The Sounds Of Brasil: A Love Letter Written in Music
BY JAMARI SHELTON
When Rio hit theaters in 2011, I fell in love with Brazil (“Brasil”) instantly. Seeing Carnival, Christ the Redeemer (“Cristo Redentor”) and the blue macaw, Blu, was only the beginning. I was so obsessed with the movie that my mama rented it for me through the MAX channel, and I watched it every day for a week straight
That kicked off a lifelong obsession with the country. I collected books about Brazil and wanted to learn everything I could. I told everyone that when I grew up, I’d make it to Rio de Janeiro, Brasil.
True to my word, this June I was finally there.
After graduating from Columbia College Chicago with a bachelor’s degree in Broadcast Journalism, it came time to choose a graduation trip. I didn’t hesitate. It had to be Rio.
It was my first trip outside of the country and my first time using my passport. I also had to get an e-Visa—which, after being denied four times, finally got approved on the fifth try. Fifth time really was the charm.
Arriving in Brazil felt like a dream. We landed around 5 p.m., and my first glimpse of the country was through rain clouds and fading daylight. But once we arrived at the hotel, the magic began. Brazil was still competing in the 2026 FIFA World Cup, and hearing people cheer with so much pride for their country was beautiful. Every television was tuned to the matches, every conversation seemed to find its way back to football, and you could feel the excitement in the air.
My cousin, Ariel, and I spent our days exploring the city together. One of my favorite memories was visiting a neighborhood street market, where dancers dressed as perna de pau—performers on stilts—towered above the crowds. People weren’t just watching the entertainment; they were part of it. Visitors joined dance lines, played instruments and celebrated together. There were so many children, so many smiles and so much joy. I’d never seen anything like it. People spent the entire day dancing, singing and simply enjoying being together.
We visited other markets too, including one near Copacabana Beach. Music poured from every direction. Even though I couldn’t understand Portuguese, the energy was infectious. But it wasn’t just the music that stayed with me—it was the conversations. The sound of people talking, laughing and calling out to one another became just as memorable as any song I heard.
Of course, no walk through the markets was complete without someone offering us an espeto brasileiro—a grilled skewer—or a caipirinha, Brazil’s national cocktail. Everywhere we went, someone greeted us with a smile and invited us to try one. With the little Portuguese we knew—and a translation app always ready—we managed just fine. The hospitality was unlike anything I’d experienced. We even ended up buying two caipirinhas from one booth, and the vendor surprised us with miniature ones to take along.
Even when we were shopping for souvenirs, people smiled at the fact that we were trying. Whether we stumbled through Portuguese or pulled out our phones to translate, everyone appreciated the effort. (If you know a little Spanish, you’ll find you can get by better than you might expect.)
The soundtrack of my trip wasn’t limited to the markets. Every Uber ride introduced me to another artist, another melody drifting through the speakers. One song, though, completely stopped me in my tracks. Despite my terrible cell service, I managed to Shazam it: Bem Que Se Quis (Ao Vivo) by Exaltasamba. Something about it scratched my brain in the best way. Even now, hearing it instantly takes me back to Rio. I only wish my connection had been better because there were dozens of songs playing from passing cars, market stalls and portable radios that I’ll probably never hear again.
Before this trip, Brazil existed in my mind through photographs, travel videos and an animated movie that made a little kid dream bigger than her neighborhood. After spending time there, I think about it differently. I think about the voices echoing through crowded streets, vendors greeting customers, the sound of traffic carrying another song I’d never heard before and constantly wondering, What am I listening to? What does it mean?
But that’s the beauty of music—you don’t always have to understand the words. Sometimes all you need is the rhythm.
Years ago, Rio introduced me to Brazil through animation. It gave me colorful streets, unforgettable music and a dream that never really left me. Visiting Rio de Janeiro showed me something even better: the real thing. The movie may have been what made me fall in love with Brazil, but hearing the country’s soundtrack for myself is what made me never want to leave.
But I can’t wait to return. Brasil felt like I kept walking and somehow, everything became more beautiful.
