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...
3 comments:
I read about your adventures and I am amazed. My polish mother instincts tells me you could have died from your diarrhea. I’m so happy you two overcame it and kept from dehydrating. You are so brave and adventurous and thank god this horrible disease is behind you. Brazil sounds so violent and I was so excited about this American guy who came out of nowhere and helped you. Will you stay in touch? I assume not cause as you were writing, people come and go and its hard to keep track. I also love your insights- if brazil is so proud fro being such a mixed country, why is it really like you say that only blacks are poor?
I loved the comparison between the homeless and the poodle!
Way to go for showing them white women can salsa too!
carnaval in Bahia is supposed to be great! looking forward to reading the next chapter
Great to read your adventures. I hope you can enjoy the last part of your trip without being ill. Beterschap en goede reis!
thank you Jaron!
Odelia: Well, I am curious about this Polish side of you...will you cook for me next time I visit?
The Rota virus is actually a most common cause of severe diarrhea in children, killing about 600,000 children every year in developing countries It is however rare that children die of it (or even get it) in the western world. So, basically we had a disease for which we were too old, but it was in fact still dangerous, as it weakened us a lot and you can still dehydrate.
I don't know if we will be in touch, I left him my details, but haven't heard from him so far. We have met a lot of people, but only very few we found really really interesting. With locals there is not really much point to stay in touch, not just because of difference in culture, but also because the chances we will meet again are very slim.
Between 1550 and 1888 about 3.5 milion slaves were brought from Africa to Brazil (40% of all slaves). Nowadays there are about 170 milion people living in Brazil, of which 45% is black or mixed. The unequality started there, with the uneducated slaves. I guess it is very hard to emancipate from that situation. Officially there is no discrimination, but whites have better access to education and thus better jobs. It is a vicious circle on both sides, it is very hard to get out of a favela and when well educated, you make sure your kids are too. I have a feeling that if I would move here, I would immediately start on a much higher level, just because of my color...
On tv we see mainly white people. We met a girl who lives in South Africa and she felt that the situation was pretty much the same to her country (favelas being townships), with the difference that here black and white do intermarry and do meet.
Even, saying so, for example the girl from Sao Paolo who was with us on the boat one night danced with a guy. She told us that at home she would never dance with someone like him (simple and black), her eyes were so to say 'opened'. I was surprised by that..
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