Wednesday Jan 6, 2010: Part 2: Food, Flowers, Folklore and Friends

We got back to the beach and said goodbye to our boatman and to Flavio. We headed to the apartment to clean up. After we cleaned up, we decided to walk along the beach some more. We were leaving soon and feeling the need to soak up as much beach time as possible.

Another meal that Ernani and Rebecca wanted to experience again was Acareje. Street vendors prepare it and we decided to have it for lunch on the beach. The vendors mash black-eyed peas and fry them in dende palm oil. We could have the peas with shrimp and/or with hot pepper sauce. We also could have them with diced tomatoes, onion, and cucumber. We found a street vendor and ordered what we wanted along with something to drink. We sat and waited for our food to be fried under an umbrella next to the vendor. It came out piping hot and delicious. It was perfect beach food.

We had been warned not to eat vendor food, but who could resist? It is a part of the fun of being away and pretending to be a local for a little while…a day or two seconds.

We walked the beach and when we tired of the sun, we crossed the street. Ernani had found a flower shop on one of his morning walks that he wanted to show us. We went there. It was a lot between two larger buildings, and if I had not had a guide, I would never have known a flower shop existed there. We walked into the lot and it was green. At the back was an open building, more like a hut or and shed hybrid. This was where the cut, exotic flowers were kept. We entered and they were beautiful. They were flowers unlike anything that we have in the Northern hemisphere. Long, brightly colored, big, vibrant flowers.

Since the florist was going to charge me 13 bucks for one hydrangea in the U.S., I thought for sure these would be expensive. We asked and were told 70 cents a flower. That was all. In our apartment complex, they had fresh flowers at the front desk every day. I knew why. If I lived here, I would always have fresh flowers in my house. Always.  It was incredible. It was affordable. It was beautiful and creative. In short, it was Brazil.

We encountered more beauty and creativity later that afternoon. We decided to go to a museum, so after our walk on the beach and leisurely stroll through the open aired flower shop, we took a taxi to a museum. Ernani told the taxi driver where to go and he immediately turned back to his fellow cab driver peers and asked where it was. This was the first time we wondered a bit about our taxi driver, but he got directions, and when we asked if he was sure where it was, he said yes. So, we got in and we were off. Not too long later, he dropped us off at the Folklore museum, not our original intention, but all right none-the-less. In fact, it turned out to be a wonderful museum.

We had our own guide, who took us through the exhibits. She was lively and fun, a student of native history. We felt lucky to get her as a guide. We saw native art, toys, pottery, religious icons and local carnival decorations. The house that housed the items was amazing. It was a large colonial mansion previously owned by rich people. It was two story and had an old elevator, which was narrow and scary because the inner workings were exposed. We took it up, and the stairs down. They encourage you to take the elevator both ways because the stairs are so narrow, less than the width of your foot, so you must be careful when going up and down them.

There was also a gift shop where only local artists sell their work. Again, we expected it to be expensive and were surprised when the items were way under what we would pay in the States. We loved the paper houses and paper dressers with doors and drawers that opened. We loved the two story miniature house with a deck and trees made of carved wood and full of tiny details, like the siding of the house. We bought a boat made of rolled up paper with a mast that moved the sail back and forth. This was a present for Eduardo. We bought Pajucara a woman dancing who was made of shells and wire. We bought ourselves a façade of a local church made of plaster of Paris. We worried it break, but  it made it through our travels all right. We wished we had bought more. It was such a special shop and probably the place we should have bought all our presents.

They took us to the exit which was the way the family entered the mansion. It was a large circle drive with a high concrete wall and ornate gate. Palm trees lined the back part of the house and we exited out the gate onto the sidewalk and piled into Eduardo’s car. We did not give him the present now, we were waiting for the last day, for tomorrow.

Eduardo was taking us to see Aunt Enoy who was in town because she had cancer and an exploratory surgery scheduled for Friday, the day we were leaving. Eduardo drove us to the new part of Maceio, the south where there is a huge suburb, a gated community with winding roads and huge speed bumps. The houses looked American, like high class Florida houses with slate roofs. They were huge, carpeted, and had pools and balconies and sod lawns. These lawns were weird in this dessert place. They stood out like a sore thumb to me. They looked wrong.

Enoy was staying with her daughter, Ernani’s cousin. She is one of those people who is naturally very happy and easy going, a positive person. You would never have guessed she was as sick as she was.  We visited with her on the porch overlooking a ravine. It was beautiful and the sun set in a splash of pink and purple. I enjoyed her company and meeting her.  I know that it was a gift for Ernani and Rebecca to see her again. We were to find out later that they found 7 tumors and took them out on Friday. Hopefully, she recovers swiftly. She has such a spirit.

Eduardo brought us back to the apartment because our evening plans included having dinner with Pajucara, Flavia, Oliva and Paulinha.  We were all looking forward to this and knew it would the last time, this visit, we would see them. It was a special dinner and we all wanted it to last a long time.

