Who’s afraid of Carnival?

They danced down the narrow street to the applause of the crowd, continuing along the street to the Black Men’s Church of Our Lady of the Rosary. They are the maracatus, traditional rural carnival troupes here in Olinda, north-east Brazil. To judge by their dress, they are evoking an eighteenth century scene. First comes a bewigged chamberlain twirling a ceremonial umbrella, then come the King and Queen, similarly attired, then the dancers. The energy is supplied by the drummers who bring up the rear, stripped to the waist as they beat out the rhythm of frevo. The bolder, or fitter, onlookers fall in behind. Carnival in Olinda, the hilltop city overlooking the sprawl of its big sister Recife on one side and with dazzling views over the Atlantic to the other, is not like the highly