Heat. Light. (In equal measures.) Passion-fruit
juice, fresh-blended. The acrid smell of kerosene solvent, rising from
newly washed tile sidewalks. The overburdened voice of soul crooner Tim
Maia, reaching for the high notes on his 1972 classic "Você."
The music of João Gilberto. The music of Gilberto
Gil. The wordless communion of prostitutes and German tourists drinking
caipirinhas on the Avenida Atlântica, along the beach at Copacabana,
in the city of Rio de Janeiro. The city of Brasília,
and its true creators. Carmen Miranda. Chacrinha.
Brasil Legal. "O Amuleto de Ogum" and certain other films by
Pereira dos Santos. One warm, chewy wad of cheese bread, please, and
a Coca Cola. Many many many songs by Caetano Veloso but especially "Terra"
(or maybe especially "Sampa", it's hard to say). Passion-fruit
juice, with sugar. The beach at Porto da Barra, Salvador, around three
o'clock on any weekday afternoon. The music.