When they arrived, we decided to eat at a Chinese restaurant. The food was good and the company was great. I made sure Paulinha knew that I wanted to continue to talk to her and keep up with her and her life. Being so far away, this was important that we do keep up and would not be easy. (I owe her an email right now and will make sure that after I write this post, I will follow up and write her. J)  It can be hard to talk to friends with whom I live in the same town, so I knew thousands of miles would mean effort and I was ready to commit to that. It was great when Paulinha felt the same way about our budding friendship, that we had a connection we should maintain.

Outside the Chinese restaurant, Ernani returned the swim shorts he borrowed from Evandro. The comedian that she is, Pajucara carried them by the very tip of their string when Ernani told her he was sorry he could not wash it since the apartment did not have a washer and dryer. We laughed a long time over that one as friends do over inside jokes. We gave her the present we bought for her, and she loved it. The conversation was filled with laughter and fun as it was at Pajucara’s house. We took pictures and made sure to save room for some ice cream at Bali. We took a walk and talked some more, until finally we all had to say goodbye for now.

I meant it when I told them that if they ever came up to the States, they could stay with us. Friends like that are rare and giving back to them is a gift. 

Wednesday Jan 6, 2010 Part one: Sun and Water

On Monday night while were walking in our neighborhood, the same night we watched the soccer game,  we stepped into the Radisson Hotel and discovered they had a full breakfast in the mornings. We decided to have breakfast there Wednesday morning. Wednesday dawned bright and clear with sunshine.

Before we had left for Brazil, my brother-in-law Mariano had given Ernani a few contacts he thought we would enjoy hanging out with and meeting. Mariano had gone to Maceio previously a number of times to teach and also organized and led class trips to Maceio as a teacher. He met Christiano on one of those trips. We called him and met him at the hotel for breakfast.

Christiano was wonderful. Like me, his scholarly interests were in contemporay American Literature. He was pursuing a doctorate in the subject and teaching at the University.We had a lot of common interests and as we discussed the job market, we discovered the differences between the market in American and the one in Brazil. He told us about his family and his girlfriend in London. His eyes shined when he talked about her. Christiano was a wonderful Brazilian connection. We enjoyed his company and invited him to go to the passina natural with us, but he could not go. We exchanged email information.

Flavio joined us while we were eating since the plan was to go to the passina natural after breakfast. Thais could not make it this morning. The breakfast consisted of a huge buffet and was the most expensive and luxurious breakfast I have ever had. It was worth it to spend that much every once in a while. They had pastries of every kind, empanadas, breads, sweet breads, fruit, eggs and even made to order if you so desired. It was lovely. And Brazilian coffee is the best coffee ever, so I treated myself to some strong, wonderful espresso.

We stayed there a couple hours enjoying the company and conversation until it was time to go. At the beautiful entrance to the Radisson in the bright and warm sun, we said goodbye to Christiano and then went back the apartment (only a block away) to change and put on sunscreen for the passina natural, which we knew was possible today.

The night before Luciana told us a story about one time she went to the reefs. She and a group of friends had been drinking and partying and they decided to go out there one night at about midnight. When they got there, the water was ankle deep. She was the only one sober and she admired the moon light on the water. She said it was beautiful and strange to be out there in the middle of the night. She had not been there at that time before. But, everyone was drinking more and more, including the boat drivers, and the water was rising and she was getting a bit worried. She said she started to encourage everyone to leave and she was getting scared because drunks are not good listeners and of course lack judgment. She managed to convince them and now has a story to tell about her night trip to the passina natural.

We were going in the day, finally. It was exciting. We took new pictures at the new boat. The jagandas  were wood boats powered by the wind. They had a large sail and advertisers would use that space and pay a nominal fee to do so. Our boatman worked for his Uncle who had owned a few boats and rented the beach space from the city to take tourists out to the passina natural.

I joke that I grew up on a lake. We lived next to the largest lake in Illinois, Carlyle Lake, and summers were mainly camping and boating on the lake with my parents’ friends and their kids. It was a good childhood and I love boating. I love the launch, preparing for it--waiting in the scorching sun until the boat is ready to be launched. Then, as we finally move into the water, waiting to get past the no wake area so we can go fast and the wind  refresh us.  Then, the anticipation of jumping in the water, hard at first, but easy once you were in the water.

 I loved putting on the skies—slipping the rubber over each foot and finding the perfect fit—snug, but not too tight so that if I needed to I could kick them safely away. Then, the moment when my heart races and I tell the driver I am ready to go and I hear the motor kick on and then the tug of the rope as the boat moves forward quickly. There is a moment right then that you have to think by feel. I always pay attention to my body, keep it tight and in a sitting position, let the boat pull me up out of the water, not pull against the rope. Then, when I am up, I am free. I get to move, adjust the life jacket, assess and admire the waves and scenery. Check out the wake and decide when to cross it.

