December 31, 2014

Mom gets through her surgery; my doctor calls with eye advice, and we prepare for the big night on Copacabana beach, with 2,000,000 of our fellow Cariocas (Carioca is what residents of Rio are called) We wear white, as is the custom, and weather various impediments– late bus in Urca with a bad transmission and/or a bad driver, then a bus-car collision going about 2 mph in a traffic jam in an unfamiliar area of town. Luckily we get to wait out the police-check with seats and air-conditioning– watching hordes and hordes of people on foot pass by heading our direction. Finally we arrive at our intended destination, starving, about an hour later than planned, on the beach in front of the Copacabana Palace. Pictured above, our dinner is cooking. On the left, a snapshot of what happens at midnight, for 16 straight minutes. Wow. Fireworks from 5 barges out at sea with unbelievable variety and intensity. Even P, who thinks fireworks are boring after about 5 minutes, is amazed. Perhaps the loveliest thing about the evening, though, is the spirit of the crowd– that includes lots of children, babies, teens, grandparents, partiers, penitents with arms full of white flowers to throw into the sea for Iemanja. Everyone seems glad, if tired, and, incredibly, there is plenty of space for us all. Although we are on the beach, we are still thousands of people away from the water, so we decide to postpone the jumping-7-waves-for-7-wishes for tomorrow and head with the throng back down Av. Nossa Senhora de Copacabana toward the tunnel that will take us, walking, back home.