The Proposal: In a Sultry, Sexy City

After leaving Costa Rica and all the great people I met in Tamarindo, I took a 15 hour bus ride from San Jose to Panama City. I had originally planned on spending more time in Panama but had a flight to catch: Panama to Caracas to RIO! I could hardly believe I was actually going to Rio de Janeiro, let alone to the biggest party on earth. It took over 24 hours of time spent in transit to get there. I arrived in Rio the night of February 19th and felt I must be dreaming.
My boyfriend, Eric, had been requesting that I text him when I got to the hotel. He had booked it for me as a Valentine’s Day surprise. Even though he couldn’t be there with me, it was still incredibly sweet of him to arrange a place to stay for me during the week I would be in Rio. I got up to the room and saw a bottle of champagne, candles, a present, and 2 cards on the table. One of the cards was from his children and the other was from him, saying he wants this to be the most romantic week of my life. He then texted me to open the door and, shaking, I did, to find him on one knee with a little black box! Undoubtedly the most romantic moment of my very un-romantic life, I was absolutely incredulous. One, that he had flown half way around the world to meet me here, and two, that he wants to marry me! That moment solidified the bond I always knew was present between the two of us but had never quite got up the nerve to confront. I didn’t know quite how I was supposed to act in this situation; life had left me totally unprepared.
The next week flew by in a blur. I was still in shock for the most part and woke up every morning not believing that Eric, my now fiancé, was lying next to me. The day after he arrived we set out into the frenzied streets of a city preparing for its’ biggest celebration, hand in hand, like children exploring a new world together. We celebrated our engagement at the Copacabana Palace Hotel, one of Rio’s luxury landmarks and a place I will forever associate with the beginning of our future together. I think we would have both been happy spending every waking minute together, which we did, but because of the place and time, we found ourselves attempting to immerse in the culture of Carnaval.
Known as cidade maravilhosa (marvellous city) Rio de Janeiro is the most stunning place I have ever seen. Lush, rainforest-covered mountains frame the neighbourhoods, rocky cliffs rise straight out of the crystal blue ocean, and silky white sand beaches cradle thousands of tanned and thong-wearing men and women. People of all shapes and sizes congregate on the beach and the attitude is refreshingly different from home. People seem to appreciate their bodies and those of others and are not ashamed to flaunt their natural beauty. The energy here is contagious and the people are beautiful. Everyone is smiling and partying because Rio is welcoming its’ yearly hedonistic celebration: Carnaval. Workers were boarding up shop fronts Friday afternoon and setting up bleachers in the street in preparation for the parades and street parties that began on Saturday and indeed, at 6 am Saturday morning we were awoken with the sounds of the makings of the first official parties of Carnaval. Centro’s Av Rio Branco, where we stayed, has turned into a different world. Music blares while people dressed in masks, fancy underwear, or as ghouls dance and drink in the street. Everything smells of urine, the downside of having thousands of drunk people congested into concrete spaces.
We enjoyed “A Night in Ibiza” at the famous Rio Scala nightclub where we expected a DJ, but instead got a samba band. People go absolutely crazy for this music and never seemed to stop dancing all night. On first listen, I could not understand the attraction, but as I let the beat move my body I began to understand. Samba overtakes you and shakes your whole body. The undertones of the music are primal and African-inspired and it was in fact the African slaves brought to Brasil by the Portugese who created the first sounds of samba in the country.
The culmination of Carnaval is the main parade on Sunday and Monday nights at the sambodromo, a facility built especially for these spectacular parades. There are twelve samba schools in Rio and each has their hour or so to perform on either night. We went on Monday and only lasted for three schools; while the stifling heat and crowds deterred us, the people in our section on the bleachers never stopped screaming and dancing. The crowds went mad when the queen of each school came out towards the end, after all the floats and sections of dancers had gone. These women are hands down the best entertainers. They shimmy and shake their way down the sambodromo on impossibly high heels, constantly smiling and exciting the crowd in outfits revealing perfect physiques. The time and training that goes into becoming a dancer of this realm is unimaginable and I am in awe.
Much too soon, our week in paradise has ended. We rode a cable car up the Pao de Acucar (Sugar Loaf) and enjoyed its’ views of the gorgeous city at sunset and climbed up to the Cristo Redentor, a huge Christ statue which stands looking over Rio on the tallest point in the city. I felt we had fallen in love with each other, while falling in love with the city. Nights spent at restaurants on the beach, sharing vino and our dreams for the future were mingled with sultry days enjoying the energy of the party and of the city itself. I was not ready to say goodbye; to Eric or to Rio but all good things must come to an end, as the famous saying goes. And I clung on to the last minute. On my flight back to Caracas, I relived the most romantic week of my life, made possible by an amazing man and fate. We met each other 19 months ago on a beach near Saskatoon. The ring he gave me on the 19th of February has 19 diamonds. I will never forget Rio and all that the city taught me about love, energy, and surprising, beautiful fate.