We’re not ignorant. We know Brazil is not in a good shape. We cannot close our eyes to our current political turmoil. We cannot ignore the violence in our streets. Our hospitals are not well equipped, and our schools have no funding. We know all of that, but we also know how beautiful, diverse, and vibrant Brazil is, and we would never stop celebrating the talent of the nation we live in. The opening to the 2016 Rio Olympic Games was praised around the world for its beautiful imagery and creativity, but it hit us Brazilians right in the heart with its beauty and symbolic way of telling our history to the world. Here’s everything you need to know about the opening ceremony from the eyes of a Brazilian who cried throughout the entire ceremony.
The day of the opening ceremony, we sat watching our afternoon news, our expectations building up. After the not-so-impressive opening ceremony for the 2014 World Cup, we were all on the edge of our seats wondering what was to come. They teased us with bits of information, showing us the preparations. What really surprised us, however, was the mention that our opening ceremony had spent only one-tenth of what London had spent during their fantastic ceremony for the 2012 Games. Our hearts dropped in worry. We needed this to be huge, to prove and showcase all Brazil could offer; we needed our own “London.” In the midst of so much initial disappointment, all we could do was wait. And so we waited.
We waited, and waited, and waited, until our clocks turned 8 o’clock and it was time for the ceremony to begin. The big screens kicked it off by projecting images of Rio, our marvelous city, through bird-view cameras. Then the waves hit us, and the storm began. Maracanã was taken over by waves and lightning, taking us to the beginning of it all: the molecules of our being. The projections soon became amoebas, cells, the smallest particles on Earth, and membranes began to walk around, visually representing the creation of our planet. The focus then returned to Brazil as our flora started to grow.
Our trees grew and the Maracanã became Pindorama, our land before colonization. That’s when the Ceremony truly began. Our history was finally being told to the world and, for the first time, correctly. Over 70 Parintins, representing our natives, danced with elastics and proving less is more. Through their performance, they created replicas of “tocas,” our very first dwelling in the land. Next, the Portuguese discovered our land, and the Arab, European, and Japanese immigrants found a new beginning in our home, slowly creating the melting pot (dare I say) our country is today. They all left their own marks; as the changing projections on the ground depicted this gradual change as our forests became cities.
The ceremony now took off, literally. Santos Dumont’s 14 Bis flew around the Maracanã, taking flight across Rio’s night sky. His 14 Bis was built as Caetano’s “Construção” (Construction) played as a soothing instrumental. As Dumont took off, Daniel Jobim, grandson of Tom Jobim, one of Brazil’s most iconic musicians, made an appearance, performing his grandfather’s “Garota de Ipanema” (The Girl From Ipanema). During the performance, Gisele Bündchen, internationally famous model, actress, and producer, walked her very last runaway over the lines of Oscar Niemeyer (Brazil’s most renowned architect), representing Brazilian women’s notorious curves.
As Gisele came to a stop, the City of Boxes became a magnificent portrayal of our “favelas” (the ghettos of Brazil), dancers began a routine of our famous “passinho” (popular word used to describe dance steps) as Ludmila sang “Rap da Felicidade” (Happiness’ Rap), passionately expressing the desire of the “morros” (another word for “favelas”), to be happy and safe in the neighborhoods they were born in and loved dearly. The legendary Elza Soares followed with an interpretation of Baden Powell and Vinicius de Moraes’ “Canto de Ossanha” (Ossanha’s Hymn). Age did not stop our diva. Although she performed sitting on a chair, Elza surely reminded the world why she has become one of Brazil’s most listened to voices.
And of course, it would not have been a Brazilian party without our sambas. Zeca Pagodinho innovated “Deixa a Vida Me Levar” (Life Will Carry Me) as rapper Marcelo D2 spit bars over his lines. However, the rapping stars of the night were Karol Conká and 12 year-old MC Soffia. Their collaboration advocated for female empowerment and POC representation as they performed their brand-new song “Toquem os Tambores” (Play the Drums).
Regina Casé, actress, performer, comedian, and TV host, interrupted a maracatu battle as the sounds of iconic Brazilian instruments, the “alfaias” and “gonguês” reached the crowd. As Casé advocated for diversity and mutual respect, yet another legendary musician, Jorge Ben Jor, entered the Maracanã with a Brazilian anthem, “País Tropical” (Tropical Country). I guarantee that every Brazilian knows at least two songs by heart: our national anthem and “País Tropical.” That’s just how we roll. This was proven when the song came to a stop and the crowd eagerly followed Jorge Ben Jor in an acapella version of “País Tropical,” sending chills down everyone’s spine. It was now time for the athletes to enter.
