THE ONLY LIMIT TO OUR REALIZATION OF TOMORROW WILL BE OUR DOUBTS OF TODAY (Roosevelt)

I am home! Yes. With a bad cold, still mixing up day and night and not used to the 20-30 degrees drop in temperature. It is great to see my father and brother again (thank you for the beautiful flowers!!), sleep in the same comfortable bed, to throw toilet paper in the toilet (and not in a bin next to it), being able to bake cakes, watch loads of television, but that is really about it. There were definitely no valentine cards waiting for me and I am still not ready to confront reality. At least I have a head (and a camera) filled with beautiful memories.

A quick update on the way back: I caught my cold from the wonderful air co in the plane from Rio to Sao Paolo, there the flight was almost cancelled and we enthusiastically volunteered to stay behind, but unfortunately there was still room last minute. We had two overnight flights during which it was impossible to sleep (films watched: Running with scissors, Volver and Babel).
The day in between we spent in Washington, where we walked around for five hours to see all the presidential and war memorials. Not enough time in Washington, but it was very interesting. In general we felt a lot of the memorials were celebrating victory more than commemorating death and one sided; at the Roosevelt memorial It mentioned the bombing of Pearl Harbour, but not a word about the nuclear bomb or other non-American victims.

It was just too weird to be surrounded by snow, while the day prior we had been lying on the beach. But I guess that is modern times: one day you are at the beach in Rio, the next in the city centre of Washington and the one after that in the outskirts of Amsterdam, sleeping...

I have been thinking of how to conclude this travel blog properly. It is too early to start looking back. One way to round off my last entry here is to look back at the several questions I have been asked, which I have answered personally, but why not make it public (censored of course-sorry took the names out..),..

Most frequent questions asked were by the way:
Where are you now? And when are you coming back?

-: How is the journey? Is it what you expected it to be?
-: by the way hows the crime scene where you're at?

For some reason South-America had been a very old dream of mine.
Why exactly, I don't know. Well, I like travelling and it sounds exotic, but it is
still a culture that might be understandable, seen its European origin.
When planning the trip it still stayed an abstract idea. Sure, we planned a route, prepared ourselves for all kinds of weather and bought loads of medication.
I got warnings about drugs, violence, the men, food poisoning, scam artists, theft...
These warnings did not stop while travelling, but even though we got ill, none of that threatened us. Partly because stories are exaggerated, we were very careful and we were simply lucky.

The trip was both what we expected from it and completely different. Travelling is fun and you see so much, but it also meant feeling very tired all the time, as we never stopped. And even if we did; a nightbus would spoil that again..Every day was different, that is for sure!

At arrival in Argentina it all felt very 'normal', almost as if we were in Europe, but later we found ourselves on completely unfamiliar ground. In that sense we could divide the journey in three 'cultures':
Buenos Aires and Chile: looks and feels very European, familiar
North of Argentina, Peru and Bolivia: poorer, indigenous culture
Brazil: different language, different mixture, different culture

I am constantly asked about high points. I think answering that is both hard and simple: the local people, who showed us around, invited us in or simply told us about their life.
I also enjoyed greatly the several hikes we undertook in Chapada de Diamantinha (Brazil), the volcano in Pucon (Chile) and Torres del Paine (Chile). Then there are of course the famous tourist points, that are famous for an obvious reason: they are breathtaking: the Iguazu falls (Argentina), Machu Picchu (Peru), the glacier in El Calafate (Argentina), the salt flats of Uyuni (Bolivia), the carnival of Brazil and many more sites..

Of course I have only scratched the surface, but South-America is now a vividly existing place for me, in culture, politics and nature.
In short: what this trip did was enabling me not to have a regret later for not doing such a thing and showing me that actually anything is possible, question of doing it!

-: How do you get along with your sister? Are you together all the time or do u sometimes go out and do stuff when the other one wants to stay inside?
We were practically always together and shared every moment and illness. No, we never fought, even though it would happen that we would snap at each other for a few minutes when tired & hungry, but that was really it. Well..we had a lifetime of practice...

-: And where is base camp? London ? Amsterdam... or wherever your family is?
Home is where your backpack is...Right now it is here, in Holland, but I do hope to take it back to London. I do believe that home is where your heart is, even if it means moving in between two places (or more). It is hard, but I also consider it a luxury. I am not entirely sure where to place London at this very moment, it feels far, it is entirely up to me to create my own home there. Anyone got a job & house for me, by any chance?!

-: Been meaning to ask you how it's going not eating meat out there? Guess it's ok cause there's a fair amount of fish depending on where you are. Do you eat shellfish?
No shellfish for me. Still a vegetarian, but it was hard at times. Not even so much because the steaks looked great in Argentina, but hard because sometimes there wasn't much else (= just rice) to eat. On the boat to Belem (Brazil) I did eat some of the meat soup, as I did not want to go to sleep hungry, but I couldn't force myself beyond a few bites. Nothing wrong though with the way South-Americans treat their animals btw. Lost weight (and strength), that is for sure!

