BRAZIL: Bye Bye Brazil

Last night our hostel had organized an excusion to see one of the samba schools practice for Carnivale. There are many schools in Brazil - each school competes during Carnivale. Our school was called Viradoro. Carnivale is in February but I guess they practice for months ahead. We got on a bus at 11PM and went way, way across Rio in the dark to some sketchy neighborhood. It was in a big gymnasium/dance hall type of place and a few thousand Brazilians were all dancing. the band started and everyone had to get out of the way. Kathy and I wandered upstairs and found some box seats, (owned by different groups of people, I guess, just like at a baseball park) . I asked one of them if we could come in and they let us. We got the best view of the band and the dancers. It was so loud, lots of percussion to accompany the one song they practiced over and over and over. After hearing it about 20 times (with corresponding hand movements), we could sort of sing along:

...Brasil! Terra de encantos Mil
Em Que a miscigenacao,
Alterando os conceitos, incentiva a criacao,
Vindos de alem-mar, nao poderiam imaginar...

No, I didn´t memorize the words. They passed out sheet music.

Eventually they let everyone else join in and it was a big dance party with cheap beer and frightening food for sale (I had some meat on a stick! yum) You would think I had learned my lesson with the scary street food but I don´t care any more.

the people in our box were nice and insisted that we be in front for the best view. They tried to teach us to dance a little bit. I´m really bad at samba. I try to copy people but Kathy says that I end up looking like I am doing the running man. Anyways, I hope that Viradouro has a chance at taking away the title from beija flor this year! (When carnivale comes, I can look it up on the internet). I bought a ghetto-looking Viradoro tank top too that has their symbol on it, a crown with two people shaking hands.

We got home at 4AM.

Today I just messed around the hostel and went to the beach one last time. It was so hot, I think the hottest day yet. Once again I played in the waves with little teenage boys trying to body surf.

OK, now for my Brazil recap!

Funny things about Brazil

teeny, tiny waxy napkins
thin, crinkly plastic cups
men in speedos and a t-shirt, walking around
the thumbs up sign everyone does
having people laugh at me when I say "no falo portuguese"
lots of cutting in line. you snooze, you lose.
the lispy way people talk with the "sh" sound


Things I love about Brazil

people seem so happy
the strong drinks
People are stylish and suave, even when they are wearing crazy clothes
Bossa Nova
Brazilian pop music!
The unexpected rain forests and beauty of the country
Chicken pastels at the beach in Morro, even though they made me sick.
Mangoes and Pineapple
Guarana
cold Brahma chopp, our favorite beer
the sun
the mosaic tile all over the beaches in Rio with the mod designs. Lots of cool mosaic sidewalks in all Brazilian towns

My favorite beaches

Ipanema beach
Morro de sao paulo beach #2
Mendes Lopez beach if it hadn´t rained

Brazil, I´ll miss you!

XXX

BRAZIL: pounding two beers and jumping off a cliff

I´m not coming home. Nope, I´m staying here. I was worried about Rio not fulfilling my expectations but it really has. I really think it is what they say.

Yesterday, after having a nice dinner by myself and waiting for my sick roommates to feel better, Kate was able to go out to see some bossa nova in a neighborhood called Lapa. After a crazy, winding taxi ride down Avenue Atlantico (just like Michigan avenue at home - tall buildings on one side, the beach on the other), we arrived in Lapa which was a little sketchy but very happening. The recommended place had a line down the block so we went to the place next door. Still full, but had great music. We watched the band for awhile and got a table. I am still enamored by Brazilian music. There are so many different types - the cheesy pop (I always love foreign pop music), the bossa nova, the samba (I think it´s faster, it´s what they dance to during carnivale). The lady I met on the salvador ferry explained another type to me, I forget which but I have the name somewhere. In the hostel bar last night, they were playing a CD that we really liked - Jorge Ben - When I get home I´ll have to get his greatest hits on amazon.

This morning the sun was out! And it was hot! and bright! We walked two blocks to ipanema beach and it was exactly what I had always dreamed of. I played in the big waves and drank coconut juice out of a coconut. The beach is actually clean, for a city beach. Kate saw a guy wearing a hot pink speedo with movie star faces on it. Marylyn Monroe, the cast of casablanca... It was fun to play in the waves until I had a minor jellyfish sting. There have been little jellyfish at a few beaches but they are mostly harmless. If they sting you, it only hurts for about an hour. Still unsettling to see them floating around.

I signed up for hang gliding (well, Kathy signed up for me when she ran back to the hotel to put our cameras away to keep them away from beach thieves.) I have been talking about hang gliding for months but when it came time to actually sign up I got really nervous. K & K left to go see Christo the redeemer (the giant Christ on the hill that overlooks the city, I´m going to see him tomorrow) and I waited for the hang gliding guys to come get me. Thankfully another guy had signed up at the hostel, Brett from Birmingham, England. So I had someone to be nervous with. Well, actually he didn´t act nervous, just me. I wãsn´t bad at all until we go up there and had to look over the cliff and see where we would be jumping off. Huge, huge cliff overlooking Rio. I thought we would be running down a flat surface, but noticed that the jump off point was a slanted wood plank, down at an angle. That bothered me A LOT. My knees were shaking and my heart was racing. I met a funny woman from Detroit who wasn´t nervous at all and I asked her "why are you not scared and shaking like me?" She had a bunch of caiaparnias beforehand. Then I noticed there was a little bar at the top. Thank God. I figured that one Michigander knows what´s best for another (former) Michigander, so Brett and I ran over to the bar and pounded a beer while taking pictures of eachother. I had to drink one more, then it was time for me to go. My flight instructor, Marcel (I think! prounounced in that lispy portuguese way) counted down and we ran down the slanted boards. If you don´t run really, really fast, you will drop much faster so it was an incentive for me to not screw it up. We jumped off, dropped really fast, I screamed, then all was very calm and I could take in the amazing view of Rio. It felt like 3 minutes but was actually 15. They had an automatic picture-taker so I have a roll of film from the hang gliding. I can´t imagine a more perfect place to try it. Rio is such an incredibly beautiful city. I want to do it again tomorrow. I´m not sure the website works but this is it http://www.riosuperfly.com.br/

Well, Kate leaves in an hour, I´ll be sad to see her go - Tomorrow night, Kathy and I leave. I don´t wanna go! I´m sure I´ll write one more blog though.

Schirmy

BRAZIL: what a meat pie can do to you

The good thing about travelling for three weeks (a drop in the bucket for other nationalities, an eternity for Americans) is that if you have bad weather, or get sick for a few days - hey, you have 2.5 more weeks to spread your fun around. It puts less pressure on each day. You start to just live normally. When you take a 5 day vacation, every day better be damn good or you are sort of disappointed. So that´s why I don´t feel bad when I say that all three of us have puked our guts out on this trip, and not once from alcohol.

Every country has its one street food that you come back to again and again - for the quick breakfast, lunch or dinner. You combine it with the local pop (here, "guarana") and it´s a meal for just a few dollars. In Greece, it´s the chicken gyro. In Costa Rica, rice & beans. In Italy, the panini. In Asia, some variation of fried rice. In Belgium, the waffle. In France, the crepe. In Spain, the tortilla espanola. You are trying to catch a train, a bus, hungry when walking down the street. When you have to eat every single meal at a restaurant or take out from a store for three weeks, you figure out what´s cheap and trustworthy. In Brazil, it´s the meat pie. Either a pastel (fried dough with meat inside) or the empanada/empada (flaky biscuit with meat inside.)

