18. Carnival folly

And Carnival? Contagious disease. I escaped from it nevertheless the first year of our Brazilian life. I would observe without understanding, astonished and a bit superior, these people who would wiggle at a cadence, harping on indefatigably the same jerky old tune.

But the following year, a friend took us almost by force in his convertible car. In these distant times, there were in Brazil only convertible cars, because of the Carnival Corso¹. And there we were off in the Corso.

I don’t know if the incubation period lasted minutes or hours, but I remember going home late, humming the song in vogue of that year, a bit delirious after having breathed the air charged with ether from the perfume-sprayers and arms tired after having, for hours, thrown serpentines and confetti on the blond and brunette beauties, blooming flower girls on the roofs of the cars surrounding us.

And I surprised myself at waiting impatiently for the next day to come to enter once more into the Folia. I had caught the Carnival virus.
1. A festive parade of decorated cars and costumed people.