I was in the middle of the muvuca that followed the Charanga do France on Monday (3), in Santa Cecilia, and behind me, a street vendor sold Kiro, a delicious gasified drink made with ginger, apple juice and other ingredients.
It was almost undone in the sea of beer and mate (rum diluted with lemon and mate tea, mainly) offered by the street vendors, in addition to the other birinations brought by the revelers themselves.
Kiro’s corporate history, a mix that is called switchel and positioned by its creators as a drink “for alcohol adults”, is worth known, because it is against the very rooted cultural habit of consuming alcoholic beverages all the time, “in joy and sadness”, as Roberto Meirelles says, one of the founders of the brand, which Kiro quixoticly turned.
The street vendor in the middle of the Charanga probably chose a bad staff, which must have hampered the spawning of the cans even more. He said, “Look at the salad.”
I compare the street carnival, which in Sao Paulo is still in its tips, but is already beginning to create deep relationship with the new generations – these daughters to say – with what is for me one of the most positive effects of race. As we run, we enjoyed the city, we make it something really enjoyable. In a sense, we conquered it.
You can say that this is also possible when we stroll with the dog or when we give a bike band – the argument. But the race has already said it here, allows us to gain more and more autonomy. Instead of driving a park, which seems to me to be contradicted, the activity allows, more than the park, the displacement to it is already enjoyed, part of the game.
But I get lost a little here. What I meant is that carnival, and the occupation of the streets by people, is in a sense a release of the oppression of the car, this protagonist of the Brazilian metropolises, which for him were effective and unfortunately thought.
I remember when I first went to the Minhocão for the first time, and I was surprised by the old busy bus, boiling, many people from the surrounding buildings, totally lacking in leisure spaces. In a completely insane key, I visualized something like the day after the Hecatombe – without machines, people took the streets.
Despite the tone of science fiction, it was a vision, as it is now, potent.
Finally, I regret that the revelers feel the need to fill their faces. For me it is more than enough to join thousands of other carnivals to dance and jump marches, sambas and axé, a genre immune to cynicism and negativity (try this verse: “Today I am happy and singing/ just because of you).” Especially in the morning, where there should or should be a psychological and moral barrier to biging.
Perhaps most revelers have not really experienced endorphin. Although the combination of running with beer is not that extravagant, it’s great size if we stay, as another band from Bahia says in mineral water.
Or on Switchel.
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