After arriving in Rio, we checked into our little hostel, the Ipanema beach house (2 blocks from ipanema beach!), and wandered around. For a little late lunch we stopped at a cute little meat pie fast food place with a trustworthy-looking grandma face on the sign. Now how can abuela steer you wrong? Kate and Kathy had some meat pie and I had some other pre-wrapped thing and a bizzare-tasting fruit shake that I picked by just pointing to the portuguese menu. Later, went out for a thai dinner, happy to be in Rio, even though none of us were 100%. At dinner, Kate had the familiar symptoms that I had on new years day. nausea, heartburn... We planned on having a night out in Leblon, which is the district next to Ipanema with some good nightlife, etc. Kate felt sick at dinner and we went to drop her off at home. All of the sudden, she violently puked in the taxi. I know the feeling well, because I violently puked in the crepe restauant in Buzios. Poor Kate threw up so much all of the sudden that we had to stop the taxi all of the sudden and she even threw up a little bit on me. The taxi driver must have thought we were drinking, but we weren't, I tried to explain to him. 20 reals and he stopped complaining and drove away.

Kate went to bed so Kathy and I decided to try one of the bars near the hostel. Being early (10PM), we had a few chopps (the ice-cold lite draft beer) it was kind of dead so we decided to call it a night. Early this morning, poor Kathy got sick and threw up a few times. It must have been the meat pie, or something the two of them ate. they were both illin´so today I took the favela tour advertised in the hostel.

Favela means slum. A few years ago, a couple of places in Rio began offering tours of the slums. Apparently the movie "City of God" gives a good example of the slums but I haven´t seen it. The tour guide, Luiz, picked me up at the hostel and I joined an Australian couple, a danish guy and a guy from L.A.

I have always been fascinated by slums. As a kid I had a reoccuring nightmare of getting lost in my yard in Battle Creek, then ending up in the slums of New York. I had that same dream at least 20 times. A tour of the slums initially sounds like a bad idea - some people are opposed to it, thinking that it exploits the poor, puts them on display. I went out of curiosity. The little tour company works with the people in the favela, teaching them not to beg but to produce artwork. It educates tourists and exposes them to the problems in Rio. Luiz knows some people who live in the favela, and had a lot of inside information on the rules and social structure. We drove over past Leblon, past Ipanema, over a hill and into a bad neighborhood. We had to be taken to the top of the hill, one by one, on motorbikes. I had no idea we´d be taking motorbikes and held on to my guy tight - pretty much burying my face into this shoulder, squealing and crushing his ribcage with my hands. We sped up a hill, between cars, around moving busses, I was so scared that sometimes I couldn´t look. He knew I was scared because I would shriek NO NO NO NO NO!!!!! and he would laugh YES YES! It was kind of fun, but scary as hell with no helmet, darting around all these moving cars on a steep hill on an angle with no helmet. so much worse than the Vietnam motorbike ride. I knew I wasn´t that much of a wuss because the guys were a little shaken too at the top. The favelas are on very steep hills, pretty much vertical cities.

We started wandering througth the favela - Luiz was a great guide. At the entrance of the little narrow streets, he pointed out a guy with a walkie talkie and told us he was big drug dealer looking for police. When police are near, they set off firecrackers to warn everyone. It´s safe for us as tourists, but police would have trouble there.. 2 months ago there was a big raid and 5 people were killed. The drug lords run the favela. Luiz pointed out gang graffiti, pointed out bad people. There is little or no crime among people living in the favela - the drug mafia keeps them in line, they basically run the favela with an honor system. The people pay no taxes but get free electricity and gas. When we were walking, I heard firecrackers and pops three times. Probably the worst neighborhood I have wandered through for that long, but not shockingly bad. They have water and some little stores. The shocking thing was how the drug dealers run the community and the police and governement can´t change it. Kids and old ladies live there too, they are totally safe as long as the police don´t come, and they get out of the way when they do. There is terrible plumbing and garbage everywhere - horrible, horrible smells. We stopped in a meat shop and a man killed a live chicken for us (yuck! and sad!). I really regret wearing flip flops because it was raining and sewage was running down the street. we stopped in some guy´s house and I bought a small painting that I liked - an abstract painting of the favela. They had the paintings there for sale because of the tours teaching the people to make art instead of beg, that kind of thing. Down the street, some kids were selling some little paintings they had done on cardboard, and bracelets made out of electrical wire. I bought a tiny little crude cardboard painting of the favela with Christo the redeemer in the background. It´s so cute, just a child´s painting, I love it. The kids were cute and polite, it was 5 reals ($2.50) going to my little artist. We visited a day care center and played with the kids awhile. Wandered through the favela some more and got to peer into some houses. The whole thing was fascinating to me but I thought, some neighborhoods in Chicago or New York are like this too. Run by the drug lords. In Morro, Michiel was telling me that when he and Vishalini did the favela tour a few weeks ago, they weren´t all THAT impressed because they work with poverty in Africa every day. Few people really get to see that. The Rio favela had concrete and some (bad) plumbing, unlike parts of Africa. I´m still glad to see a little 4-person company making the most of it, helping the locals and that kind of thing. (http://www.bealocal.com/) It was an interesting opportunity for me as a dumbass middle class Chicagoan but you have to remember that this kind of thing happens all over the world, not just in Rio. I´m really glad I did it, though.

I think Kate is feeling better and we may go to Lapa for some live music for her last night. I think Kathy is still illin´. They have been such great travel buddies. Kathy and I have been on many trips and have pretty much seen it all - having things stolen, looking for a room forever, taking loooooong bus rides, but this one really takes the cake for us all getting sick at different times. The three of us have had a really good easygoing, funny trip. Having good travel buddies is key.

I just had a great dinner of random BBQ meats and some middle eastern salad at a swanky restaurant around the corner of the hostel while K & K rested in the hostel. I´ll try to stir up some more trouble in Rio for you! XO, Schirmy

BRAZIL: goose/man-wolf/possom on the roof

Our apartment in Ilha Grande was our own separate building, surrounded by trees and thick plants. It´s spooky. After coming home last night early (2A), We crawled up into our upstairs loft, I put my earplugs and eye mask, and went right to sleep. I kept hearing Kathy and Kate talking and laughing and panicking about some noise on the roof but I just drifted off to sleep. The last I heard was "doesn´t abuela hear it??!!" (They still only call me Abuela - my grandma camera, my swollen ankles, worrying about the rain...) At 4AM, when I was fast asleep, Kate started screaming bloody murder and screamed THERE´S SOMETHING IN OUR ROOM, IT GOT IN!!! This scared the living hell out of me and I jumped out of bed, screaming, grabbed the railing and tumbled/jumped down the stairs in the dark. Kathy was screaming too. I thought there was somebody or some animal in our room. But no, Kate had some nightmare. Now I have a bunch of bruises on me and I look like someone beat me up. Apparently, they had been hearing some loud animal for hours, some scraping and knocking and sliding around on the roof so loud they couldn´t sleep. It doesn´t sound scary now, but at the edge of a tiny jungle town, in the thick trees when you are alone in your own building it´s scary as hell. They were trying to look up in the lonely planet Brazil what it could be, and apparently there is some animal called a man-wolf (!) , or something. That´s what I secretly hope it was. In the morning, the pousada lady thought it might be geese taking refuge on our roof in the rain. I´m still hoping for man-wolf. Last night was kind of creepy and sinister with the rain. It was really hard to sleep after that, it felt like a horror movie. You know when you get that horrible feeling in your gut, like when I watch the Exorcist, it was like that. It´s been a long time since I was that scared.

