RIO DE JANEIRO (AP) — Sweat streamed down Talita Ferreira Sanches’ face as she pushed a cart loaded with beer and water up the winding, cobblestone streets in Rio de Janeiro last month, calling out to glitter-covered revelers decked out in fishnet tights.
The 22-year-old from an area outside Rio had spent the night sleeping on a street in bohemian neighborhood Santa Teresa, covering herself with just a sheet, so she could arrive in time for the early-morning Carnival party “Heaven on Earth”.
“Carnival represents a lot of joy and all the money that we make,” said Ferreira Sanches, who has worked as a street vendor for the last four years. She makes around 1,500 reais ($260) a day during Carnival — about the same as the country's monthly minimum wage.
“Every year, we have an objective. Last year we bought a fridge and a television, this year we want to buy a wardrobe and a stove,” she said, pocketing cash with one hand while dishing out ice-cold drinks with the other.
Like musicians and stilt walkers, vendors are a fixture at Rio's street parties. Known in Portuguese as “ambulantes” or “camelos," they scour Instagram pages for times and locations, coordinate on WhatsApp groups, then race across parks and up hills, from Rio’s downtown to Copacabana beach, all to place themselves and their carts in the thronging crush of thousands — or hundreds of thousands — of thirsty revelers.
An economic lifeline
Peddlers provide much-needed party fuel and hydration, and can themselves partake in the buzzing, joyous atmosphere. More than that, though, it's an economic lifeline, allowing them to pay off debts, buy presents for their kids and set them up for the rest of the year.
But as opportunity to cash in has grown, more and more vendors have joined the rush — and drawn pushback. There are nearly 500 registered street parties this year, and hundreds more unofficial ones, considerably more than the pre-pandemic era, and they all need cold beer and water.
Rio’s City Hall conducted a lottery for 15,000 authorized vendors at this year’s Carnival — 5,000 more than last year, but observers say there are far more vendors than spots.
Selling without a permit renders them vulnerable to harassment, seizure of their merchandise and even violence from Rio’s municipal guard, according to the United Street Vendors' Movement — known by its acronym MUCA.
The ballooning number of vendors in recent years has created tensions with party organizers, said Pericles Monteiro, the director of Heaven on Earth, which he founded in 2001. Party facilitators and revelers have accused hawkers of blockading the procession by setting up shop in the middle of its path with their heavy carts.
“We couldn’t walk, we felt suffocated,” Monteiro said of Heaven on Earth's procession two years ago. The group didn’t get to the square where the show was supposed to end on time, and had to walk almost in silence until reaching the designated area. When they got there, peddlers had barbecues fired up and vans parked in the street, leaving little room for performers, musicians or revelers.
“We support street vendors. People have to work and they have an important role. We are aware of that. But the way it has been done, the intensity — there really has been a serious problem hindering the party’s development,” Monteiro added.
‘Mess with harmony’
Vendors are aware of the grievances, and the impact on their reputation. This year, union SindInformal and other groups launched a campaign to promote respect, proper organization and security during Carnival, and recommended buying from vendors surrounding the party rather than in the middle of the mayhem.
Fear of repercussions and clashes also prompted MUCA to produce a manifesto this year calling for “mess with harmony.” The document said criticism and attacks targeting vendors spark backlash against an already marginalized community.
“Vendors are seen as dangerous, as tarnishing the city’s reputation, as causing public disorder,” said Flávia Magalhães, who researches street sellers at the Paulista University in Sao Paulo. “But vendors sustain a festive street culture that is very important for the city’s tourism.”
They also face dire working conditions, struggling to access toilets, working long hours without stopping for food and struggling to find a legal place to leave their merchandise, according to a 2019 report by MUCA and Federal University of Rio de Janeiro. They often spend hours on public transport each day trekking into the city from the poor periphery.
Carnival daycare center
During Carnival, being based in the city center is a game-changer, said Maria de Lourdes do Carmo, 50, known as Maria of the Street Vendors.
Do Carmo has been a vendor for three decades, often hawking caipirinhas to foreign tourists in Santa Teresa's cobblestone hills; the municipal guard doesn't tend to crackdown up there, she said. She ran for a city council seat in last year’s election to fight for greater respect for her peers, but lost.
Since last year, Rio state's public prosecutors have been leading discussions on preventing violence against itinerant workers while also trying to tackle the municipality's failure to better organize their activity, for example by providing sanctioned deposits for their goods.
And City Hall this year is attending to a long-standing demand for childcare services. Authorities will provide a daycare center for vendors’ children during street parties and samba schools’ parades, with food, cultural activities and games, Rio’s department of social assistance said in an email.
For Débora Silva Pereira, 42, enduring the long, exhausting days away from her family is worth it, firstly because Carnival buoys her family's income. On a good day, she makes 3,000 reais — what she normally earns in 10 days during the rest of the year, selling women's clothing. But she also enjoys the mixture of work and play.
“We meet people and make friends. The money makes it worth it, but experiences even more so,” she said.
Eléonore Hughes, The Associated Press
