When the score was three-no to France, a conga line ensued on the bleachers. It was probably bigger than Salvador’s metro system. And while that may sound funny, reality is a bit harsher:
Most of the match attendees are now back in the Old Town, where those of us who survived overcrowded bus rides still find time to celebrate June festivals. In honour of Saint Anthony and Saint John, we basically dress up as hillbillies, complete with plaid shirts, straw hats and missing teeth, and dance in pairs to traditional Northeastern rhythms like xote, xaxado, baião and forró.
I’m such a nice guy I even put up a compilation of some fine São João music for you to get in the “junino” mood. You’re welcome.
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