The lilting twang and buzz of the berimbau called the players to action. Although Capoeira, as a very real system of attack and defense, can be lethal, the atmosphere in a roda is usually affectionate and playful. Capoeiristas delight in being surprised by their wily opponents' strategies, grinning slyly, giving a thumbs-up sign or a slap on the back in tribute. Capoeristas pair off, crouch beneath the berimbaus, bless themselves, and touch or hold each other's hands before launching into the center. Once there, they resemble felines dodging, tumbling, cartwheeling, backflipping out of reach of each other's kicking, slicing moves, gradually building speed and closeness of attack.
Legs scissor in the air and slide over the opponent's bending back with musicality and precision.
As the speed increases, the agile bodies seem to be weaving in the air, and there's less and less margin for error. He asserts that the player must maintain awareness of this sphere and preserve its integrity, controlling the inner space of it, the timing of each centrifugal movement to be unleashed from it. This intuitive timing is one of Capoeira's most breathtaking elements and what makes this spontaneous sparring a dancerly art. With many more women now entering the ranks of Capoeira students, it's thrilling to see the best of them fervently throw themselves into the game, time and again, every bit as hungry for it as the men, getting in close, going on the attack, easily taking on the higher-ranked players or the masters. As I watched one particularly gutsy woman warrior spar with each of several eager male opponents or another whose innate, juicy musicality made everyone in the roda smile, I wondered when we will see women mestres.