I spent last Carnaval at my mother's house in Salvador (in the northeastern state of Bahia) with my husband, my daughter and some American friends, one of whom was Adrian. Well, Adrian is an American with a degree in International Relations from Berkeley, who did not know about Brazil and little by little fell in love with our land. Last year he had spent a few months traveling between Rio and Salvador and he learned some Portuguese at that time.
A week before Carnaval there was a lavagem (washing of a church followed by a street party) in Santo Amaro da Purificação, the town where renowned composer and singer Caetano Veloso was born. I love Caetano and since for the finale of the lavagem there was going to be a show with Caetano, Gilberto Gil, Elba Ramalho, Timbalada, and others, we -- my husband, Adrian and myself -- decided to go to Santo Amaro.
What a confusão (mess)! We couldn't find any vacant hotel, and in the end, after walking around the city for many hours, the man from the store at the corner of the main stage offered us a place at the heart of the party. We didn't care that the place was being painted, and we didn't complain that our only amenity was two mattresses on the floor, after all, all we cared about was the show.
We went to eat some muqueca (regional spicy dish) in one of the food shacks, and since we were talking in English, two girls from São Paulo decided to approach us. They worked in movies. We talked for a while and they were coming on to Adrian, but they had leave to find Rodrigo, Caetano's brother. According to them, they were supposed to spend the night at Dona Canô (Ceatano's mother) house. They came back a little later and took Adrian with them to see the show closer. That's when we got separated. The show was wonderful!
My husband and I slept on the mattress. We were supposed to return very early in the morning to Salvador, since my 9-month-old daughter needed my care as soon as possible. Adrian did not come back to share the mattress, so we assumed he had spent the night at the Veloso's home with the Paulista girls. We went there and talked to Dona Canô who told us that there were lots of people sleeping there, but she was not sure if there was an American guy among them.
At that time, 8 A.M., she was the only one awake. We decided to have some breakfast and come back later. The only place open was the bus station. Over breakfast we started wondering what might have happened to Adrian. "Should we look for him at the hospital or police station," I asked my husband. "No, he must be sleeping with the Paulistas," was his answer.
By the way, Adrian is a dark-skinned American who had darkened his skin even more after a week at the beach. While we were talking about what to do, a policeman came in for coffee and more for peace of mind's sake I started talking with him about my American friend. To my utter surprise, he told us that there was a guy in jail, a liar, who insisted that he was an American. We ran to the police station, but it was Sunday, and the only person there was a sleeping man. We woke him up, but he could neither solve nor inform anything.
We ended up finding out that Adrian was really in jail. There was some kind of mêlée during the show and they arrested him, the Paulista girls, and others. Everyone was taken to the police station and released, but Adrian didn't have any document. He explained that he was an American, and that he was without his passport because he was afraid of losing it, and that he had left his documents in Salvador. The delegado (police chief) did not believe that he was American, because he doesn't have blond hair and blue eyes. Since he speaks Portuguese, though haltingly, they thought that he might be pretending and could even be a wanted criminal.
According to Adrian, the delegado even asked him some questions about the United States, like who was the President, and details about the constitution. In spite of all his right answers the delegado said that he had everything wrong, and ordered him taken from the police module directly to the police station. All of this I only found out later. At the time nobody informed me of anything. I had to walk around the city looking for the delegado's house since he doesn't work on Sundays.
It was very hard to convince the delegado to come to the window, but we succeeded, but despite our explanation he still wouldn't believe that the guy was American. Well, Adrian spent a night and a day in a cell like a true criminal. The cell only had cardboard on the floor and a hole to answer the call of nature. Insects were all over. He was also roughed up to tell the truth, since he stuck with the story that he was American. Another thing: the delegado didn't let him make the phone call that every person arrested has the right to make. He could have called Salvador, and someone could have brought the documents immediately. Salvador is less than an hour away from Santo Amaro.
Despite the crazy experience, which gave him a file at the Brazilian police, Adrian loved Bahia, and went to see Gil on July 22, in San Francisco, California. As for going back to Brazil he seems ready and willing as soon as there is another chance to jump on a south-bound plane.