Brazil in mid-summer is hot. My wife and I needed to escape the summer doldrums, and so we found a place up the highway where the folks are making music the old way. After reading about a festival of Congo musicians in the local paper, a trip to Timbui up the highway was in store to check it out. In front of the country church, a converging marching band were preparing to parade. Around a street fire, men began playing heavy rhythms, and women started to twirl in white dresses and wave big flags. A shout chorus of Portuguese lyrics lifted into the air telling of religious and agricultural folklore. Among the bands, burly men in harnesses rolled a huge fake boat through the streets ...
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