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Carnaval Sunday: The Prince of Porcelain

Rio de Janeiro Travel Blog › entry 1 of 2 › view all entries

Many of you will pass through Rio for a week or a month or two. Many of you will start fantasizing about living here and wondering what it would be like. I have been here for seven years. Here are some slices of life in Rio de Janeiro.

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Carnaval Sunday: The Prince of Porcelain

February 3, 2008

Crazy Aussie Dave and the Security at the Garota de Ipanema

We decided to go to dinner at the Garota de Ipanema restaurant, a landmark in Ipanema -- being associated with the song and all. Plus they have the best picanha (thin sliced top sirlion roast) in town (ask for "picanha brasileira" - you grill it at your table).

I suggested that after dinner we should head for a "bloco" - which is what they call the local neighborhood groups that organize to celebrate Carnaval (the correct spelling here in case you wonder why I keep misspelling it).

Turns out that there was a bloco right outside the restaurant and that we got the best seat in the house to see the whole bloco. So we stayed all night eating, drinking, taking pictures and - for me - becoming the "Prince of Porcelain".

Prince of Porcelain declined to help.

Now you may think you can guess why I earned such a title, but no, it was not because I was prostrate on my knees before the toilet...no, not me (well, not this time anyhow).

You see those two big guys in black t-shirts with my friend Dave (Green tank top--see his blog at "zulu928".) They are security guys at the restaurant. No one gets in unless they say OK, and with a couple thousand people on the street and the restaurant being jammed, well no one was getting by these guys.

The first thing I did when we got in was tip these guys R$5 each so that we could change to a better table ("No, you can't change! But....."). Little did I know what an investment that was.

At our new table we were right at the the open window taking pictures.

More lives saved by the Prince of Porcelain

As the evening wore on and people on the street drank more and more, the women out there started having a problem -- no where to go to the bathroom.

Well pretty soon it became known that there was a Gringo at the window who spoke Portuguese, and so the FLOOD started. The guys at the door got tipped three more times during the evening and about 10 women felt that their life had been saved and even started giving me gifts of parts of their costumes.

That might have triggered Dave to dubbing me the Prince of Porcelain, but there was yet another step.

Now, take a look at the picture of the guy with the red hair wig and the feather mask. He came up and in his best broken and drunken English asked, "Do you know who I am?" Well, no, I certainly did not. "Well, I want to tell you" says he slurssssss. Then, speaking very slowly and seriously he announces that he is, "The God of the Pain in the Head".

Ahhh, so he's the headache God...always wondered....

So, shortly thereafter a pantheon was in the making with the God of Headaches, the Prince of Porcelain and ....who knows.