eggs and dance

many great things come from the favela's, like lively carnaval, certain fashion (http://www.daspu.com.br/putique/ - a fashion brand for/from prostitutes) and.. well, a lot of other things too.
the latest trend to have arrived from the favela's on the main streets is a music style called baile funk. (apparantly it has even made it to the top of the charts in holland: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0SOx2GkLqM)
now i happen to be living on a main street. and one night the baile funk indeed made it there.

the boyfriend and i had gone out that day for a late lunch with a delightful friend of ours. she is funny and sweet and witty and full of stories and funny little observations.
she has lovely red curly hair, just as jumpy and happy as she herself is.
and this day she was thirsty too.
and when a girl drinks it would be impolite to let her drink alone. so we joined her for a few beers over lunch. however the boyfriend and i had set ourselves one task that day: to buy tickets for manu chao's concert next week.
so after lunch the three of us set out to accomplish this task, which luckily turned out to be rather easy. nontheless we felt we deserved to celebrate our fine achievement and so we had some more drinks. we watched the friendly match italy-brasil in a local establishment. the fact that my new fatherland won added to our joy. and what made it even better was that there was 1 italian present in the bar, who quickly took of his azzuri t shirt after the match to change it for a more neutral looking shirt. oh, there is nothing like schadenfreude.
in the end we got home at around half past ten, ready for bed.

and then there was the baile funk.
the block behind our apartment building is a little maze of improvised houses and sheds and car parks and other structures with less defined functions. in a way a miniature favela. so it should be no surprise that there would be a baile funk there.
we could not only hear the baile funk (rather hard not to hear it), but we could also see it. some 10 people had gathered on a balcony, dancing, drinking and talking loudly over the music. plenty children there too. shouldn't they be in bed? well, i guess it makes no sense to put them to bed with music playing like that...
the boyfriend and i got rather annoyed by this completely selfish party (they least they could have done was to invite us). and so i started yelling from our balcony in my best portuguese that they should stop the music. stop the fucking music even. stop for fuck´s sake. yes, this vocabulary i have quickly picked up here.
the boyfriend does not like shouting too much. he wanted to resort to different measures. and so there he was at the balcony holding an egg.
'should i throw it?', he wondered.
'sure', i said 'you won´t make it to them anyhow'
'yes i will'
'no you won´t'
the boyfriend was in doubt. i had dared him ofcourse. but i was also genuinely convinced he could not throw the egg that far. the boyfriend believed -and still believes- he could have. he was mainly concerned about hitting one of the children.
after plenty deliberations and plenty more yelling from my part, the boyfriend decided to do the civilized thing: call the police.

then out of the blue the baile funk ended. did the police arrive? did the yelling work? i think they were simply done with their little explosion of joy and went home.
silence returned; well, silence... now at least we could hear that stupid dog barking again. and the cars. and the airco of the hospital nearby.

as we were a little bit peckish i decided to make an omelette. much better use for eggs than throwing them at the neighbours.