The first stop on our adventure was São Luis, the capital of the state of Maranhão. We carefully collided our plans to be in São Luis with the final week of the Festas Juninas or June Festivals. While the Festas [a month long celebration of Saints Anthony, John and Peter] take on a country-flavour in most of the Northeast [square dancing, bonfires, and lots of Forró], in São Luis the festivities has been partnered with the celebration of Bumba Meu Boi - Dance My Ox.
From an earlier blog ...
Bumba Meu Boi is a popular folk festival throughout Brazil and is roughly based on a legend about Catrina and her husband Francisco. While variations of the story exist, the basic premise is that Catrina is pregnant and craves ox tongue. Of course, not only does she crave tongue, she graves the tongue of the star bull of the landowner's herd. Her husband, Francisco, kills the bull and presents the tongue to Catrina. When the dead [or in some versions, badly wounded] bull is discovered, the landowner is outraged [in some versions, Catrina and Francisco are slaves while in others Catrina is the goddaughter of the landowner] and orders an investigation. Francisco is caught and brought to trial. In order to save Francisco, a slew of Native and African curandeiros and shamans are summoned and through a series of dances and rituals succeed in bringing the bull back to life. Thus Francisco is saved and the ordeal ends with a massive community celebration and dance.
Arriving in São Luis, we weren't sure what to expect. But, living up to its reputation, the festival was truly amazing. Close to seventy-five different groups and communities from São Luis and other Maranhense towns converge on the capital in a blur of music, colours, enchanting rhythms and meticuously prepared bois and costumes in which they reenact the story of Catrina, Francisco and the boi.
The groups perform at arraiais -- or fairground spaces -- across the city, often lasting until the very wee hours of the morning [we left one arraial at 3am only to find the one near our hotel still going strong for several more hours; thank goodness for earplugs....]. The Bumba troops are composed of all ages -- young children to weathered and wrinkled grannies and granpas -- and dance for hours. Similar to the samba schools of Rio, the troops' costumes [for both the people and the bois] are prepared every year and are usually beaded or sequined tributes to the Saints and/or Brazilian scenes. This year, the costumes offered a strange mixture of Saint John, Ronaldo, Ronaldinho and Zé Roberto.
We're not quite sure how Saint John came to be associated with a celebration involving dead cows, african shamans, and indigenous dancing girls [and this year, Brazilian Footballers], but no doubt it was an effort to synchronise an already existing festival around the Christian calendar.
Picture and video taking were fairly challenging due to the dark night, fast movement and strong back-lighting, but here are two short clips which give a flavour of the events.
Clip 1
Clip 2
