On 
          the surface, the festival is purely, ardently Catholic, but the reality 
          is more complicated. The name of the festival refers not only to the good 
          death of Mary, who, according to scripture, ascended into heaven, but to 
          slaves who managed to become free during their lifetimes. The Catholic rites 
          are only part of the celebration; there are other religious, social and 
          political subtexts. 
       
          After spending a week enjoying the big city restaurants and music 
            of Salvador, I headed to the small town of Cachoeira with a friend, Paola 
            Gianturco, a writer-photographer who wanted to include the Boa Morte rituals 
            in her book on festivals that celebrate women. We were joined by her interpreter, 
            Carlos Scorpião, a professional guide with an intense interest 
          in African-Brazilian culture. After the bustle and noise of Salvador, 
            it was fascinating to observe the rhythms of life in a town that is usually 
            as quiet and slow-paced as the Paraguacú River that flows beside 
            it. 
      Cachoeira's cobblestoned 
            streets are lined with colonial buildings with tile roofs and walls painted 
            in brilliant colors, embellished with white trim as supple and curvaceous 
            as cake frosting. The buildings are in various stages of decay and rejuvenation. 
            A number of restoration projects have been undertaken recently with the 
            help of the state government, which has recognized the tourist potential 
            of the town's colonial architecture and riverside setting. Some artists, 
            mainly woodcarvers and painters, have taken up residence and opened small 
            galleries. 
       A few days before 
            the festival officially began, we wandered into one of the sisterhood's 
            three headquarters buildings in the center of town. Several of the sisters, 
            dressed in ruffled white blouses and ample skirts, greeted Carlos fondly 
            and happily answered our questions with the help of his translations. 
            When we asked them about the festival, they were quick to say, "It 
            is all to worship the Virgin." 
      A few seconds later, 
            however, they were talking with equal fervor about orixás, the 
            deities of Candomblé, the
          African-Brazilian religion that invokes spirituality through ritual dancing 
          and trances. Candomblé and Catholicism have coexisted in the minds 
            and hearts of many black Brazilians since the days when the Portuguese 
            colonists required slaves to be baptized Catholic and to attend weekly 
            Mass on their plantations. The slaves maintained their African traditions 
            in secret ceremonies, disguising their orixás as Catholic saints. 
          
