Yet they dance the dance of their mothers, all twisting torsos, flailing arms and West Side Story leaps. I believe the old dance must be passed on, like Dylan records, roach clips and favorite patchouli oils. Bear and I and my buddy, Craig, sip bottled water, enthralled by the goings on. SambaDa, a local band that plays musica brasileira, Brazilian music, fill the stage. The lead singer, Pabiba Godinho, rips on a nylon-stringed guitar.
Several percussionists thump out rhythms stage left.
Two women, in hip-huggers and blouses tied at midriff, sing back up. One woman also plays the saxophone. The women set the tone, dancing Brazilian style, hair flouncing to the tempo. And the crowd's happy. They dance without inhibition during the songs, and cheer and clap at songs' end.