| Barefoot Children In The Rain Moving Through Central Brazil, The Amazon, and the beautiful beaches of the North |
| We didn't know too much about Brazil when we boarded the plane out of Cairo other than they just won The World Cup, the country is home to the Amazon Rain forest, it hosts Carnival and that it claims to have some of the best beaches in the world. We actually felt like we were escaping a little bit from Egypt. That area of the world is just about as hot as it gets and the endless brown landscapes of the desert just became a little too monotonous. We traveled to South America in search of something different. We were going into this adventure blind...no info, no contacts and no guide book to point us in the right direction. During the course of our flight our situation changed with the help of two fun people, Johnny and Elida. By the time we landed in Rio de Janeiro we had a rough idea of some of the top places to visit, we had scribbled down a few Portuguese words and even had an invite to stay at their different houses! Upon arriving, we threw our packs down at Johnny's house and he took us on our first tour of Rio. He is one of seven million people who live in Rio (pronounced Hee-o). The city is absolutely stunning, one of the most beautiful we have visited, comfortably nested between the ocean and escarpment. Over the course of a few days, we walked the famous beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema shuffling our feet to the distant sounds of samba. We watched the local guys, young and old, play intense games of beach 'futbal'. We admired the tan girls strutting the beaches in their Brazilian bikinis (called "fio dental", literally - dental floss). And, we were constantly aware of the famous landmark, Christo Redentor, watching over the city. Rio has a terrific vibe; the general good feeling engulfs you. We were fortunate to have a friend, and also a guide. The massive poverty has made Rio notoriously dangerous. Even Johnny was constantly on his guard. He instructed us to keep small change in a fake wallet to hand over if, or more likely when, we got robbed. We were told to talk as little as possible in crowds so people would not hear our accents and to never sit in a parked car. There is definitely a sense of tension. We were pretty certain that we were being a bit over cautious...but hey, you just never know. Over a third of the people live in the favelas (the ghettos) that blanket many of the hillsides. The favelas are really nations within a nation, self contained units that function independently from Brazil. The people answer to only one person, and that is their "War Lord". He is usually a big time smuggler transporting massive amount of arms to Columbia in return for shipments of cocaine. I guess that the US Government has done a fairly decent job monitoring the coast of Columbia but can't even begin to watch the Columbia/Brazil border. The War Lords charter small aircraft to fly over the unpatrolled Amazon. The cola is then hustled down to Rio where it can be easily distributed. The poor of the favellas love these leaders. They provide income, health insurance, and giant BBQ's with free beer on a regular basis. Why not support them, the Brazilian government doesn't seem to care. In fact, these "War Lords" are so powerful that, after one was arrested he made a single cell phone call from prison and shut down every business, school and police station in certain parts of Rio...now that is big time power. All that said, the favelas are beautiful, especially at night when thousands of lights on the dark mountain slopes make it difficult to tell the difference when the land stops and the twinkling stars of the night sky begin. Thankfully we had no problems. Johnny was a terrific host driving us around the city and taking us to the local hangouts to hear music or to enjoy a few rounds of cerveja at the sidewalk beach bars while watching futbol on TV. Since we were planning to pass through Rio again, we decided to save some more exploring for our return. Johnny took us to the bus station so that we could visit Elida. She lives in Juiz de Fora (north 3 hours by bus) with her family. She picked us up at the bus station and took us to her house. We were welcomed with open arms from the family. Her parents, sister and nephew showered us with food, wine and photos. The family dog yelped in excitement due to all the commotion. It was a real treat to be around such wonderful people. This was the first area that we learned about "Motels", not to be confused with Hotels. They often have names such as 'Sinless Motel', 'Kiss Kiss Motel', 'Sexy Motel', well you get the point.... They rent the rooms by the hour, Brazil's solution to the lack of privacy caused by overcrowded living conditions. They are used by kids who want to get away from their parents and parents who want to get away from their kids. Amazingly, no one looks down upon these places, in fact it comes highly recommended by the Brazilians we have met. We were told that the rooms have mirrors on the ceiling, vibrating beds, saunas with two way mirrors, constant XXX movies and a menu with a selection of toys to rival Good Vibrations. At this time, we opted to stay with Elida's family but we made definite plans to check out some of these fun places at a later date. The next day we packed up the car with supplies for a camp out. After picking up her friend Ralf we were