As mentioned on our call last week, all is not well in the marble halls of Brasilia, with Lula getting sworn in as Chief of Staff on Thursday (pretty transparently to avoid a federal investigation), only to be sworn out again minutes later by Judge Buzz Killington, PC - nothing's happened since then as far as I can tell, but word on the street is he's done for as soon as Operation Carwash starts up again. Even my boss has given up on him, which is saying something.
It's a political rollercoaster so engrossing that the nation has stopped watching the novelas and instead hangs on the anchorman's every word. Pots and pans are at the ready for whenever Dilma appears onscreen. The government is offering $R30, a ham sandwich and a free ride into town to participate in pro-PT rallies. Social media is absolutely unbearable.
He went on to become absolutely massive off the back of two hits, both of which are basically one long and annoyingly catchy chorus - "Aquele 1%" extols the virtues of pulling everyone and being generally naughty, while "Camarote" is specifically about having a great time at a club while the "worst woman in the world" who spurned him watches on wistfully from the VIP area. At one point he mentions drinking "gela" and "Cîroc" (beer and vodka, respectively), which I heard as "gelo" and "xarope" (Ribena on ice) - such a rubbish drink to order at a nightclub that I felt genuinely sorry for him and missed the point of the song entirely until I had it explained to me.
It's a political rollercoaster so engrossing that the nation has stopped watching the novelas and instead hangs on the anchorman's every word. Pots and pans are at the ready for whenever Dilma appears onscreen. The government is offering $R30, a ham sandwich and a free ride into town to participate in pro-PT rallies. Social media is absolutely unbearable.
I also got to the bottom of why photos of the protests on the Avenida Paulista invariably feature a large inflatable duck: it belongs to a protest group called "Não Vou Pagar o Pato", or "I will not pay the duck" - a fantastic expression for taking the fall for other people's (in this case, the government's) misdeeds.
Apart from that, and a plane crashing into a house next to our local airfield, nothing has really happened of note since my last e-mail. So I will instead devote the rest of this one to an in-depth study of Wesley Safadão, the ubiquitous sertanejo pop sensation with a silly name (roughly = "Wesley Naughty").
I first became aware of him when he opened for even-more-ubiquitous sertanejo pop sensations Luan Santana and Jorge & Mateus at the annual Vila Mix festival down the road, on account of his afore-mentioned silly name, silly hair, silly clothes and the fact that he would constantly get the crowd to chant his own silly hashtag (#vaisafadao).
He went on to become absolutely massive off the back of two hits, both of which are basically one long and annoyingly catchy chorus - "Aquele 1%" extols the virtues of pulling everyone and being generally naughty, while "Camarote" is specifically about having a great time at a club while the "worst woman in the world" who spurned him watches on wistfully from the VIP area. At one point he mentions drinking "gela" and "Cîroc" (beer and vodka, respectively), which I heard as "gelo" and "xarope" (Ribena on ice) - such a rubbish drink to order at a nightclub that I felt genuinely sorry for him and missed the point of the song entirely until I had it explained to me.
I downloaded one of his albums to put on the car iPod, at Gaby's request; turns out it's a live album in which he sings the first line of each song and then lets the audience (who aren't picked up by any microphones and are therefore completely silent on the recording) do the rest. It's so bad that I've provisionally vetoed going to his landmark gig at Villa Country next month (going to see José Gonzalez instead, which I'm sure will just as riotously fun). I also caught this painfully awkward exposé on Brazilian TV, following him on his first US tour as he wanders around Times Square and explains who he is to bemused tourists.
Despite his obvious awfulness I have a soft spot for old Wesley, and even took steps to dress up as him for a Carnaval event last month that we ended up not going to - I still have a wig, waistcoat and fake microphone should the occasion arise, although I have a feeling he will be completely forgotten by the next one. He may even be past it now, I mean I'm not exactly a lightning rod for Brazilian culture...
Next week - FP investigates Fred's post-World Cup career as a national pariah who is somehow still allowed to play football in Brazil, and tries to figure out exactly what's going on here. Plus it's Easter, so we may be up to something at the weekend, with talk of going to Curitiba, the country's greenest city. Watch this space...
Love,
Frod
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