For our last night in Ilha grande, we went out to one of the few restaurants in town we hadn´t yet been to for some pasta, then went to the two tiny bars in the main square (where else) to people-watch. We ran into our Argentinean friends, Santiago, Thomas, Frederico, I forget all their names. We had some beer with them, then all went to their place a few blocks away, partly out of curiousity to see how messy their place was. OK, we were bored. It was raining. And it didn´t disappoint. Mattresses pulled out on the floor, the couch taken apart, a certerfold of some magazine taped on the wall (of some lady named "Sabrina"), empty pot of spagetti on the stove, nothing but beer in the refrigerator, one bottle of hand lotion on the counter (which we teased Frederico about but he insisted he really used it as hand lotion). surfing stuff, the distinct smell of 4 or 5 guys all sharing an apartment...it was funny. They had been invited to some party down the beach at the hostel but kind of needed us to get in, just so that they didn´t appear like 3 guys crashing the hostel party to hang out with the busty norweigan girls, haha. We went along anyway, figuring there might be caiaparinas and maybe some British boys for us. But there was neither so we left them there. They were fun to hang out with in Ilha Grande, our Argentinean posse, we have some pictures with them.

We are now in Rio, in Ipanema, in a cute little hostel with a nice pool and deck area. I hope I don´t snore and annoy the other people in my room. I hope Kate doesn´t wake up screaming. I hope we don´t annoy the other people in the room by singing "dragonstea din tei" by O-Zone. Remember the website/email that was sent around with that video of a fat dutch kid lip-synching that song? I have it on my ipod. We sing it pretty much every day. There is even a spanish or portuguese version that I have heard twice here. Its a euro-trash classic, look it up on Amazon.com and I´m sure you´ll recognize it, I dare you to get it out of your head. We had a nice bus ride today to Rio through green jungle-y scenery. I listened to Afterlife, Everything but the girl and some latin music, it was nice and fit the scenery. I still just love the new i-pod.

It´s still raining but we have high hopes for hang-gliding tomorrow. I have no idea what we´ll do tonight. It is so wierd being back in a big city again! The beach area is beautiful, even in the rain. I love the mosaic designs they have all over the beach-front, very 60s mod. Steep little mountains rise right near the city, it´s a cool and stunning sight. Rio must have one of the greatest skylines.

OK, what time is it? It´s caiaparina o´clock.

BRAZIL: mistaken for a pothead

Remember on the first day, when my luggage was missing, how I bought that skirt with a Brazilian flag on it, and stripes with the colors of the flag? At the time, I wondered why it had a red stripe in it along with the green and yellow, and looked Jamaican. But never really thought about it again. Last night, when we were out, a guy gave me the thumbs up and said:

man: you like Jamaica, you like the weed?
me: uh, no, what are you talking about?
man: your skirt, you like the weed?
me: huh?"
man: you know what that means, don´t you?
me: huh? I had to buy this because American Airlines lost my backpack and I needed clothes.
man: (long laugh) Brazilians like Jamiaca, when they wear the colors, that means you like to smoke (mimes smoking a joint), you know...

So I have been wearing this skirt for two weeks that looks like I like Jamiaca, and I like the weed and the whole rasta thing. hahaha! I do like reggae music.. but not the other stuff! It has a Brazilian flag on it too. I guess when I get home I´ll have to wear it to Exodus 2 or the Wild Hare.

We are still in Ilha Grande. I had been looking forward to going to the beaches here, and today we took a 50 minute boat ride to what some consider to be the prettiest beach in Brazil, Lopes Mendes. And it was sprinkling! Actually, I really do think it was the most beautiful beach I´ve ever seen. Perfectly clear, warm, water. Surrounded by misty steep green hills and palm trees, just surreal. If it had been sunny, it would have been perfect. But I still enjoyed it and went swimming. Now it is pouring buckets outside - all there is to do it internet or watch novellas, kill some time before it´s time to go out for dinner.

We had a great time last night. I´m happy to be back in a small place where you see the same people over and over. We were watching people, having a beer in the main square - which is great because everyone in town goes to the same place at night. Sometimes people dance in the street, they mingle, it´s very social. We were laughing about this guy who was wearing a speedo with a long t-shirt and a knitted hat. Just out, without his pants on. We see that ALL the time. Brazilian men sometimes do not wear pants, even at 11PM when they are nowhere near a beach. Kate and Kathy have taken many photos of this phenomenon. Eventually he came over to meet us and told Kate that he wanted to go for a walk on the beach with her, which we have been laughing about all day. Later, we ran into our Argentinean friends and hung out with them for awhile. We are really starting to recognize everyone in town, and I´m sure they recognize us. The huge Swiss family with 6 blond, moppy-haired kids (we call the swiss family robinson), the Austrian Rick Steves-like solo tourist with the sensible hiking shoes and daypack, our Argentineans, the three other American girls in town who we´ve never talked to and like to refer to as "our rival gang"... The odd hippie woman who was doing hillarious sexually provacative stretching excersizes on the beach, the norweigan girls with breast implants, the guys with dreadlocks, the guy with one leg...

Tomorrow we go to Rio for a few days. I admit, I´ve had high expectations of Rio and might be let down. I´ve always built it up in my mind as this exotic, sunny place with samba music and beaches. I know it´s loaded with slums and cime too, but that´s just never been part of the fantasy. We´ll see if it lives up to my Getz/Gilberto-esque expectations or if I just get mugged.

BRAZIL: In 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue

After a few days in Buzios, it was time to go somewhere new. We had no real plan, though. We have been really falling into a pattern of slack. New Years day night we treated ourselves to a nice dinner at a beautiful cuban restaurant for our last night in Buzios, went to bed absurdly early (1AM) and said "whoever wakes up first goes to buy bus tickets to Rio". Thank God Kate woke up at 9 and went to the bus station while I was still sleeping. We had an hour to pack and get ourselves out. That involved checking out with our pousada hosts, Karena and Danielo.

Karena is a piece of work. She is maybe 60ish. Frizzy brassy hair from too many attempts to make dark hair blonde. She wears a red muumuu, or something like a sarong that she wraps around her slightly flabby body in a very percarious way - like if it catches on something, the whole thing will fall off. It´s just one piece of cloth. Same one every day. When we arrived, she hugged us and sat on the terrace (with hammocks and couches) and told us about her 5 husbands and some of the random places she´s lived. How some of the towns around here gave her some good times in the 60s and 70s. Her voice is similar to a truck backfiring. A combination of broken muffler and Patty & Selma from the simpsons. Years of hard living have seasoned this woman. There are pictures of her in the lobby as a young, carefree woman in the 70s, with wild, crazy hair, posing with what we guessed to be the 5 husbands. We even found a photo collage of her with, I guess, all the different husbands. Husband number 5 and co-owner of the pousada, Danielo, is just a meek little old Grandpa. Karena clearly wears the muumuu in the family. I have been imitating her laugh for days. It´s kind of a raspy bark that she gives after chuckling and rolling her eyes. She would tell us something in a combination of spanish, english and porturguese, then, heh heh, heeeeaaagh! Picture Marge Simpson doing it. Now you got it. She made sure to charge us for every little ride they gave us in their car and every single thing we consumed out of the minibar for three days. (heh heh. heeeeagh!)

We thankfully got on the morning bus to Rio, ran around the bus station trying to get tickets to Angros do Rios (by writing it on a piece of paper in portuguese from my translation book) and ran on the bus 5 minutes before it left. Another 3 hour bus ride, then a 1.5 hour boat to Ilha grande. We arrived at 10PM but could see that it was a lush, tropical paradise. We are in the south of Brazil now, and the vegetation is very different from Salvador and our first week here.
Because it is the high season, we couldn´t find a room for awhile and thought we were going to have to sleep in the Christmas manger ouside the church. We went into one place that had no room, I gave my panicked pity-on-me-face, and the guy´s friend knew of a place and walked us there, with the beer he was already drinking and his girlfriend. Wasn´t that nice? N0w we have a two story little tiny apartment (bigger than some apartment´s I´ve lived in) where we sleep upstairs in a loft with a TV (novellas for Kathy and Kate). It´s great! Even a little kitchen for abuela. I doubt I´ll cook in it, out of laziness and fear of baratas, but it´s cute.

