Sweat dripping. Chest heaving. I'm trying to catch my breath.
The berimbau is telling me to play. And not just play. It's telling me to play fast.
And so I do. My ginga is not even for resting like it's supposed to.
I'm moving. Sideways. Trying to find an opening.
He makes a move but I know what's coming.
I fall letting him think I'm got.
Hoping all the while that the glint in my eye does not show.
I escape and I make my counter.
When we're done. I clap and sing.
Try to give back what I took.
I raise my voice just as I had raised my legs, my arms and my body.
Let them feel how I feel when I start to play.
With him, with her, with you, with myself.
In this circle. We are one.
I played 5 or six games tonight. And it felt like everyone wanted to play with me. I'm ecstatic. So this is what Fantasma feels like when he steps into the roda. Pure. Complete. Utter rapture.