      "On top of the 
            altar were Catholic objects, and the orixás were hidden under the 
            table," Carlos explained. "It was like a chameleon changing 
            its colors to survive." 
      The 
            Boa Morte sisterhood was founded in the early 19th century, ostensibly 
            with purely religious intentions to pray for the dead and to provide decent 
            funerals for its members. In fact, the members also intended to preserve 
            African traditions and to free slaves, either by helping them escape or 
            by earning money to buy their freedom. Although the group was the female 
            equivalent of Catholic lay brotherhoods, the Boa Morte's relationship 
            to the church was never formalized. In the 1980's a priest in Cachoeira 
            confiscated the sisterhood's property, including precious jewelry, religious 
            statues and a sandal bearing the image of the Virgin. A young lawyer, 
            Celina Maria Sala, came to their aid, pursuing the case through several 
            appeals and finally finding 19th-century paperwork proving that the sisters, 
            not the church, owned the items. The case was resolved in 1998, but Ms. 
            Sala continues to take a lively interest - now functioning as a festival 
            organizer and liaison with the growing number of curious outsiders who 
            come to the celebration. 
      After such a bitter 
            conflict, one might wonder if the Boa Morte sisters would continue to 
            stage celebrations in honor of the Virgin Mary. But their sincerity and 
            enthusiasm was clear as the festival began. On the first night, each of 
            the 24 sisters was splendidly turned out in the traditional Bahian garb: 
            ruffled eyelet overblouse, huge ankle-length skirt, lacy turban, white 
            cotton shawl and yards of necklaces made of gold chains, cowrie shells, 
            and beads whose colors signify their personal orixás. 
      The sisters posed 
            graciously for photographs before shouldering a magnificently dressed 
            and bejeweled recumbent figure of the Virgin, carrying it through the 
            streets, followed by a small crowd of photographers, tourists and local 
            citizens. After the parade, they attended Mass in their chapel. Then it 
            was time for the ritual white meal - a feast of fried fish, onions, potatoes, 
            rice and wine - that the women served to anyone who appeared. 
      The 
            Mass and procession on the second night marked the death of the Virgin 
            Mary. The sisters eschewed jewelry and wore long black pleated skirts, 
            white blouses, white eyelet scarves and black shawls carefully arranged 
            not to reveal their red silk linings. They did not smile as they filed 
            into the chapel for the Mass, and the procession through the streets afterward 
            was funereal rather than festive. 
       The 
            next morning, however, the sisters, the chapel and the town itself were 
            transformed. A new statue of the Virgin stood at the altar, surrounded 
            by huge arrangements of tuberoses, chrysanthemums, birds of paradise and 
            wheat. The sisters were resplendent in black skirts and shawls turned 
            to the bright red side - the same clothes the sisters have traditionally 
            worn at their own funerals - and jewelry.
       No fewer than five 
            Catholic priests officiated at the morning Mass. The news media presence 
            was almost overwhelming, with a young anchorwoman from a São Paulo 
            station doing commentary inside the church, and television cameramen and 
            photographers from as far away as Paris and San Francisco jostling for 
            clear views. Bodyguards protected the sisters as they proceeded through 
            town, followed by bands, large groups of women in Bahian dress and proud 
            family members. 
      The streets were teeming 
            with people, and the distinctive smell of palm oil rose from sidewalk 
            stands where white-clad women were frying acaraje (bean fritters), and 
            men were selling popcorn and crushing sugar cane to make syrup. Many in 
            the crowd were tourists - visitors from other parts of Brazil and a number 
            of African-American tourists. Some were wearing African robes, or T-shirts 
            declaring "Free Mumia" or "We Love to Be Africans." 
          A banner announced the support of a local politician for the Boa Morte 
          sisters, and a rumor swept through the crowd that the singer Gilberto 
          Gil, now Brazil's minister of culture, might turn up. In the main square, 
          a group of women piled out of a bus to parade in flashy costumes made 
          of recycled materials like coffee packaging and plastic cups. 
       At the largest hotel 
            in town, the Pousada do Convento, long tables had been set up in the courtyard, 
            each marked with the name of a tour group that had arrived from Salvador 
            that morning. The T-shirts and the political signs help to explain why 
            so many people care about the activities of 24 elderly women who have 
            led lives of poverty and anonymity, raising children and working in minimum-wage 
            jobs in the tobacco industry. The Boa Morte has become a symbol for Brazil's 
            black advocates, whose message is that Brazil is not a racial democracy 
            but a country branded by slavery, in which the darkest-skinned people 
            are usually the poorest and whose families sometimes prefer that their 
            descendants marry lighter-skinned people. 
       Part 
            of their advocacy is urging Brazilians to take pride in their African 
            heritage and to treasure their unique history, language and religion. 
            In the 1990's, they got a boost from the renowned novelist Jorge Amado, 
            who drew attention to the cultural significance of the sisterhood by writing 
            articles about them in two prominent Brazilian newspapers. In addition, 
            Mr. Amado gave the sisters financial aid - health insurance and one of 
            their buildings in Cachoeira. Further aid came from the state government 
            and donations from African-American tourists, who helped buy the building 
            that now houses the sisterhood's museum and cultural activities such as 
            dance and art classes. 
       According to Carlos
               and others close to the sisterhood, the sisters are comfortable with
              the  political subtext of their 
          festival. However, when we asked which part of the festival they enjoy
           most, they responded with smiles, "The samba." 
          The dancing came on the third evening of the festival, when, after the
           Mass and the parade and yet another public 
          feast, a band - mainly drums and guitars - set up next to the Boa Morte's
          headquarters. The sisters formed a circle 
          to perform the samba de roda, a Bahian variation on Brazil's national
          dance. Each one took a solo turn in the 
          middle of the circle, some with their canes. 
       After each had performed 
            her solo, the sisters invited a few people in the crowd to take a turn 
            in the circle. And
          this was the moment when I found myself doing a few untutored samba steps.
           Soon, however, the circle broke up 
          as the more elderly sisters slipped away through the crowd. Spiritual
           and political concerns seemed forgotten as the 
          crowd poured onto the dance floor to samba into the night. 
        