off to the small village of Ibitipoca. The town, nestled in the mountains which helps make up a beautiful national park, is not much more than a few restaurants and a scattering of bars. Life is very simple and we felt we were thrown back in time. The locals, true gauchos, arrived in big groups by horseback and were ready to throw down the local fire water called Pinga. This highly potent clear liquid is like rocket fuel. The cowboys walked by at an angle, eyes a blazing, trying not to trip on the cobblestones or step in horse shit. They were having such a good time, or at least the conscious ones, that we had to give the stuff a shot. The four of us split a bottle, slugging down shots out of cheap plastic cups. The stuff is strong and we wound up swing dancing around the camp fire as Ralf played all kinds of Brazilian music on his guitar. It was a great night to be camping out, the stars bobbing into view while Summer kept the fire popping. We lay on the ground watching the handfuls of sparks skittering into the fresh mountain air. We woke early the next morning for a trek. It was nice to stretch the legs since it had been a few months since our last major hike. Walking is something we both like to do but the sun and heat prohibited any such excursions during our last month in Greece and our time in Egypt. Elida and Ralf were great guides taking us to see monkeys, stunning views, and impressive waterfalls. It turned out to be quite a challenge and about 25 KMs later we made it back to the campsite to begin our journey home. It was a sad goodbye, but we had to keep moving. We made our way to the mountain town of Sao Jao Del Rei. It's an old gold mining town about 1000 meters up in the Brazilian highlands. Many of the buildings that line the avenues are hundreds of years old, showing just a glance of what it must have been like in the town's glory days. Time has taken its toll but it can't fully destroy the traditional beauty of the place. The town itself radiated energy and the first night we were there it seemed like Carnival. The streets were full of people drinking beer and dancing to bands of men hammering away on almost anything that made noise. It was a celebration, it seemed, just for the sake of celebration. There was cotton candy, children with glittery face paint, and vendors selling everything from boiled corn to scary masks. There was excitement all around us and the feeling we had was beautiful...we were already falling in love with Brazil. We stayed put for awhile admiring the pace under which a small town operates . We developed a routine of waking early but staying in bed letting the late morning mountain sunlight shine on our naked bodies through the window. Walking down to the local juice stand and grabbing coffee with some cheese bread (Pao de Quejo), taking an afternoon walk and then finishing the day off with some beer and cards/dice. One afternoon a thunderstorm rolled in announcing its presence with some deep thunder. The forward edge of the dark clouds was as strait as a ruler allowing the late sun to peak over and light up the old buildings. The brilliance of the illuminated buildings in stark contrast with the dark threatening sky, made them glow. When the heavy drops of water started coming down we moved our table and drinks under the awning. At the same time the children started appearing in the street from every little nook and cranny. It was time to cool off. They hastily stripped off their shirts and kicked off their shoes to frolic in the warm storm. It is so beautiful to see barefoot children play in the rain. It is magical to see them so carefree and just having fun, simply loving life. This scene, something we have been fortunate to witness in small towns around the world, is one that will always epitomize the essence of life and motivate us to always live for the moment. To see such innocent happiness was one of the many things we were searching for when we left to travel...we are happy to know that it does exist. Brazil is a huge country, roughly the size of the USA (excluding Alaska) and covers about half of South America. Therefore it takes a LONG time to travel from place to place, especially by bus on roads that are usually in rough shape. Although Cuiba didn�t look too far on a map, we knew we were in for a long haul to reach this town located in Western Brazil near the Bolivia border. We reluctantly boarded the bus, knowing we had a 36 hour ride ahead of us...that's right, 36 long hours on a bus. Although relatively clean with comfortable seats there was no mistaking it for luxury. A bus is a bus is a bus....like unchanged undies, some things are just always a little gross. There is a certain bus smell that we have become quite familiar with. No matter how new the bus is or how much they clean they can never get it out. It is a stench of cheap disinfectant, old food, and lingering cigarette smoke that seems to blend together in the dry stale air. Add to that the overpowering sweet smell of puke from an unfortunate 8 year old on his first road trip and it is almost unbearable. The best way to pass the time is practicing the art of silent contemplation. You follow the lead of the locals and mindlessly watch the hills roll by rhythmically alternating between brown and green, depending on the crop. The only interesting change was when we would zoom past the occasional brush fire. The other option is to somehow let your