Nightlife in this town involves two open bars in the main square by the dock. It´s a small, quaint little town. I hate the word "quaint" but that is the only way to describe it. cobblestone streets, hand-painted signs and steep green mountains rising in the distance. We had some beer at the one bar (little 2-man live band with a guitar and bongo drums) and went across the street to the other bar. We were playing "guess the nationality" and met some young Argentenian guys. Very polite, very trustworthy. We were kind of making fun of one of them because he had a mullet and they came over to talk to us. They spoke great english and knew more about American pop culture than I did. They love the OC, Gilmore girls, Everybody loves Raymond, Friends, Seinfeld, E! Wild on, E! True Hollywood story, Best week ever. How do they have time for Argentenian TV too? They were telling us how they had to study English and American history for years in school. I was very impressed. One of them asked me when America was discovered. Now keep in mind, it´s been MANY years since I learned this and couldn´t think of the answer right away.

"uuh, 15-something? 1542..."

He laughed at me. My excuse was, and I had to think fast - "Well, it´s under debate!"

I am so stupid. Hello, 1492! I remember it now. But that was how some Argentenian boys made me feel stupid. And I fully deserve it. I deserve it for not knowing who the president of Argentina is or how to speak spanish better. Fellow Americans, we are so sheltered!

Today we went to a small, beautiful, wild beach near an abandoned prison. It reminded me of Costa Rica. Thick jungle and loud bird and insect noises. Absolutely beautiful.

BRAZIL: New Year´s eve with our new Brazilian family

Brazilian families are mighty entertaining to watch. At the water park, A boy of about 15 was wearing shorts that had the words "sexo" and "mujeras" (sex and women) all over them, while his mother was fussing over him and putting sunscreen on him. The Grandma was there, the whole families go out together everywhere, from the water park to the beach to the bar at 4AM. The WHOLE family. The guys we have observed are charming, a lot of them are cute, but they sure are mama´s boys.

For our second night in Buzios, we didn´t really know what to do because it seemed like all the bars had packages and everyone had a big night planned. This isn´t like the little thai town I was in last year. Lots of New Year´s anticipation in the air. Buzios has a real mediterranean feel to it, with the italian architecture and the whole Bridgette Bardot thing (she hung out here in the sixties, there is a statue of her by the water). In Brazil, the tradition is to wear all white, gather by the sea and throw flowers in the water at midnight. Then stay out all night. We did the best we could to wear white - Kathy had a white skirt, Kate had a white top and I had some white on my halter top (I don´t wear white when travelling, or ever! I attract dirt like Charlie Brown´s pal Pigpen.)

We had a crepe at a crepe restaurant/dance bar, then went back to the only bar we really know, Mix bar. (The previous night, thousands of people were out - it was crazy. we just kind of hid in the little mix bar because we liked the music and the caiaparinas - they had some good hits from the 90s and electronic music you know but don´t know the names of. The little Mix bar is where we hang in Buzios.). I had been feeling a little sick on and off for days. I think my body does NOT like Brazil. Like Greece, (TMI ahead warning - TMI) I have a.b. every other day, at least. I must be getting sicker because I threw up right after dinner from both ends of my body. Not due to alcohol, but likely from all the street food I eat at the beach. Like room-temperature meat empanadas that are probably hours old, and the pile of tapioca and shredded coconut on a plate with sweetened milk on it. That´s what I eat every day. So anyway, I had explosive diahrrea ALL night. At least 5 or 6 times. But I was determined to not let it ruin my good time! I was in Brazil for New Year´s and a.b. be damned, I was going to have a good time.

We sat right on the water and watched other people filter in. A big Brazilian family came and sat at the table below us. Kathy, Kate and I like to speculate about stranger´s lives and tried to figure them out. Are the dad and mom getting along? Is that the brother´s girlfriend or just an affectionate sister? 

We have also been enjoying Brazilian TV. Kathy and Kate have a certain novella (overly dramatic evening brazilian soap operas) that they like, I think it´s called "bang bang". It´s a drama, supposedly set in the old west, with a priest who is sleeping with a prostitute. It all seems very low budget. K & K have somehow managed to follow the storyline. Usually I lay in the hammock at that hour. This morning, though, I watched an elvis impersonator show where the people all sung in heavy Latino accents. I highly recommend the Brazilian TV. If I worked in our Brazilian office, I could place spots on Futura network on highly rated "bang bang!"

Happy New year´s everyone!

BRAZIL: convenience store by day, dance bar by night!

Arrial dájuda was a hoppin´place after Morro, in a different way. It had that real South American town feel to it, and less of a little beach town. Still very pretty, but a little more remnicent of what I saw in Peru, because that is my only reference to South American towns. Kathy and I pretty much spent our time either at the waterpark or walking up and down the one nice little street with lots of little live music bars.

Arrial is also known for being a famous hippie hang-out, which we did not fully discover until the second night. It was a very segregated place. You either hung out on the nice swanky street, with dark, candle-lit bars tended by attractive bartenders playing live Brazilian sing-along hits or deep house. OR you hung out near the main square, with the local food stands, the grocery stores, and where the rastas and hippies and more "keepin it real" locals hung out. The main square had constant loud music playing from everywhere. We wandered through a little art fair that could have been the Ann Arbor art fair - basically, lots of hippie crap and handicrafts, stuff from the Amazon (supposedly) and homeade hemp jewelry.

After doing our nightly rounds on the nice street, we always peeked over into the more ghetto main square to see what was going on. This is a small town, basically an 800 meter walk from one side to another. On the second (and last night) in Arrial, we noticed once again that the convenience store had turned into an impromptu dance bar. People were drinking and dancing wildly right in front of the counter. Now picture in Chicago, going to the White Hen or 7-11 (witho no real walls because everything is open) at midnight, and dancing there after buying some beer. To some LOUD music. Fun, isn´t it! I also noticed that the Supermercado played dance music as well.

Yesterday, Kathy and I checked out of arrial and boarded another loooong bus. This one was 15 hours long. That´s longer than flying from Chicago to Tokyo. But actually, this longer bus ride seemed shorter than the 8.5 hour one because it had reclining seats, a box of snacks and TVs. Very nice! Every two hours or so it would pull into an enourmous rest area/restaurant along with several other busses from the same company. At 4:20AM we made one of our stops and discovered that the bus was no longer there after we went to the bathroom. I had a hissy fit, of course, and Kathy made me calm down. After we saw that everyone else on our bus had been left too, I felt better! After 2 hours at this random rest area place in the middle of nowhere, they got us another bus. After the 15 hour bus, we boarded a 3 hour bus, then a one hour city bus and now we are in Buzios with Kate!

Buzios is Fan-cy. I get the feeling this is going to be a E! Wild on New Year´s. I could just see Tara Ried stumbling around here. There are expensive shops, lots of pretty colorful boats in the harbor and apparently there are like 6 nice beaches around here. We are still exploring the town and catching up.

Hope everyone has a nice new years! I´ll write tomorrow. Now comment! We want comments from home!

BRAZIL: a barata!

I am not afraid of insects, I really don´t mind most of them. Like the cute big green walking sticks, the giant moths, the insect that goes "DITDITDITDITDITDITDITDITDIT!!!!" like a machine gun out in the tree next to the hammock at dusk. They entertain me. But there is one insect I can´t deal with, the cockroach. I hate them so much. Last night when we were getting ready to go out, the big double doors to the porch were open and I saw a big thing fly in, I thought it was a moth. But no, it was purple-black and when it stood still on the wall, I could see what it was. It was HUGE. about 4 inches long. And it flew. Once, in Costa Rica a roach flew into my sandal but this one was bigger. I had to make sure it wouldn´t fly away and Kathy got the hotel lady to come up and kill it with some noxious fume-type insect killing spray. I cowered and acted like a baby while they killed it and took it out in a paper bag. I think the only thing worse would be a tarantula. I can´t deal with those, either. And I never want to run into those insects that lay an egg under your skin and cause a worm to hatch there, causing terrible itching. Or the worm that swims up into your system when you pee in the water.