-: any prospects on a new job?
Have not started looking yet and no offers! I am looking for a job into Publishing..anyone?

-: Heard that you are going to Nahum this summer ?
I really really do want to go to Israel this summer, but it is going to depend on my job situation, as I am sure no new boss will be thrilled if I asked for 3 weeks off after a month...

I did enjoy writing this blog very much and it was a way for me to digest some of the many impressions we had. I want to thank everybody who read, reacted and wrote me over the past few months, it meant a lot to me and am looking forward to seeing you again!

O MUNDO PARA PRA FANTASIA (do Cavaco,Totonho,Remédio)

We arrive at a ridiculous early hour in Rio de Janeiro (River of January, the month it was discovered in, in 1502), but still get a warm welcome by Michel in his beautiful apartment on the 24th floor. We do not know him, but we are both fellows and he has invited us to stay in his house.
On one side of the flat we look out over the biggest favela of Rio and on the other side we look out over the ocean and the tennis court and swimming pool. Michel and his wife Sheila are very generous with us and it makes our stay in Rio very comfortable.
Rio could be described in one word: Sunny. It is a big city, with not even that many specific tourist attractions, but it has a great natural setting, surrounded by green mountains and the blue sea with its busy beaches, with names like Ipanema and Copacabana (remember the songs?). Our touristy activities include visits to the Pão de Açúcar (sugerloafmountain) and the huge Christ statue for the views. We get many warnings about the dangers, but the most dangerous thing we do in Rio is going to the beach; the waves are really high and even standing knee deep in water can knock you off your feet, but it is fun.

Every person we've met on the way who has been to Rio, advised us to go on a so called favelatour. Even though we feel a bit reluctant, as we are not that excited about watching the poor, we're convinced and we go. With a guide and about ten other tourists we go up the mountain and wander down through the narrow streets of Rocinha, the biggest in South-America. About 200.000 inhabitants live here. A lot of small houses, families, open sewers, a bad smell and a good view. Favelas have a bad reputation mainly for all the drug dealing that is going on and the guide points out a guy here and there that is supposedly checking who is coming in and out. He kind of freaks out when someone wants to take a picture of two marijuana smoking guys. Almost funny to us, as marijuana is really no big deal to us Amsterdammers. My sister asks him if he pays anyone to leave us alone. He is all defensive and first answers with a "who told you that?" and then a " of course not, I do whatever I want." It was an interesting visit in the sense that we could see how it really is and not just hear stories about it. Most houses, made of concrete and brick, up there are legal. There is basic sanitation, plumbing, and electricity and even shops. Most people have jobs and are not the criminals that a lot of people try to make of them. It still however felt like a trip in which we went to see the poor. It might've been different had we just arrived in South-America, but we had already had a fair share of decayed houses and smelly streets...

Then there was the carnival....Carnival is not so much about dressing up. It is more about big trucks with music and singers on it and people jumping and dancing behind them. These are called 'blocos' and are all over town. We somehow never got really in the mood to get lost in the noise and crowds and mainly watched it from the bus we would be stuck in (constantly). The famous carnival with the dresses and the samba has been taken out of the streets into an especially designed stadium, called the Sambodromo. Four nights, from 8pm till about 6am the various schools present their bateria (drum section), their floats and their thousands of dressed up dancers. The family we were staying at had signed themselves up and bought a suit and were dancing in the parade. Sylvia and me did not have tickets to go in, but we watched them from the side, at the entrance of the stadium. We had a fantastic time watching the colourful masses and original floats.
This can also be described in one word: Loucura
!

CARNAVAL!

We are flying homewards tonight!

WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH, THE TOUGH GETS GOING

We arrived in Brazil after three months non-stop travelling and tiredness had gotten the best of us. Even though we had decided to take it easier, it did not happen. Everything seemed a little bit more difficult and the Brazilians not very helpful. Feeling ill did not lift our spirits much either and I started to feel ready to go home. The constant repetitive conversation with other tourists about ´wherehaveyoubeen´, ´whereareyougoingto´and ´whereareyoufrom´were boring me and I was looking forward to more personal connections.
Now that the actual returning date is nearing, the opposite is true. Feeling well helps a great deal to enjoy the surrounding. We have been having a great time since Salvador!

