And then there\’s the Brazilians…..

The town square, roughly the size of George Square in Glasgow, or The Circle in Indianapolis was packed with Brazilians adorned in their yellow jerseys in preparation for the game with Cameroon. The closest I can come to describing the atmosphere is the approach to Hampden Park Glasgow when Scotland plays England. But that doesn’t come close to doing it justice. It seemed the entire city, and I mean the entire city, had stopped to put on their yellow jerseys and follow the game.

But something nagged at me. It was kind of like Hampden but …… different.  At least 50% of the crowd were women and children. This was a family outing to the town center to watch a football match. As game time approached, we were hemmed in amongst the crowd in temperatures of 90F and 90% humidity. It was hot! We were pressed from all directions but, suddenly, the press relaxed, the pushing stopped, and the people around us magically engineered a wide path through the crowd. An old lady (I wouldn’t have been surprised if they\’d told me she was 100!)  dressed in full Brazilian football kit, was gently guided along the path by two women, apparently her daughters. The elders of the town, the new borns and everyone else turned out to see the game. It was a very special occasion.

The game itself was magical. Every pass, flick, shot and goal was cheered with unbridled enthusiasm. Winning and if, as a consequence they won, then so be it!

By half time the claustrophobic heat in the town square was too much and we sought sanctuary down a shady side road off the square. Most importantly we needed to rehydrate. I queued at the first stall for 15 minutes before someone pointed out that the little wizened old black dude serving the drinks was totally wasted. Well of course he was! So, we moved further down the road and found a bar. Except it wasn’t really a bar. It was pretty much someone’s front room where he\’d brought in a few cases of beer and a wide screen TV (Elaine: think le plus grand agricole du San Pompon). So, we settled in and basically became a part of his Brazilian family for the next hour. Not really sure if Mira was his wife or not, but she was certainly the center of attention and made us feel so at home.

Our extended group was made up of a young family from Missouri; a couple new NYC graduates and one of their girlfriends from West Virginia; a couple of Canadians; and miscellaneous Brazilians whose connection to the bar was unclear. they were just there for the love of the game.

Apparently, Brazil won 4 to 1. I only know this because Mira ran round after the game holding four fingers of one hand and one finger of the other. But Brazil, and I mean ALL of Brazil was happy beyond belief. THIS is what they live for. I\’ve heard the stories but here witnessed the passion that is Brazilian football.

As the sun went down behind the Theatre des Amazonas, and we headed back to our hotel, the Brazilian party was only just starting. The indigenous dancers danced, children played in the streets and families gathered around their picnic tables. I felt a sense of intrusion and finally was somewhat glad to leave the people of Manaus to their revelry. An amazing people, an amazing day in an amazing place.