Anyway, we are in Arrial dájuda. we arrived at 6:30AM after being on the bus all night and I was really grouchy so we didn´t get a good feel for it until last night. Our hotel is out off a side street down a dirt road, lots of loud birds and insects. We have a huge, beautiful polished wood balcony and sometimes you can smell the neighbor´s pot being smoked. The beach is really crowded with Brazilians on vacation - the last town had way more foreign tourists. They play music on the beach too, which I like. The town has no buildings over two stories and is very colonial-looking and pretty. There is an old section of town with a fascinating supermercado (I love foregn grocery stores!), and a street called broadwai that has fancy little shops and nice little intimate restaurants. It´s very hopping. We found some thai food last night, which made me very happy!

Today we went to a huge waterpark outside town. I never thought I would go to a water park on vacation but it was awesome. Went down the water slide 4X and they had a great wave pool! Kathy and I also floated down a little river in inner tubes. We were so clearly the only foreigners there. I met a Brazilian couple on the waterslide and they saw me later looking for Kathy. Never having met her before, they still knew which person was the friend I was looking for. The girl said "sara, I think I saw your friend over that way". Sure enough, there Kathy was. Yeah, we stand out!

BRAZIL: The long bus ride through nowhere

So I believe I last left you before we went out Christmas night in Morro de sao paulo. We started with our usual crawl through town (the one sandy path), starting with fruit drinks from my 13 year old fruit girl, to bar 87 , dinner at beach 1, back to bar 87.. During dinner we revisited one of our old favorite games that Kathy and I invented on another vacation a few years ago. It´s called German, American, Israli or Australian. We watch people walk by and guess where they are from. It´s kind of a lame game but it entertains us when we need it. We ran into another English guy named Jude from the night before and asked him where he was going next, because everyone we recognize seems to be leaving town at the same time. He proudly told us that he was going to "an 8 day psychedelic trance". OK, who can do that for 8 days! What happens at an 8 day psychedelic trance in Brazil? I can see, maybe a 2 day psy trance. But 8 days? Then we saw an italian guy wearing a t shirt that said "100% negro". Lots of good people watching on Christmas night. At bar 87, we were laughing so hard that we had to explain to the people at the next table. That´s how we met Claudio and Fernando, two Brazilian guys on vacation - they live in Southern Brazil somewhere, I forget where. Unlike some of the other local guys we have met in town (the guy who rubbed up against Kathy and the waiter), we got a good feeling about them right away. Claudio is a psychiatrist and Fernando works with computers, I think he said. They were smart and really fun to hang out with. It was nice to hang out with some actual Brazilian people. Usually the Americans, Brits, Irish and Aussies hang out together out of general laziness for not speaking the local language and getting eachother´s jokes. They spoke english so we got to learn some things about Brazil and life in general, that kind of thing. I still feel like a dumbass for not knowing how to speak portuguese better. The bar was set on fire and we had a beer with the other English neighbors who were also there.


We decided to go swimming in the little hotel pool at 3AM. The night shift worker tried to get us to come out and pretended that he had to clean the pool (at 3AM on Christmas!?). We were a little drunky drunk and Kathy tried to get him to come in with us and said "come on, last one in is a rotten ovo!". Ovo = egg, one of the few portuguese words we know, from breakfast every day. He laughed at us and made us go to bed. I really loved that pousada and everyone who worked there.

now for the overnight bus ride! woo hoo!

We knew we had to start working our way south to meet Kate in Buzios in a few days. So our only option, besides an expensive plane ticket, was an overnight bus ride. Brazil is an enormous country and to go just a little ways on the map it´s sometimes a 24 hour bus ride or something ridiculous. So we took a boat and a bus to the next town, then waited in the bus station for over 4 hours, got on our 9:20P bus, which was really late, and rode for the next 8.5 hours (then got on another boat to get here). We thought it might get on some super highway and we could all just sleep or watch a video. Oh, no no no no. The bus driver closed some curtains in the front and it was dark so we had no idea what direction the bus was going to hurl next. The first hour was like being on an amusement park ride. Huge drops, sharp turns, all in the dark, each minute a surprise. Then the road got bumpy and the next 6 hours was constant bang bang bang bump bump, lurch, swerve, bang bang bang. Maybe the bus had bad shocks because our seats would all bounce up and down too, in unison. Then, for no reason, every hour or so someone would run up to the front of the bus, bang on the front door and the bus driver would mysteriously let them off in the middle of nowhere, in the dark, not at a bus stop. All you could see were big jungle plants lit up by the headlights. What were they doing? In the middle of the night, who just runs off a bus in the middle of f-ing nowhere? Oh, I recognize that dark palm tree silhouette, I want to get off!? Every two hours or so we would pull into a little tiny town, paved with cobblestones so we would all wake up to a new kind of bumping and lurching down little streets. We would wait at a tiny, deserted bus station for 5 minutes and get on the road again.

So now we are about halfway back to Buzios/Rio in a new town called Arrial dájuda. This means another overnight bus ride in a few days or we may try to find an affordable flight. Arrial dájuda is cute but I like the beach at Morro better. After 6 nights I got so attached to Morro de sao paulo. I do like that they play music at the beaches here, though. And the restaurants look really good. We have a nice little hotel with a lot of birds and animals around. There is a water park here too, somewhere outside of town. Supposedly it´s the biggest water park in Latin America. So that´s what we may do tomorrow.

OK, Im in the internet cafe and my FAVORITE brazilian song is on again and Kathy still hasn´t heard it yet because she always walks away right before it comes on at the beach and now here. I´m going to ask the guy who works here what the name of it is. I think she´s getting sick of hearing me hum it, and I know she´s sick of me making my favorite bird call. Every morning, no matter what town I am, I hear this jungle bird squawking and I love his little bird call. REEEEEEK! REEEEEK! I keep catching myself doing it randomly throughout the day, I´m really going to have to stop. Yeah, I´m just a pleasure to travel with!

I think I fixed the post feature so it´s easier to post. If you read this, let me know you are reading! Hope you all had a great Christmas. Send me an e-mail if you get bored at work!

BRAZIL: The underbelly of Morro de sao paulo

well, its christmas and Im absolutely certain nobody is reading this, but you may need some entertainment when you return to work!

I had such a nice, innocent existance here until last night. I had the same routine - wake up at 8, make an egg mc muffin with the hotel breakfast ingredients, lay in the hammock until 10, call AA, buy things, beach from 2 to 4, internet at 5, lay in the hammock, have a skol from the frigo bar in the room, people watch, chat with people I met in town or on the boat, dinner, bed by 11. I mean, I wasnt going to go out and drink by myself, and i was still too worried about crime. I had no idea what a lively place this little beach town can be until kathy came and we stayed out until 4AM.

First, photos with an old raggedy man wandering around dressed as Santa. Then, we watched some capioera, a brazilian sport or dance thats a combination of kickboxing and dancing. sometimes people get in a circle, someone plays drums and they take turns capioera ing. its fun to watch.

We started with the fruit people. I seem to have been manipulated by a 13 year old girl. There are maybe 15 different fruit stands in town, those stands where you pick fruit to have blended into a drink. When you first get here, you tend to pick your favorite fruit person and you feel guilty getting it from someone else. well, I do anyways. My favorite is this girl who cant be older than 14. a little child labor. Its to the point now where she yells at me from 20 yards away and i have to hide my cup if I get it from someone else. She knows exactly how to make my drink, too. I don't even have to tell her. watermelon, guava, lime with vodka. If I pass her and don't get a drink she yells AMIGA, AMIGA! until I'm out of sight. If I even admire the fruit at another fruit stand, i feel like I am cheating. If I'm holding another cup I hide it. She's a great manipulator


Later we went to the hotel porch of some British guys I know just from being here 5 days. they are our neighbors and were drinking a bottle of vodka that costs $2.50 and mixing it with room temperature coke. That was too gross even for us. Except for them and us, our little third beach area is filled with israelis. There are a lot of them vacationing here. Due to language barriers, we havent really gotten to know them. We usually hang out with the Limeys and Irish and people who understand what we are saying.