body slip into a comma and sleep the trip out. The worn old farmer in the seat across from us managed to sleep for 31 hours. He either was catching up on years of missed sleep or had a secret stash of Valium. We pulled into the deserted Cuiba bus stop early in the morning, hours before the sun was scheduled to come up. We were fortunate to find a place that let us check in so early. The town itself is rather boring with little to impress upon a tourist. The wonder lies in the region around the town with it�s natural beauty. Our first excursion was to Parque Nacional da Chapada dos Guimaraes, an easy day trip from town. A small group from the pousada (the place we stayed at...similar to a very small hostel or like a pension in Europe) hired a guide who took us in his VW van to show us the highlights. Much of it was similar to what you might see in the American Southwest with its dry rugged terrain and its large plateaus. There are a handful of rivers that cross the area and occasionally spill over the ledges into impressive waterfalls, the highest being the Veu de Noivia (Bridal Veil) falls. The water drops an awesome 86 meters into a deep pool below, surrounded with dense foliage. The following day we took off on our big adventure to the Pantanal. This region is a vast wetland with the greatest concentration of animals in South America. Known as Terra de Ninguein, or Nobody�s Land, it is a peaceful haven of vibrant green meadows broken up by pockets of dense jungle, massive rivers and picture perfect lagoons that boast an amazing abundance of plants and animals. We were fortunate to be visiting during the dry season since it provides optimal circumstances to view the wildlife in their natural habitat. During the wet season, October to March, as much as 70% of the region floods...scattering the animals. Over a period of months the water begins to drain south to the Atlantic forcing the animals to collect into different streams and pockets of water. We were able to see all types of animals, it was like entering a zoo. Along each side of the road were hundreds of Caiman, a huge reptile easily mistaken for a crocodile. There were zillions of different types of birds we saw, including toucans, white-necked herons, hawks, and the red and the blue macaws. We went for rides on a small boat during sunset and early before the sun rise when the animals are most active. We meandered down the labyrinth of water ways twisting our heads back and forth like we were watching a tennis match to see all the animals in action. The Caiman would eye us cautiously, usually slipping into the water as we approached. Many would swim up to our little wooden boat to get a better look at us, just their eyes showing above the water. Even though the guide said not to worry, it was a little freaky. Piranha flipped out of the water either on the attack or getting out of the way of the Caiman. It was a collection of wildlife on a level that neither of us had ever witnessed. We explored even further on horseback in the afternoons crossing the vast plains and traversing streams. We searched high and low for the elusive jaguars or to catch a glimpse of an Anaconda but, much to our dismay, never found one. The closest we came to a jaguar was seeing his poop. In an attempt to kill a turtle he had overturned it and probably heard us coming, so pooped on it to mark his territory. As we were saving the turtle (flipping the poor little fella over), the jaguar was more than likely out there watching us... One of the afternoons we went fishing for Piranha. We paddled out into the middle of the river, tied a line on a bamboo pole and attached some meat to it then dropped it into the water. It didn�t take but 30 seconds before the first one was pulled out of the river. It was packed with these vicious fishes. They were smaller than we had thought they would be but they are fast and fierce. Their teeth are sharp as razor blades and they chomp away relentlessly. In fact, many of the local guides will show you their four finger hands when warning you to be careful. In only about an hour (we needed to get out of the hot sun since most of us were suffering from our Pinga induced hangovers...something nearly as deadly as the fish) but had still managed to catch 20 or 30 of them. Guess what was for lunch??? After the Pantanal we continued our journey north, once again via bus. For a few days everything turned into a hazy sort of dream. The combination of lack of good sleep, too much bad sleep, and the wicked heat made 3 rough days blur together...yup, 3 freakin' days this time. We were warned in advance about the journey we were attempting. We proceeded anyway to save a few bucks, paying no attention to our guide book which instructed us in large bold letters that "Bus Travel Is Not Recommended!!" Not because it was unsafe, just that the terrain and the broken roads are brutal. The three days it took to reach the riverside town of Santarem were some of the most difficult travel days we have had in the 20 months on the road but also some of the most beautiful. Once we started getting closer to the Amazon, the brilliant jungle began to unfold before us becoming more lush and dense. Five buses and one boat later, we were beat-up, bruised and exhausted as we rumbled into town. As if a signal that the hard journey was over we caught the sun rising over the vast waters of the Amazon, the dense jungle on the horizon