Shake that ass for me shake that ass for me

So here we go: the legendary party on sunday. For the local brazilian it probably was just like any other party but with two random gringas joining, for me.....on the other hand it was...lets say that it was different than anything that I've experianced.

Trip 1:So at 2 PM we left our cosy little apartment to join a goodbye party for one of the capoeira guy who was about to travel to Germany. Without knowing where or how to get to the place we jumped on the bus....and it was boiling. A bus trip in 37 degrees without AC is sweaty to say the least. After some help from a lovely lady on the bus we managed to jump off at the right place, the clothes stuck to our body from the sweating...nice. Then we started walking and walking and walking, stopping every now and then to ask how to get to this street. "Go straight, then to the right and then straight and then to the left and then you´ll come to that street". Great ok, so we did...and found ourself walking basically in the favela...good thing that it was daytime but we were still aware of where we were. We found the right housenumber but then again we found no people...after trying to call some people we gave up and decided that some food and trip 2 would be our only option.

Food mission: I'm not gonna say the food here is crap, cause that would be a lie but I'm also not gonna say that it's great, at least not if you're a leafeating rabbit like myself. But in the end we found this "arabic" resturant. If my family from lebanon would have gone there and had the hoummus and tabuleh that we got....they would have put the place out of business at that moment. It was shite....sorry for the language, but really it was. But it was food and now we had energy to continue our journey to the other place that we had no idea were was. Namely the birthday party.

Trip 2: Now we were supposed to somehow get to the second party....after we had waited for the bus (at the wrong place) for about 10 min our guide through the phone told us to just take a taxi. Done...we went on the taxi but then the taxidriver wasnt sure where the place was. After the driver and the phone guide had exchanged some information in between them (in a very loud manner, I dont understand when people shout on the phone) it seemed that we would get where ever we were supposed to go. But..no. Driver called his friend who also wasnt quite sure about the location so he suggested that the driver would just bring us to his place.....WHAT? Ok, so he was a joker. We made it there...finally.

Party: And this is were the whole thing took a rather funny, amuzing, sassy kinda turn. The party was on the top floor (kinda lika balcony if you can call it that) of the house of the family of the birthday boy who goes by the name Lobisomem (which means wolf or something). The view was amazing. And there were only locals there....shit and my portugese sucks bad. But as most of you know I'm a fan of attention and the two gringas definatly got some attention.
In the beginning we kinda just stood there...I wasn't quite sure where to put my hands nor how to place my legs. In fact..I had no idea how to behave or act or what to do. First of all it seemed as me and Miss Frida were in a winterparty compared to the other girls, who were wearing something that reminds of clothes but one wouldnt really call it clothes....they simply didn't cover enough to go by that name. Second of all our curves were very very poor compared to the others. In fact...I looked more like a 10 year old who went to the wrong birthdayparty. Then we got some beers (and they by the way kept on coming for the whole evening and night) and as you know beers makes you loosen up a bit; remark that I say a bit. At this point serious ass shaking and posing for cameras started. Now, I consider myself to be...well how will I put this...I'm not sure. Anyway....these girls in their small outfits with boobs and bums trying to escape the material on them, seriously know how to shake. I just stood there thinking...."How is this even possible". Going all the way down and then staying there shaking their body like there was no tomorrow and then up again and shaking there and then left and right and south and west.
And the beer kept on coming...now my courage to speak portugese had appeared and though it was wrong in every single way I kept on babbling (well a bit) while still keeping my eye on the dance scenario going on. At one point I was pulled out to the dancefloor because "You cannot stay in Brazil without learning samba", so I tried...but I've got an issues with following the gentlemen...I'm more of a leader. As the night proceeded me and Miss Frida had various dance lessons....then the beer was over.

Beerless...not possible. So off we went with some friends on beer and nutrient mission. Pizza and beer was the choice of nutrition and if I remember correctly I even think there was football on in the TV (yes, there is tv in every single resturant). More beers and at one point Miss Frida went out to buy some smokes, next thing I know she's waving to me holdin a machine gun in her other hand.....Turns out she had met some policemen outside and they were kind enough to let her try on the gun....whoohaa!

After eating and sipping we went on to a Baila-Funk party. O wow....what can I say! I can imagine what you're thinking when I say funk party, well let your mind wander 100 miles beyond that and you might be slightly on the right way. It was: hot, sweaty, horny, wet and there was a dress code: wear as little as possible. We ordered buckets of bears (to keep hydrated) and here we got a privat lesson from Lobisomems sister on all the dancestyles: funk (rubbing against the other gender, basically..well with some hip twisting and turning), samba and the story goes on. She was a mega master in the whole thing and pretty good teacher as well and on top of all that she was super sweet and pretty. We stayed in the baila-funk party for three hours and for three hours we danced, drank beer that got evaporated almost immediatly from our skin and more or less tried to behave like a real carioca....ah., well dont know about that. Because it was so late when we finally left the place we stayed at Lobisomems place. Apparantly it's not a good idea to take a taxi at 6 in the morning.
The trip home on monday morning was dreadful...it was so warm, the hangover was so bad, the trip took 2,5 hours and the busdriver drove like he had gotten his bloody driving licence on the internet. But we made it and the last steps to our lovely apartment were like the last steps of this life. Monday was spent half unconcious in bed with the fan on full until it was time for a training. I lie not when I say that my sweat probably tasted like beer after that training.

In the end I must admit that I enjoyed the whole scenario. It's fun to be able to go out, let your hair down and shake and swing (and lets be honest here, it's done in a different way here than in europe). Brazilians know how to party, that's for sure. And the key words: hot, sweat, shake and rub!!