We wandered the town and found a local dance party with 50 Brazilians and us. Ill say it again, those people can get down! we watched for awhile and Kathy started getting hassled, not bad, but enough to leave. Some guy liked her light hair and eyes. So we found our British friends again= Joe, Ollie, simon and some other ones, and drank with them in the outdoor bar.

Then we all wandered up to the grossest discoteque I have ever seen, a shack that smelled like sweat. The locals danced outside, the tourists all hang outside. I didnt even know there was a discoteque here!

At 4AM and we just decided to call it a night. Im sure the brits stayed up until sunrise. And thats what this place is like on Christmas eve. Cool, huh!

Today we woke up and went to the beach. Kathy gave me a coconut and soap, i gave her a tank top and the beach blanket from M and V. Sorry to all of you in Chicago but it was about 90 degrees today and so hot that I about disentigrated into the sand. If you get jealous of this, remember the days when I washed my one pair of underwear in the sink every night.

People chatted around us in all languages while we listened to brazilian music thru the loudspeakers. I have a favorite song but have no idea what it is. dum da dum dum dum, dadadadada! Its catchy. We saw the funniest thing happen. Two people went out into the ocean so their beach blankets were just sitting there. A stray dog came over and dropped a raw chicken carcass head on one of the towels and walked away for a bit. The dog came back, sat on this guys towel and chewed away at the slimy, bloody chicken head. beak, eyes, and all. They came out of the water and saw what was happening, the dog ran off. I still laugh when I think about it. Imagine coming back to your towel and finding a chicken head on it.

BRAZIL: The refugee boat

Yesterday I had to take a 2 hour boat to Salvador and another one back here to fetch the backack. The ride to Salvador, which I thought would be the nice catamaran again, was a nasty crowded fishing boat that looks like a cuban refugee boat. The main cabin was filled with empty paint buckets and smelled like paint thinner. At first I enjoyed the huge waves and the feeling of almost falling in the water, and I was delighted at the smell of paint. I really do like the smell of paint. Kind of how I like the smell of black marker & fresh gasoline from the pump. It was me and 20 brazilians. The first 5 minutes of the ride was fun, then it got very hot in the boat and i started to feel seasick. After an hour, I thought surely two hours have gone by but no, halfway done. The brazilians were popping nausea medicine and I just tried to sit still and keep my eyes on the horizon. Seasickness combined with hot paint thinner is not a good sensation. I ran out to the side of the boat to get some fresh air and got smacked in the face with salt water. It was such a horrible boat ride, I still feel sick when I think about it. Even the churrasco flavored potato chips (they have potato chips that taste like grilled meat!) didn´t help. (shocking, huh) I made sure to get a catamaran on the ride home.

The food in this town has been really good. Last night I had homeade canelloni with lobster and ginger coconut sauce. It was so good! the other night I had split, grilled lobster on the beach. The irish guy had to show me how to dig the meat out and I think I accidentally ate some tomalley (liver) but it was good. On the beach there are guys who walk around with buckets of hot coals and they will grill up queijo curado, cured cheese, on a stick. It´s salty and delicious. And people who sell pastels, little meat pies. I always eat lunch right on the beach. I can´t help but think of all the health codes that are being violated here after my safety and sanitation class for culinary school. Lots of time\temperature abuse that is the lead cause of food poisoning! haha. like the very room-temperature crab pastel out of a basket I had today. It was clearly not being served at 145 degrees. Oh well!

Kathy just arrived and I gave her the tour of Morro de sao paulo. I can´t wait to show her some of the local characters I see each night. Maybe I´ll describe them in a later post. This is my 5th night here so I´m starting to really see and be seen by the same crazy people over and over!

Merry Christmas!

BRAZIL: reunited and it feels so good....

Me and backpack are reunited. yesterday, I made my daily call to AA. with the hold music and announcements I have memorized. because this has been such a big part of my last 5 days, I will dictate it for posterity on my blog:
_________________________
....the first noel... music....
(man´s voice) - thank you fo calling amereecan airlines. All of our atteyndans are beeesy. Pleese hold fo next availabo agent...
....the first noel....
random portuguese announcement.
repeat. 15 or so times. then someone comes on. then I am transferred. repeat again 10 more times.
I am sorry mrs sara, we steeel have no word on your bag.
_________________________

I have used up a couple of hour long phone cards, if that gives you an idea. I will always associate "the first noel" with being at a pay phone, sweating and feeling my blood boil.

they still couldn´t tell me where it was. So I e-mailed the hostel to see, just in case, it had been delivered by AA. What do you know, it came yesterday. So AA delivered it, but couldn´t tell me, I had to find out for myself. I love how their new ad campaign is "we know why you fly". But they don´t know where my bag is. Oh well, it really does happen with every airline. I posted a message on the Lonely planet thorn tree and several people have had the same thing happen on all different airlines. So I made an 8 hour total round trip to salvador today to pick it up.

So! This is my fourth night in Morro de sao paulo. It´s rare that I am this content hanging out in a town this long. I really like it. It´s in my top three favorite beach towns of all time, along with Montezuma costa rica and Mykonos. When my ferry came in today, I thought "I´m home!". I have settled into a little routine of laying on my hammock, going to the beach for hours, internet, doing my evening stroll, having caiaparinas with dinner. I have started to meet some of the other tourists here. An irish guy, two english guys, an austrian guy who is a doctor specializing in tropical disease. I keep running into them. The english dudes, who I met in the ocean, told me about some party last night but I fell asleep too early to go look for them. And strangely, I have been waking up at 8AM every day! What is up with that? At home, I have a little sport my friends and I like to call X-treme sleeping, but I have really slacked off.

I'm starting to think a lot of people who travel are drawn to the same places. I saw a guy with a "cusquena" beer shirt (peruvian beer from Cusco, where I went 2 years ago) and someone had a "same same but different" shirt on (Thailand). An american girl I met had a thai elephant change purse that everyone buys when they go to Thailand. Thailand and Brazil draw some of the same crowd. And there are a fair amount of people doing the big X-amount of months in South America trip, where Cusco and Salvador are both on the backpacker trail.

I also have some new roommates, of the reptile variety. Twice I have found little lizards in the room. I named them Kathy and Kate after my other, future, Brazil roommates. I scooped Kathy up and threw her on the porch but Kate ran behind the dresser and I have no idea where she went.

BRAZIL: Caiaparinas - yum

I love morro de sao paulo. It´s the perfect waiting place for the missing bag. Palm trees, lush vegetation, great beaches (there are about 5 I think), hardly any sidewalks or concrete, only sand. I don´t have to wear shoes ever. Not to eat in a restaurant, not to go to the grocery store or walk around. I don´t have to wear a shirt either. Each beach has it´s own little scene. I stayed in the second beach last night (only $10!) but I like the feel of the third beach so I moved. It only takes maybe 20 minutes to walk from one end of town to another. By 10 AM the heat is so stifling and the sun is so bright that it hurts to walk through the hot sand and everything moves kind of slow. Dogs pass out in the shade and look like they are dead. Tonight I have a TV! I actually forgot all about TV. I can definitely live without it but I may find something good. I guess here they watch these cheesy, overly dramatic novellas every evening. My guidebook says that there is even sexually suggestive children´s programming in Brazil! I also have my own little balcony with a hammock.