just a black silhouette against the amber colors of the new sky. The tranquil scene unfolding before us was such a relief. We made it!!! Santarem is a pleasant backwater town where the dark Rio Tapajos joins the light brown Rio Amazon. From the water-front you can see the two different color bands as the waters begin the slow mixing process. There are cafes and pubs that line the river, a perfect place to chill out and watch the water flow by. The markets are full in the morning where there are endless baskets of fruits and vegetables. There are also hectic (and smelly) fish markets where big river fish are sold, tossed, sliced and diced for all the restaurants and for sending to the larger cities.....a pretty wild experience. The highlight of the area is actually the village of Alter do Chao 33 KM to the west. Just off the main square is a pristine white sand-bar which extends into the river. The sand is absolutely beautiful and the water is warm and clean, perfect for swimming. There are about a dozen beach huts that sell cold beer and snacks. Sunset over the river is perfect. The river is so large that it seems as if you are at the sea, the distant shore is visible only as a hair thin line. We were ecstatic to find out that we had arrived just in time for the Festa do Caire, the major folkloric event in the entire Amazon. It is an awesome celebration which last several days and has 1000s of participants. The origins can be traced to the early missionaries as well as to celebrate life on the river. All night long there is music, drinking, dancing, drinking, fireworks and finally more drinking. Locals and tourists (mostly from other Amazon River towns, not too many of us white skinned folks in these parts) mingle and party all night long. The energy builds and builds until just a few hours before the sun rises when 100s of dancers explode into celebration. Drums, lights, and fireworks build in intensity as everyone dances...arms in the air while cheering, laughing and singing. It was absolute chaos and totally beautiful, the most exciting festival we have been to in all of our travels. We were in rough shape after a big night at the festival. We thought, naively, that we could keep up with all of the locals...but instead realized that we just don't have the endurance anymore. We were met bright and early by a family which we had become friends with over the past few days. We had made a date with them to go to the beach. We just didn't expect to go at 8:45 in the morning. We had been home for less than 2 hours and couldn't find the energy so we agreed that noon would be much better. There was no backing out, they had been so sweet to us over the past few days taking us out for beers and having us over for a big fish grill out. The parents, Samual and Anna Marie, along with Samual's brother Beto, wanted to show us Brazilian hospitality and to also work on their English. The children, Samuel Jr. and Oliva, were excited to have two friends from the US. Anna Marie even gave us a beautiful oil painting (off her dining room wall) which she had painted and framed. She absolutely would not accept no for an answer even when we tried to explain it would be so difficult to carry. We met on the beach in the early afternoon which was now packed with Brazilians in for the festival. We found our friendly family relaxing at our favorite beer shack. The kids were noticeably excited when we walked up because they were bouncing up and down in their chairs. It turns out that dad had promised to pay for a Banana Boat ride once we arrived. So we threw down our bags and chased them down the beach and went for a thrill ride. We rallied nice from the morning and had a blast sharing laughs, telling stories (relying heavily on our dictionary) and playing in the sun. By the end of the day we were exhausted, Samuel Jr. had a fairly good grasp of Frisbee (which they insisted on calling "Flying Saucer") and Shawn had been humbled in beach soccer. The Brazilian people are lovely and beautiful, really going out of their way to spend time with us. Our departing good-bye was sad, we had developed a great relationship in less than a week but one that will last a lifetime. We took pictures , traded addresses, and made promises to keep in touch. Samuel Jr. had us sign his soccer ball to show his friends and Olivia gave Summer a beautiful earring. We ensured them we would write, Anna Marie wanted pictures of our wedding sent to them and Shawn promised to send Samuel Jr. a "Flying Saucer". We were sad waving good-bye as they made their way down the beach. At the last minute, Samuel Sr turned around and made his way back to us. He took off his really cool futbol jersey, still brand new (probably for the festival weekend) and gave it to Shawn as a special gift. They really are such special people.... It was time to pick up and go though. It�s easy to get stuck in a good place, which isn't such a bad thing, but we learned that our friend Sandra was going to be able to meet up with us for a few days. She was able to take a couple of days off after completing a project in Sao Paulo before heading back to San Francisco. We had to hustle to Fortaleza, a big resort city in the north of Brazil, so we booked an airline ticket to get us down stream to the nearest bus station. The flight was amazing...as the small plane climbed, the vast Amazon unfolded below us. It was an experience to see this huge