs and randomly-placed lamps lacking lightbulbs. We made our way to the building’s central staircase, which was wooden but painted bright yellow. As we climbed higher, we passed exactly one room on each of the narrow building’s four stories. Floor 2 was an intimate concert venue, where an electric cello duo was  performing something folksy and dissonant. Floor 3 was a movie theater, but the walls and ceiling beams were covered in all sorts of hats. The feature film for the evening was as far as I could tell about police brutality in the western hemisphere in the 1960s. Finally, we reached the top floor and found a shoebox-sized café with paper lanterns for lighting. A glass wall separated the indoor café from the adjacent terrace, and I imagine the view from the terrace must be beautiful in the daytime. In the glow of the streetlights below, I could see a sandy beach and breaking waves separated from the street by a vertical rock wall. On the far side of the street, just inside the wall, was a soccer field, where about 20 teenagers were engrossed in a pick-up game. In front of the soccer field, a lone man squatted behind a bright yellow cooler of beer, which I can only assume he was hoping to sell to the passers-by.

We ordered dinner and chatted for several hours in a combination of English and Portuguese. I was still hoping to dance, so when one of the Brazilians asked if I was ready to move to another bar, I was happy enough to oblige. Anywhere with music would do. 

The samba band that made my night.
We headed down the street to a bar that was offering live Brazilian music. A couple people in our group informed me that the music was typical of Rio de Janeiro, not Bahia, because it contained mostly samba rhythms. The group settled in at a table, but it wasn't long until I started itching to move. After all, one does not simply listen to samba music. I asked one of the men across the table to dance, and let me tell you, Brazilian men can dance. I actually have very little experience with Latin dance styles, even though I've done ballet forever, so it was different for me to have to follow someone else. My dance partner used his hand on my low back to steer me in different directions, and I did all I could to follow his feet. A couple of times, I got spun around with little to no warning, and I would lose rhythm for a second or two. Somehow, it all worked out. Man, I love to dance.


When the music finished at 3 am, I figured it would be time to go home, but my companions informed me otherwise: nights out in Brazil last until sunrise. To be frank, I just don't have the stamina to keep up in this country, so I packed myself in a cab and went to the hotel. It was a long but fantastic night, and I got a pretty darn comprehensive Brazilian cultural experience. This place is nothing short of marvelous.

Comments