Last night I met up with my old college friend Michiel and his girlfriend Vishalini. I have not seen him since 1992, we figured. He lives in Nairobi and works in Africa doing UN things. He and V. have travelled all over, they are well educated people who have great stories and interesting jobs. It was really great to hang out with them, it really brought me out of my pissed off state. He´s the same old Michiel as college, same sense of humor, etc. But he lost his american accent entirely! V. disagrees and razzes him about it but I thought it was gone. That´s actually good for him because we really do have the most annoying accent to other people. (Especially in the Midwest, IMO. just ask anyone to say the words " yeah", "ranch dressing" or anything with the letter "a" - see what I mean? we are really nasally, like it or not! I also find Boston accents annoying and deep, deep south accents. sorry. I always have people say to me "you´re american, aren´t you" with the slightest little eye roll and laugh) So we started with caiparinas and they were the best ones I´ve ever had. I don´t even like them at home but here I LOVE them! The night quicky spiraled into alcohol, we pretty much drank our dinner. (well, we did have some pizza - and it was GOOD! who thought pizza would be good here?) M & V made me laugh so hard that once or twice I spit my drink out. They bought me dinner and drinks and had presents for me. That was so nice!! On the beach they have these crazy fruit display stands here, maybe 10 of them, all in a square, and you pick out what fruit you like with which alcohol you want and they make you a drink. we had several. If you make a bad drink, like I did, it´s your own fault because you picked out the flavors. It´s like the mongolian BBQ for drinks. As a culinary student it´s embarrasing to match flavors so terribly but I have never been able to mix drinks properly. Vishalini finally steered me right with watermelon, lime and some other mystery fruit. I can´t identify half the fruits or vegetables here. So everyone just sits outside and gets bombed on these homeade fruit drinks. If you make a bad one, or if your friend makes a good one, it only encourages you to go up and try again...and again and again.... I can´t wait for Kathy to get here so I can show her this phenomenon.

This morning I was slightly hungover so I laid in my new hammock, watched birds, drank my favorite new pop guarana and listened to my designated hangover CD, cafe del mar #5. It always works for me. I´m so glad I got the little ipod nano before I left. It´s the one little piece of luxury I have left. I´ve been listening to Bebel gilberto, the brazilian pop singer, and some other compilations of latin jazzy house stuff. It fits the scenery. I´m also obsessed with "seven days in sunny june" by Jamiroquai, the dance version. And George Michael´s "flawless/let´s go to the city"And "this must be the place" by Talking heads. I just rediscovered that song, I love the lyrics - great travelling song. (home.. that´s where I want to be, but I guess I´m already there..) And when I was super pissed off the other day, some guns & roses was nice to have. (Mr Brownstone!) I´m all about having a soundtrack to my vacations.

Oh, i forgot about this funny story. Yesterday I decided to wash the purple shirt (that I wore for three days straight), the black pants (for leaving and entering chicago) and socks. They were just too big to do in the sink. So I went to the first place I saw, the corner bar (called "funny bar" by the way) to ask the guy there where I could find a place to do laundry. He, for some reason, thought I was asking HIM to do my laundry. (I´m not surprised, I can´t speak portuguese for shit) He took me down the path - I still thought he was showing me where the laundry place was. But we stopped at a house and went inside. And he gave my filthy stinking laundry to his mother. And told me to pick it up later at the bar. I went there today and there it was, next to the liquor bottles, folded and clean. Isn´t that funny? Next to the funny bar they also have funny massage and as much as it pains me to pass a massage place and not have one, especially if they are calling it funny, I really shouldn´t. I still can´t take money out of any ATM here. That may be a problem in a few days. I´ve been charging way too much stuff. Other people have been complaining about the ATMs so I know it isn´t my card. And I know there´s plenty of money in there.

This morning I met M and V at the fourth beach and we spent a few hours there napping under a tree. I love that guys walk around selling empanadas, mangoes and coconuts to drink out of. They left to go back to Salvador today and continue on with their Amazon trip. I´ll miss hanging out with them, they really saved the day for me.

So tonight I´m going to try to find some crab to have for dinner. I´m feeling like a big seafood dinner. Funny, I don´t LOOK like a big seafood dinner. hahahahahaha

BRAZIL: 100% Rasta food cart

I saw a guy pushing a food cart that had a sign that said that yesterday and it made me laugh out loud.

So I took a boat to morro de sao paulo this morning. its a nice little beachside town with palm trees, hammocks, three or 4 clean beaches, etc. Nothing raises my spirits more than a nice beach! the boat over was just like greece with crazy sloshing from side to side and good brazilian pop videos to watch. i sat next to the greatest brazilian grandma. she talked to me for a long time about her travels and music. Her and her 60 something husband know all the words to these crazy pop songs! they go to concerts with the younguns. I loved them. I decided that i am going to leave my problems in salvador for a few days and hang out here and not think about the backpack. it was literally driving me crazy, i didn't sleep last night. So today i went out to buy some clothes.

Let me tell you, buying clothes in brazil is nothing like it is at home. I started with some neon green shorts and a black tank top with flowers on it. these were the most tasteful things i could find. then, I had to buy a bathing suit. what in the hell did i do to deserve that experience? my god. the bathing suits are SO small. i would just walk in stores and laugh and walk out. then i would tell myself, sara, you have one pair of underwear and you need to go to the beach. I even contemplated laying out in my underwear because it's black and could pass as a bikini. but that wouldn't fly. and it would mean that my hygeine had reached a new low. so i sucked it up and bought a pink bathing suit. size, grande. when i was shopping I acutaly told the sales people hello, soy gorda americana, need grande bathing suit. how about more grande. ok, more grande. mas grande. I made them laugh out loud though. i admitted it all up front in a joking way. I'm a fat american and i lost my luggage and need a bathing suit. may none of you ever have to buy clothes in brazil! i actually picked up a speedo for a guy thinking it was just my size for the bottom part of a bikini and got all excited. well, it was pink! what man would wear that! it]s a different world down here. they were like, um, miss - that's for the hombre. hahaha. i'm actually getting used to the clothes I bought. i'm in the internet cafe right now in the bathing suit and neon green short shorts. and i don't stand out at all in this outfit.

I'm meeting Michiel and his gf in an hour so I might as well shower and figure out which of my fabulous options I am going to wear. the neon green shorts, the 1980s pink tank top, the brazilian flag shoes or skirt, oh the options i have.

this internet connection sucks and i have no punctuation. i'll write more tomorrow. mediaedgers, hope you are having fun at the christmas party! don't you wish you had my clothes to wear to it?

BRAZIL: F-ing Am Airlines!

Well, it´s been a day and a half. Still no sign of my bag. I called them a bunch of times and they can´t even tell me what airport it´s at. no sign of it at all. I would be OK if they said It´s in Miami, it will be here tomorrow. Or.. It missed the connection but we are tracking it. Total mystery. I was only supposed to spend a night or two in Salvador and get on with my trip, go to some beach towns, wear my two new bikinis (that it took a month to find good ones that fit - I sure won´t find any here!), do my thing. But no. I have to wait here for the bag. I may meet my old college friend Michiel tomorrow in a nearby town (morro de sao paulo) because he is there for a few nights. I haven´t seen him in forever because he lives in Africa, that would be so fun. But I should really stick around here and wait for the bag with my whole life in it. And it gets worse! My ATM card doesn´t work in any bank in this town! I have enough money to get by, realistically for a week. And I have my credit card. I have been such a good sport. I have tried to have a sense of humor about it - if you travel enough it will happen to you. Every traveller has a story like this, it´s an adventure, I know. blah blah. The other travellers in the hostel are so nice and sympathetic too. I´ve vented to people from Fiji, England and the US.

