Carnival time, for the six million people of Rio de Janeiro, means forgetting about today until tomorrow. Actually forgetting for five days straight – starting next Friday, before finishing up as late as possible on the Tuesday night.
No country in the world parties harder than Brazil. Nowhere in Brazil do they party harder than in Rio. And next week’s carnival makes for the hardiest party of the lot. Since 1850 it has become an increasingly wild five-day celebration, designed to purge both body and mind of all pleasures before the 40-day abstinence that comes during Lent, which begins the following day, Ash Wednesday.
Not that everyone in Rio takes that period of abstinence too seriously: either way, there is simply no excuse not to party during carnival, even if all of Brazil is mired in the country’s deepest recession since the 1930s. For the people of Rio that’s actually an excuse to party even harder, to forget about the city’s mounting financial, political, criminal and public service woes – while also trying to forget about the crippling costs of staging this summer’s Olympics.
Indeed one of the main themes of the 2016 carnival is corruption. President Dilma Rousseff – whose popularity rating is hovering around 10 per cent – is facing impeachment proceedings over allegedly fiddled public accounts, and there’s the continuing fallout from the corruption scandal that sank the state oil company Petrobras (formerly one of the main sponsors of the Rio carnival).
The Mocidade samba school, one of Rio's chief carnavalescos, has designed a float in the shape of a giant slice of Swiss cheese, with rats nibbling through the holes, to reflect the secret Swiss bank accounts of some politicians.
Other samba schools have resorted to using recycled feathers as part of the famously flamboyant outfits and head-dresses. The Rio Olympic Organising Committee could soon be resorting to something similar, as they’re forced to cut about 30 per cent (€478 million) from their operating budget of €1.75 billion (perhaps recycling some Olympic medals handed back for doping offences would help).
Soaring pregnancy rate
Now I’ve never been to the Rio carnival, although I know some people who have, and by all accounts the pregnancy rate (both residents and visitors) must soar in the immediate aftermath, particularly given the 40-day abstinence that is meant to follow. Carnival is actually billed as an act of farewell to the pleasures of the flesh, only this year it couldn’t come at a worse time.
Because nobody in Rio will either want or need to forget about the Zika virus sweeping the country, not when pregnant women are most at risk, nor with the potentially global pandemic it now presents.
At least the word is out, spreading as fast as the virus itself. The Zika strain – easily delivered by the humble mosquito – has been around since 1947, although only in sporadic and mostly harmless cases in Africa and southern Asia. Brazil only reported its first case in May 2015, initially considering it harmless, until doctors and researchers linked it to the dramatic increase in cases of microcephaly, a rare and dreadful birth defect that results in babies born with unusually small heads and lasting developmental problems. Almost 4,000 cases of microcephaly have been reported in Brazil in just over three months since last October, compared to fewer than 150 in all of 2014 – and it’s only going to get worse.
It’s not the first time an Olympic countdown has turned from a political or financial distraction to a more humane one. Eight years ago, when the Beijing Olympics seemed to intensify western fear and suspicion of China, the earthquake that devastated parts of Sichuan province almost completely changed the mood. Suddenly, China became a country of people again, even if they happened to have 1.3 billion of them.
Currency value
Now, whatever about the Brazilian currency, the real, losing one-third of its value last year, or a national inflation rate nearing 10 per cent, no one will either want or need to forget about the Zika virus. This is a problem not just for Brazil but for most of Central and South America, or indeed for anyone intending to visit that part of the world: on Monday, the World Health Organisation will hold an emergency meeting to decide if the Zika virus now qualifies as an international public health emergency.
For the people of Rio it’s already at emergency status. Health minister Marcelo Castro has reportedly dispatched 220,000 troops to assist in the mosquito eradication effort, particularly during carnival time – although some critics say this is a cosmetic exercise.
At least it’s better than El Salvador, one of the poorest countries in the world, whose anti-Zika prevention campaign essentially consists of asking women not to get pregnant until 2018.
Other critics have been questioning Rio’s ability to host the Olympics two years after Brazil hosted the World Cup, particularly given the suggestion the Zika virus was actually brought into the country by wealthy Polynesian tourists during that 2014 World Cup, and has simply been nesting in the period since, aided by Brazil’s poor public health and sanitation system
This year’s El Niño weather patterns are also expected to boost mosquito populations, creating a sort of perfect Zika storm.
Not that it’s too late for a more assertive response – particularly from the International Olympic Committee (IOC). They intend to advise all national Olympic committees on how to best deal with the virus ahead of the opening ceremony on Friday, August 5th – but in the meantime should be spearheading the campaign to approve a vaccine.
Two potential vaccines have already been identified, and if the IOC is serious about the legacy issues they like to sell with the Olympics, that campaign should begin today, not tomorrow.
