19.  Ball at The May 13th Club

In Santos, on a Carnival night. From the windows of one of these old colonial houses that surround the José Bonifácio square would burst, like from the heart of Africa, enraged rhythms of tam-tam. It was the ball of the May 13th society.

Following the footsteps of two superb Baianas, I climbed up the stairs, but to bump into, at the entrance, the on-duty Janissary¹ . White people didn’t enter here.

I would insist, implore so much that, due to humbling myself, I managed to curb the strictness of the rule. I would not make any scandal, I would stay very quietly behind the balustrade that protected the ball, I would make just a few sketches and would decamp right after. They therefore authorized me to stay but not without having paid the right of entrance, two thousand reis. Believe me if you wish, but that night, that modest amount counted in my budget.

But, what a show! For these Negroes who, all year, would struggle in hard labors as transporters, launders, dockers, cooks, this carnival night, it was like a religious festivity to which, donning for a few hours sumptuous rags, they would participate, reliving unconsciously in their dances the ancestral rites of the African continent.
1. Turk soldier of the sultan’s personal guard.