Whenever I go to the beach in Rio, I can't help but think about Balnearios, a movie I watched for my New Argentine Cinema class last semester which is a mockumentary/anthropological survey of Argentine beachside towns. Although I didn't care for the film, one particular scene really stuck with me in which the narrator, director Mariano Llinás, describes the people of the beach. El panchero, con su caja de metal (the hotdog vendor with his metal box), el heladero, con su caja de hielo (the ice cream man with his box of ice), and so on for ten minutes, chronicling the characters of the beach in excruciating detail. The beaches in Rio remind me of this scene, as I always sit and marvel at the delicate social balance taking place near the ocean. Here are some of my observations:
The Vendors
The beach is crawling with roaming vendors, selling anything you can imagine. You can sit on your towel and just wait for someone to walk by shouting the items they sell, wave at him or her, and then buy your desired snack or drink. There appears to be a kind of beach vendor camaraderie-- yesterday one seller didn't have the drink I wanted, but went and found another seller who did and brought him over to me. Pretty good service!
My beach-going experience is much tamer than it was a few years ago, as officials started cracking down on different vendors at the beach, prohibiting portable grills and some fresher foods in preparation for the World Cup and Olympics. They also banned pets and playing some sports near the water during peak times. (You can read the full article from the New York Times from 2010 here.)
Got to the beach and forgot your swimsuit? No problem! These men with bikini umbrellas walk the beach, happy to sell you a suit or two. Some will even take credit cards.
The matte leão sellers carry two large metal drums on each side and put a little of each into the plastic cups they carry. The drink tastes like an Arnold Palmer (lemonade + ice tea), but I think the tea part is supposed to be like mate, a strong tea concoction they drink religiously in Argentina and Uruguay. The man in the background with the large bag is carrying iscoito globo, small circle shaped cookies. They are a beach trademark, although I have not tried them yet.
Shrimp vendor. I don't know how I feel about buying seafood from someone walking the beach, but a lot of people seem to eat it. (Photo by André Vieira from nytimes.com.)
The sidewalk (note the signature Rio sidewalk design) is lined with quiosques, small stands that sell a variety of drinks and snack items. They might have french fries or algados (any kind of salty pastry item which could have meat or cheese inside). This is also the place to get your coconut water in the coconut itself-- those are too heavy to be easily carried around the beach.
The Beachgoers
The beach is one of the few places where people of all social classes mix. One of our tour guides explained that going to the beach is one of the last remaining "free" activities that poor people can do. Therefore, at the beach someone who lives in a comunidade (social correct term for favelas) sitting next to someone with an ocean front apartment. You'll find people on the beach tanning, enjoying the water, or playing one of many crazy Brazilian beach sports.
Typical swimsuit for the women of Brazil. Called the biquíni do dental (dental bikini or dental floss bikini), this style of bottom is popular for women of all ages and body shapes.
Leave it to the men of Brazil to find a response to the small swimsuits of the women. As with the ladies, men of all sizes will wear the speedo-style suit. I would like to note here that I bought my first two-piece swimsuit in probably ten years shortly before coming to Brazil, and my bottoms are larger than the men's swimsuits.
(My photos are from Google images. Photographers, thank you for letting me use your photos for an educational post on this blog.)