The athletes were lead by decorated bicycles and children carrying various plants. Before that, the audience was bombarded with a shocking, yet real video on global warming. As the athletes walked in, —walking straight down the Maracanã and not “circling” like the usual Olympic walk— a playlist designed to broadcast Brazil’s various musical styles energized the entire stadium. Each athlete directly planted a seed that would create a brand-new forest in Rio.
We watched patiently, on the edge of our seats, waiting for our delegation to enter. As they did, we had yet another surprise: transgender model Lea T (Leandra Medeiros Cerezo) was pedaling our bicycle. As we were expecting to see the same faces we saw throughout the night pedaling every bicycle, we were given the legendary Lea, a prime example of Brazilian strength. And that was not the end of the show; it was now time for the Olympic rings. The structures in which the athletes planted their seeds in was then danced to the center of the stage before suddenly coming to a stop. The camera showed us a bird’s view, and that was when we saw the rings. We thought that that was it, the athletes’ future forest represented the rings, but that was not the case. The structures opened and trees were revealed, seemingly sprouting green, ecological Olympic rings, staying true to the theme of sustainability.
Fireworks lighted up the Maracanã as they flashed even more Olympic rings, illuminating the sky. And, once again, they were not done. Brazil’s beloved musical duo, Caetano and Gil, took the stage side by side with our newest pop diva, Anitta. The unexpected trio performed Ary Barroso’s “Sandália de Prata” (Silver Sandal), singing and dancing beautifully and welcoming what we (once again) thought would be the end. We were (once again) wrong.
Out of all of the night’s events, this one has to be one of the most iconic. While the world knows Brazilian Carnaval to be one of the happiest, most vibrant, most colorful, and most energetic party of parties, we know it as a battle. Escolas de Samba (“Samba Schools,” if we’re being literal, “Samba Ensembles” if we’re being technical) battle each other for the title of the biggest, prettiest representation of Rio and São Paulo’s Carnaval. But this tense competition was not seen that night. On that night, Rio 2016 was able to unite 12 rival Schools to play as one. It was simply legendary.
If you wish to navigate all of the different musical performances that were a part of the Opening, check out the list (“Listão”) at the end of Rio 2016’s official article, which retells the night’s musical journey. But for now, let’s take a look at the Olympic cauldron. Let’s be honest, we were all expecting legendary soccer player Pelé to show up and light the cauldron. However, the player made an official statement the day of saying he would not be able to participate in the Opening due to his medical conditions. So now we were (yes, once again) waiting for a surprise. Gustavo Kuerten, commonly known as “Guga,” the tennis player, walked in the Maracanã carrying the flame. Would he light the cauldron? No, it was not Guga. He passed the flame to Hortência Marcari, a legendary basketball player. All right, so an iconic female athlete would light the cauldron; we would like that. But again, it was not Marcari who would light the cauldron. Not this time. This was his time to shine. Whose? Hortencia passed the flame to Vanderlei Cordeiro de Lima, our bronze medalist marathoner that had deserved the gold.
We traveled back in time for a bit as we remind ourselves of who Vanderlei was. We relive Athens in 2004, watching Vanderlei running, leading, so close to winning. Then we see Cornelius “Neil” Horan, former Irish priest who was watching the marathon. Horan runs into Vanderlei and pushes him into the crowd, costing him precious seconds to recover mentally and physically before he can return to the marathon. Vanderlei proudly crosses the finish line in third place. Now, we watch in silent reverie as the same man lights the Olympic cauldron in 2016.
However, we weren’t done yet. We had another cauldron to light. The Olympic flame was carefully taken to the city center of Rio, where a 14 year-old athlete, Jorge Gomes, would light the symbolic fire across from the Candelária church, “a symbolic place, which 23 years ago was the scene of a massacre of boys just like Jorge.” And so, we’re crying (again).
We cried because of every memory that was sparked, every song that was performed, every artist that was featured, and every group that was represented. We cried because we knew that while we claim to hate our politicians, despise our educational system, and fear for our lives, we have never stopped loving this country and everything it represents. We cried not because we turned a blind eye to our problems, but because we, the people of Brazil, were, for the very first time, accurately broadcasted to the world, our flaws side by side with our culture, richness, diversity, talent, and pride.
Rio 2016 is Brazil’s final cry to the world. Look at us, understand us, get to know us. Value us for what we’ve accomplished, what we’ve invented, and what we represent. Don’t disregard us for our negatives, keep them in mind, but look first at our overflowing positives. View us as a developing nation, but also as a nation that has grown to love its history and diversification of music, dance, talent, and people. Respect us for the same reasons we love ourselves. The Rio 2016 Olympic Games have begun, and we Brazilians could not have been any better represented than how we were at the Opening Ceremony.