rain-forest from the air. It is nice to travel inside it, but an entire different experience above it. The massive trees blended together in a soft green carpet that looked like moss. It is sad, though, to read about the damage we are causing to this precious ecosystem. We learned that about 7,000 trees are cleared every 5 seconds. Only 7% of the original rain-forest along the Atlantic still exists. This trend will continue with farming, ranching, hydroelectricity and mining all looking for more and more land to claim. From the plane you could see the smoke of massive fires rising in the sky. Fortunately for all of us, there are conservation groups working to educate the people about what an important role the Amazon plays in the global ecosystem. They teach the people the importance of sustainable development and the practice of ecologically sound business techniques. It's so sad to witness and realize the cost of progress. Our plane landed in Belem, where the Amazon reaches the Atlantic. We immediately hopped on a 24 hour bus (24 hours is nothing now) heading south-east along the coast to Fortaleza. We met Sandra at the airport and it was as if a day hadn't passed since we were last together. We had an excellent time catching up and enjoyed the opportunity to have such a wonderful person with us. We went to the beach by day and to great dinners at night (including an engagement celebration, Thank You!). Once again the Pinga reared its ugly head, this time hidden in a mixed drink called a "Caipirinha". It�s a mixture of Pinga, ice, lots of limes and loads of sugar. It tastes a little like a cross between lemonade and a margarita but packs the punch of a martini. They tasted a little too good and we found ourselves on the dance floor until the wee hours of the morning. Summer and Sandra dancing and wiggling to Brazilian Pop music and funny American classics, no doubt the highlight of many of the local fellas. It was sad to see Sandra go but we know we will be together soon enjoying life in Northern California. We left almost immediately after her for the town of Jericoacoara where we spent a week and a half. It is a really chill village, basically a collection of huts and small restaurants, accessible only by dune buggy, 4x4 or horse back. The streets are nothing but sand, making the simple act of walking around a little workout. The days were packed with activities... sand-boarding down the giant dunes, dune buggy rides to hidden lagoons, long walks on the beaches, and horse back riding during sunset. There is over 400 miles of empty coast, a perfect place to walk and waste a day. We wondered down the beach taking in the brilliant collision of the massive sand dunes with the white-capped sea. There is a constant and extremely strong wind that keeps everything cool and also keeps the swarms of wind and kite surfers happy. In the evening everyone in town climbs the largest sand dune for a smoke and sunset. It is a tradition that is sacred among locals and tourists alike. The best part is just after the sun disappears, there is a swarm of people that run straight down the 40 meter slope at break neck speed, sand flying everywhere. Talk about great fun! After shaking the sand out of your shorts and trying to get it out of your eyes and ears, everyone heads towards the sounds of music on the beach. By the time we usually arrived there was a big circle that had formed and the Capoeira has begun. "Capoeira originated as an African martial art developed by slaves to fight their masters. The art was prohibited by the slave owners and banished from the senzalas (slave barracks). Later, in an attempt to disguise this act of defiance from the authorities, capoeira was developed into a kind of acrobatic dance. The clapping of the hands and plucking of the berimbau, a stringed musical instrument that looks like a fishing rod, originally served to alert fighters to the approach of the boss and subsequently became incorporated into the dance to maintain the rhythm"(LP). It is amazing to watch and everyone gets to participate by clapping along or trying to join in on the singing. Anyone who knows the technique can join by signifying they want to join and take the place of one fighter. They proceed to spar each other in a flowing dance that gets its vibe from the music and people. Really something amazing to watch, so amazing that Summer is ready to start taking lessons once back in San Francisco. The thing is that we were ready to stay. Unpack our packs permanently and widdle away the rest of the days just doing nothing, one of our very favorite activities. There are plenty of travelers who had done just that and we seriously considered doing the same. But, there are so many things to see and so many places to go. With all the time in the world and an endless supply of money it might be possible but, at least for now, it is only a dream to be the eternal nomad, the perpetual traveler. For now, we must move on so we reluctantly shoved our limited possessions in our packs. We hired a 4x4 truck to drive us down the beaches and over the sand dunes to the nearest town that had a paved road. We jumped on board a big bus, sat close together and looked out the window...both of us sad to say goodbye to such a special place but of course excited to find out what awesome and crazy adventures lie around the corner. Next Adventure: Things Get Wild When Shawn Gets Mugged In Natal, Brasil |