      The 
              Festival 
          The principal day of the Festival of the Boa Morte, or Good Death, with 
          a Mass, a parade and the samba de roda, is Aug. 15, Feast of the Assumption, 
          with lesser events on Aug. 13 and 14. All activities begin at the Boa 
          Morte headquarters, at Rua 13 de Maio, in the center of town. We saw schedules 
          for the ceremonies in our hotel, but start times are flexible. 
      Most
               visitors come by way of Salvador, 66 miles away, by tour bus, car
              or boat.  Arrangements can be made through 
          Salvador hotels or travel agents. Our Salvador travel agent was Carlos
           Aguiar, who can be reached at
          bahiatrip@uol.com.br. 
       To
               attend a ceremony at one of Cachoeira's many Candomblé houses,
                simply ask at a hotel or check with a guide. 
          Services start late, often around 10 p.m., and go on for several hours.
           Outsiders are generally welcome, although 
          photography is usually not allowed. 
      Useful 
            Web sites for planning a trip to Bahia are www.braziltourism.org and www.bahia.com.br. 
          
       Where
               to Stay 
          The only upscale hotel in town is the Pousada do Convento, Praça
             da Aclamação, (55-75) 425-1716, where I stayed, built
             around  a cloister filled with tropical plants. Hot water comes in fits
             and starts  and the rooms are dim and simply furnished, but it has a
             pool and a congenial  restaurant. A double during the festival is $65,
            at 2.9 reals to the dollar;  less the rest of the year. 
      A
                 more modest option is the Pousada LaBarca, 37 Rua Inocêncio
                 Boaventura,  (55-75) 425-1070, with a handful of 
              small but spotless rooms with town views; $14 with breakfast; three-day
               minimum during the festival, $138 with 
              breakfast. 
      Where 
            to Eat 
          The newly opened Recanto d'Ajuda, near the Boa Morte's headquarters at
           25 Rua Ana Nery, (55- 75) 425-4548 or 
          (55-75) 425-3167, is an open-air restaurant with authentic Afro-Brazilian
          food. There is a lovely view of steeples and tile roofs. 
       The
               Literary Cafe on the Praça de Aclamação, (55-75)
                425-1604, is a cozy place to drink chocolate-laced espresso 
            and buy Brazilian CD's. 
       Excursions 
          
          Besides the festival itself, Cachoeira's attractions (all within a 10-minute 
          walk of the Boa Morte headquarters)
          include many examples of colonial architecture. The Convent of the Ordem
           Terceira do Carmo, on the Praça da Aclamação, is
            an 18th-century church in the baroque style. Nearby, the imposing Igreja
            Matriz, on Rua Ana Nery, has interesting painted tile work inside. A
            short walk across the Paraguaçu River on a rickety 19th-century
             bridge leads to the town of São Felix, where 
            the Centro Cultural Dannemann, at 29 Avenida Salvador Pinto, (55-75)
             425-1220, offers exhibits of contemporary 
            Brazilian art and the chance to watch women deftly rolling cigars, which
             are for sale. Closed Sunday and Monday. 
            To see the lush countryside, hire a local taxi to drive about 40 miles
             on a good laterite road to São Francisco de 
            Iguape, where a magnificent colonial church, now closed and blackened
             with mildew, bears witness to the past glories of the Portuguese colonists.
      JOAN 
            CHATFIELD-TAYLOR is an author who lives in San Francisco. 
        Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company