I really like staying in the hostel. I have a nice room to myself with pretty wooden ceiling beams - bathrooms are shared but they are clean and it´s a nice communal feel, I don´t feel so helpless and lonely. Panicked, yes, but I have people to talk to. Last night a couple of us had some beers in the lobby. It´s one thing to have my bag lost if I was going to Oklahoma to visit my dad for the weekend and another one entirely when I´m in South America, have three people to meet up with on the vacation I have been looking forward to forever when my ATM card doesn´t work. Ok, enough about that. Please send me some good vibes, I really need them right now. I would, I dare say...oh...I can´t believe I´m saying this.... I would almost rather be at work entering added value into ad insights than have my bag lost. yes, so think about that, coworkers . I did have dreams about work last night. I dreamt about added value and those auto annuals. I woke up in a total panic about work. I hope those dreams go away SOON.

So! my random impressions about Brazil - now that I´ve been here for a day.

It´s so lively. There is literally someone playing drums on every street corner. There are bands and singing in churches and public squares. People are happy. They smile, they are polite. they haven´t mugged me yet. I am so grateful that I learned a few phrases - I use them all the time. Hello, thank you, excuse me, goodbye etc. And my spanish really comes in handy. I realize now how much spanish I have learned over the past few years, randomly and how little portuguese I know. I have that "I´m a tourist who doesn´t know the language" feeling all over again. I only got through lesson two on the portuguese CDs. Yes, I was a quitter. I started lesson three and my mouth couldn´t make the sounds. It sounds like a drunk, slurring French person. It´s nice to listen to, it´s a pretty language. Easy on the ears. I need to find a Brazilian man who talks like that all the time. Ok, maybe not. When my bag is delivered to me, I´m going to make out with my bag instead.

It´s so hot here. During the afternoon I found a nice cafe and sat in the shade reading memoirs of a geisha with drum beats coming from a distance. It´s so hot during the day that I sweat buckets. Makes the no clothing problem a little more tragic, doesn´t it! I´ve showered twice today with the shampoo I bought that serves as body soap, shampoo and laundry detergent to wash my one pair of underwear each night. Sorry about the TMI there. But it´s true. One pair of underwear, people! ONE pair, three days.

They have chicken flavored potato chips and a yummy soda called guarana. It tastes like a tropical fruit and comes in a cute green can. It´s so good. And the local beer, skol, doesn´t stink. It´s way smoother than other local beers I´ve had. (like you, Mythos. And you, Imperial) And it´´s the same price as pop. But I don't like to drink during the day. I usually wait for the noche. Oh, I mean the noite.

I swear, I really do - that I saw Jack Kevorkian yesterday in Rio getting on a plane to Porto Seguro.

Last night I wandered to a hidden square by the hostel and saw the best band. This area was settled by Africa, I think? (as opposed to Rio area) so the music is sort of african-sounding. I watched the Brazilians dance with some French people and man, those Brazilians can really shake it down. It was frenetic, crazy dancing and they all have huge smiles while they do it. But yet, they kept it clean. No obnoxious simulated sex grinding like people do in the US in the sports bar, after too many beers. Just good old fashioned, 100 mile an hour booty shakin´. And I loved that the crowd was 99% Brazilian. The brazilians are tourists here too, I don´t feel like they are just putting on a show for me as an american tourist. I hope they are playing again tonight. I met a nice guy name Gizle who looks exactly like the guy we knew in college. I thought it was him at first!

Well, that´s it for now. I´m at my hotmail account too if you want to send your sympathy!

love, Schirmy

BRAZIL: salvador!

Q. What do you wear if you are a Brazilian woman?
A. High cork wedge shoes, short skirt, long, long hair

Q. What do you look like if you are a Brazilian man?
A. soccer tank top, flip flops and a chain

Q. What do you wear in Brazil if you are a German?
A. man - glasses, buzz cut, hiking boots and backpack that mathces your spouse´s perfectly (who also has a butchy haircut)

Q. What do you wear in Brazil if you are me?
A. Well, you can either wear an extremely sweaty pair of track pants and a soaked-with-sweat spots purple t-shirt or quick, you have 1/2 hour before the stores close because you finally got into town and all your luggage was lost!

So I am sporting - the soaked with sweat purple tee, new blue flip flops with the brazilian flag on them and the shortest skirt I ever thought I would wear - also featuring the brazilian flag and stripes with the flag colors. yep. I had literally 1/2 hour to buy some clothes after FINALLY finding my hostel. It is so hot here I can´t wear what I had on. I was dying! i ran down the main square and found something that fit. Well, something that fits here. that could be anything. People wear clothes of all tightnesses here and the brazilian flag combo was all I could find. I think it actually looks less dorky than it sounds. Or maybe I´m delerious with no sleep for 1.5 days. No, I haven´t showered.

I am in Salvador finally, after like 2 days of travelling. My Chicago flight was delayed 1.5 hours so i had to run, run like the wind to my miami/rio connection. The Rio flight was funny. It was one of those looooong flights where you just can´t even think about the time because it´s SO disapointing when you do. You think you have one more hour and it´s always 4 or 5. I sat directly in front of two Brazillian gentlemen who kicked and tugged on my seat every time they had to get up, and they got up a LOT. They talked constantly and they both had nasal problems. the whole flight was like this, them talking:

blah blah blah something something blah blah...pause...sssnnnoooorrrrttttt!!!!!! blah blah

then the friend would be like blah blah blah something something..hahahaa...sssnnooorrrt!!!!

the whole time. Well, they did sleep for 2 hours. But is was all kicking and snorting for the other 6. The only thing I regognized that they said was one of them said: ´´I haf to take a peees!´´ Then, after I had been awake all night, I realized that there were no stewardesses on the flight, only stewards. They all looked alike, like brothers. It was so freaky. There were 5 of them. They were all 40-ish, tan, swishy, with significant sun damage and all looked like a deranged cousin of Antonio Banderas. Same facial features. At 7AM, I thought about it and started giggling until I was shaking with laughter for 5 minutes. I sat next to a nice Brazilian girl my age who also thought it was funny. Then, when we landed they plane blared take me home, country roads, a ´REGGAE version - LOUD - for no reason at all. Just piped the music in as we were landing. Then silence. It was the strangest thing. Then we went to the luggage carosel where there was a guy playing Stan Getz Brazilian songs on his sax with a synthesizer. I thought it was a nice touch. Until an hour later, he was still playing, and 20 of us still didn´t have our bags. So I just flew to Salvador anyway after waiting several more hours. Well, I tried to. We got on the plane, then had to get off because something was wrong with the plane! After all this, it was just funny. So I got a $7 massage in the airport and waited. and waited... for the next plane. And here I am, in hoochie clothes in Salvador. Tomorrow, I think - I hope, my luggage will arrive. After all the LMDA stress at work, this is nothing. I just have to laugh. My last 5 days have been a blur of putting buys together as fast as possible, sour gummy coke bottles, swearing, chocolate on every table at work, running around in the snow, being stressed, running to the airport and now this. No wonder I just broke out in bad acne.

Right now I am in the internet cafe - pronounced the internesh cafe. There is a live band outside my room window and another one outside here. Playing live Christmas music and other Brazilian stuff I don´t know. Salvador is so shady, most of it. I took the bus from the airport (a 1.5 hour long bus ride) and rode through some harsh neighborhoods. The whole time I kept thinking - I hope my neighborhood isn´t like this, I hope the whole town isn´t like this. Just me and the German tourists and a whole bunch of brazilians on the bus. It reminded me of Lima and parts of San Jose. But I´m in the nice neighborhood after all. I flew up here so that I could meet Kathy for the cool beach towns. She comes in a few days. Then we drift south to meet Kate. Salvador isn´t bad though. I can´t wait to actually see it in the light! At least it´s lively. I wanted lively. My neighborhood has pretty cobblestone streets and old architecture. Art galleries, etc.

Well, I told you I liked to babble at the internet cafe. the rule is, you read, you have to leave at least one comment.

more later! I hope to hear from you guys in one way or another. Ate lago, schirmy

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