I was actually on time for practice this Saturday, for the first time in eons. We had a really good workout; we did a lot of line and pair exercises. Afterwards, we had our usual roda. One big, young brawny Brazilian kid in our group did a wild jump spinkick and caught one of the Japanese guys right in the eye. I mean, he walked right into it--SMACK! The Japanese guy kinda just collapsed to the floor. Z immediately stopped the roda and had some guys take him out of the circle and lay him on his back to recover. He was conscious and didn't seem seriously hurt, so we continued the roda. Everyone knew the Brazilian kid, a newer member, was in the wrong, although the Japanese guy, a more senior member should have had his guard up. Z didn't seem happy about it, but he didn't get angry or yell at anyone--at the end, he simply said to exercise more control of our bodies and movements in the roda. After practice, the Brazilian kid didn't really seem penitent nor apologetic; actually, he was laughing it off, calling himself an "animal." Please. Dude's not even that good yet, and with that kind of an attitude, he definitely has some hurt in his future.
After practice, we were scheduled to do a group demonstration at a club near downtown, called the Plastic Factory. But first, we headed out to dinner at what's becoming our usual spot, the Spaghetti Factory. Z seems to really like the place. The food is decent, although it's best selling point is that it serves unlimited complimentary hardbread and paper-thin cheese pizza, making it the only restaurant I've been to in Japan where I've gotten anything for free besides water.
At the restaurant, about 15 of us occupied 3 tables. Again, we seemed to unconsciously segregate ourselves, as the Japanese folks had two tables, while us foreigners occupied one. Interestingly enough, Carlos, a Japanese-Brazilian guy who'd come from out of town to work out with us, could speak English and Portugese, so our table was able to converse without using Japanese; Carlos translated for both the English-speaking and Portugese-speaking sides of the table, so we were able to "privatize" our convo. I don't know how the Japanese heads felt about that, though.
After dinner, we headed off to the Plastic Factory, arriving around 11:30-ish. Since we were performing guests, all of us got in admission-free. We weren't scheduled to perform until 1a, so we all got to chill for a while. There weren't many people in the club, and the capoeira heads made up about half the attendance. There were a good number of foreigners who were customers and who were staff. It was my first time to the club, and I dug the space, although the music wasn't my particular flavor, as they played mainly trance and techno mixes. I met one bro from Haiti named Bert. He was a graphic design student at one of the nearby Nagoya city universities. I asked him about the turmoil over Aristide going on in Haiti; he told me that his parents were there, but that they were okay.
Before 1a, we'd changed back into our capoeira uniforms and began stretching to prepare for the demo. At first there was some concern about potential injury, because some irregularities were spotted on the surface of the wooden dancefloor we were supposed to perform on. Z ended up going over the floor with a flashlight and hammer, banging in any nails that were jutting out.
When performance time came, the deejay stopped the records and Z lead the roda with the berimbau. He started a song and then the play began. Everyone looked pretty good on the floor and kept the play pretty and clean with minimal body contact. The crowd really got into it, and was cheering at points. I played once, but the dancefloor space wasn't very wide and I almost banged my foot on the bar after doing a carthwheel. After about 10 minutes, Z ended the roda, but someone kept yelling "Encore," so we started back up, and played once again. After the second round, the Brazilian girl in our group jumped in the middle and started doing the samba. She grabbed a couple other Brazilian girls who happened to be in the crowd. Then there were 3 girls dancing in the middle, which was a pleasant sight for the guys, to say the least. Soon after, some of the Brazilian guys in our group jumped in. They were grooving, and I wanted to jump in, but didn't because I haven't officially learned the samba yet, and didn't want to make an ass of myself. I'm definitely gonna learn though.
After the performance, we changed back into our civilian dress and blended back in with the clubgoers. Most of us chilled for a little while before going home. I was thirsty and had just gotten a glass of water from the bar, when one of the Brazilian girls fainted right in front of me. I slapped her lightly on the cheeks, then sprinkled some water on her to try to get her to come to. Seconds after, the Brazilian guys were all over it, helping the girl onto a couch and making sure she was okay. I suppose she'd had too much too drink. Usual club stuff I guess.
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