We visited a small island in front of Salvador, called Morro de Sao Paolo where we just lazed around on the beach.
We visited Lençois after that, which is the best thing we have done in Brazil (so far, with just a few days left). Lençois is a small village with freshly painted houses and cobblestone streets. The locals, who all work in tourism, do not have that much to do in the evening and are more than happy to hang around with tourists. OK, being two girls does help, as it was mostly male attention..I will need to adapt again in Europe, by far most guys here are dark, muscled and good dancers...nothing wrong with white,skinny and stiff, but still...;-)
We did not come for Lençois, though. We came for its park: Chapada de Diamantinha (Plateau of small diamonds), which is almost as big as Holland and where diamonds used to be found. We took a three day hike, during which we visited several beautiful waterfalls, including Fumaça the second highest (400 meters) in South America. I found the hike pretty tough, often having to use both legs and hands as we were climbing over rocks. I think all hikes we have done were not easy, but they were all the highpoints of our stay. I am sure there is a lesson in that!
Our 9 persons strong group consisted mainly of Israelis and they annoyed me, as they were like a lot of Israelis we have met: noisy, impolite and only into their own.
However it is wrong to generalise that much, as in the beautiful town of Vila Rica de Ouro Preto (rich village of black gold) we met some cool Israelis who took us to a republica (student dorm) where we witnessed a band practice for carnaval (still a little deaf) and where locals and tourists happily mixed. As this town thrived on former goldmines, we visited one. Impressive how complicated finding gold is! (and how many slaves were abused to do so).

Tonight we are off to our last stop: Rio de Janeiro, even if we are contemplating about whether we should stay longer or not.

IT IS THE LITTLE THINGS...

Most of what Brazil offers is coast. I get easily bored at the beach, so we try to visit Natural Parks. This is easier said than done.
At 7 a.m. there is a bus going to the park of Sete Ciudades from Piripiri, the nearest village to the park, say some. Others say that this bus does not run anymore. We just have to find out for ourselves. As soon I step out of bed with one food, I feel that I am being bitten. I look down and discover my rug sack has been attacked by an army of little red ants. After a fierce battle, I win, but then it is passed seven. (after again more conflicting opinions, we establish that that bus does not run anymore). Now we have extra time and we visit the bank. There are several banks in town, but of course none accept any of our international cards.
We call a cab, agree on a price, but when it is there, the driver claims he misunderstood and asks more. We are not surprised, but we hold on and he eventually gives in.

At the park all roads are clearly indicated, but it is mandatory to take a Portuguese speaking guide, who does not add much to the visit.
The Park has several rock formations and if you stare long enough at them, you can see animal shapes in them. It is kind of fun, but very hot.

The same evening we try to catch a bus to Ubajara, to visit another park. The bus is late and we miss our connection. We look for a place to stay in Tiaguia, but just that day the yearly motorcross rally takes place and everything is fully booked. A nice hotel owner offers that we can stay in the bar area, sleep on a plastic chair. An American walks in, apparently being told that some American girls have arrived. He is building a factory vitamin C there for multi billion dollar firm. He seems decent and says that if we do not feel awkward about it, he has an extra room in his house. We do what you do in those instances and trust our instincts and accept his offer.
Greg tells us about life in Brazil. He just moved to this new house. He enjoyed where he used to live, but there he was threatened that he would be beaten up if he did not pay. He called the police and paid them to protect him. After that the police came asking for more and now he had two parties coming round for him. Apparently it only costs you 50 reais (20 euros) to have someone beaten up and 150 (60 euros) to have someone killed. He then moved reluctantly. In all countries we have visited there were warnings and stories about theft, but here there seem to be a stream of stories of violence. It feels like this country lacks harmony.

In Ubajara we experience the same ridiculous rule as in the previous park: the park is open till five, but you are only allowed to visit the waterfalls till 10 a.m. Why is an enigma. After some whining we are walked to the nearest one (again over the only, well indicated road). Just a trickle, but we are excited about the monkeys we see running in the trees high above us. Luckily the park has also some really cool caves, so the 3 km walk to get to the park was worthwhile!

Of course we don´t completely skip the beach, we go to what everybody calls paradise: Jericoacoara. I am all ready to be my sceptical self, but truth needs to be told as well. The village is in spite of its commercial nature very laid back and cute. The beach sandy with palm trees and capoeira is performed constantly. The sea is unfortunately mainly good for surfing, too shallow and too much of a stream to swim. A lot of people come for a few days, but often end up staying longer. So do we, even though that is not a deliberate choice. The first day there I happily announce to Sylvia, who is ill, that my diarrhea seems to be over after two weeks, but in the afternoon I am throwing up on the beach, even after all the liquids in my body are finished. The rota virus has gotten hold of us. This means liquids pouring out from all sides and fever. A struggle not to dehydrate. But of course we beat it, even if it means losing a few kilos.

Now in Pelourinho, a neighbourhood which reminds us of Portugal, if you ignore the very different looking people (staring at me, as they apparently never saw a white girl move her hips) and the beggars who don´t just ask for money, but for bread, in Salvador de Bahia and we are enjoying the pre-carnaval atmosphere...