This was what boating meant to me. Skiing is walking on water and riding in the boat, face to the wind and the sun, was the best place in the world to be. It is a definition of happiness for me. I miss it and so being out on the water again was instant joy. We had no motor either, which was exciting and new. Plus, we were on the ocean. Not a lake big enough to sail a sail boat on, but an ocean where cruise ships traveled. I had never been on the ocean before in a boat. I was happy.

As we got closer to the reefs, the masts of the boats out there showed up on the horizon and become more prominent. We passed many boats going out to the reefs and coming back from them and even a man pulling some kayaks. Flavio told me he knew someone whose Dad kayaked out to the reefs every morning. I could not imagine a better way to start a day. When we got to the reefs, the water was about chest level and went down as we stayed out there. The initial jump into the water, we wanted to jump into the deep part and swim over to the shallow, was as usual a mind over matter issue.

We were in the ocean, many feet away from the beach, and my feet found a rocky and sandy place where I could stand. It was amazing. Ernani borrowed some goggles and saw fish he said were awesome. I never got the hang of using them, so I missed those fish. If we looked out towards the open ocean, we could see the waves crashing on the shallow reefs. There were many boats all around and lots of people. It is a big tourist area and I could not help but wonder how that impacted these reefs.

Too soon, but about an hour and a half later, it was time to go back to the beach. On the way back, I paid attention to our boat. When we arrived, the boatman detached a large beam that I associated with the rudder. He put it aside and wrapped the sail around the mast. It was neat to watch the workings of this boat without a motor. He prepared the boat to go back and we were all smiles. The sun, the sand and the wind. Who could ask for anything more?

Tuesday Jan 5, 2010: “The day Everything Went Wrong,” But Was Okay Anyway

Soon after we decided to go to Brazil and after we bought our tickets in late October, I got on the internet to find out what I could about Maceio. I excitedly emailed Rebecca the websites I found that were most promising, like the one that pointed me to the village that sold filet, Pontal da Barra. Then, Ernani realized I was reading about the place, but not seeing any pictures of it. He remembered how beautiful it is, so together we went to You Tube and watched people’s vacation pictures of Maceio.

I was awestruck by the beauty of the place, even on a grainy website that was showing me palm trees, dark blue water, sand and a windy and perfect beach lined with coconut trees. It was really hard to even believe I would be there in the flesh in late December and early January. One of the videos was about the passina natural, natural tidal pools which reveal the reefs that make the bays so calm and beautiful. They only exist in a few places and Maceio has five. Ernani told me that he and his Mom had never been out to one. It was immediately put on our to-do list.

Tuesday, January 5th was to be the day we were going. We had told Flavio the night before that this was our plan and he said he would go with us and find out the best times to go. We were to go in the morning and he and Thais met us in the lobby of the apartment. We walked across the street to the jagandas, small wind powered boats, that take you out to the reefs. The weather was fine when we walked across the street. It was sunny, the sky overhead was blue. But, to the north out on the ocean, the sky was a deeper blue and after we found a boat owner who said he could take us and we paid him, the wind started to pick up. We took our picture in front of the boat. Then, the wind really picked up and we asked our guy if we really could go. He kept saying yes, but I looked at the bay and saw whitecaps and the other men who had boats begin to talk to him. My translators told me they were telling him we could not go out there because a storm was coming in. The idea was to wait it out.

We sat under an awning and it poured and poured and continue to pour. We decided this was not to happen today after about 20 minutes of the rain not letting up. We retrieved our money and headed back home. Flavio and Thais decided to go home as well, but told us that we would have lunch with them and Eduardo later. Eduardo wanted to take Rebecca and Ernani to a place near the university that he said had the best feiojoada in town. Feiojoada is a traditional Brazilian dish and contains countless meats and black beans cooked into a kind of stew. When Ernani told Eduardo they wanted some, he said, but Lisa cannot eat that! I do not eat meat besides fish. I told him not to worry, I would eat lunch before and just sit with them. It was important that Ernani and Rebecca eat this dish they had not had in ages. 

So, Flavio, Eduardo and Thais picked us up for a late lunch, around about 1:30. I had an egg and cheese sandwich at the apartment on fresh bread from the padaria. I was not hungry, and ready to spend the lunch conversing and watching Rebecca and Ernani enjoy a meal they could really only get in Brazil. I was not even hungry enough for dessert and thought I might just possibly get something special to drink.

We all piled into the truck. Thais, Ernani, Rebecca and I sat in the back, which meant I was sitting very uncomfortably on Ernani’s lap. My leg was wedged against the door and I had to duck my head a bit. The truck was a 4X4 with very bad suspension, so I did hit my head a couple times as we zoomed and shifted our way from the ocean back to the airport. Poor Ernani had my boney butt cutting of his leg circulation. Eduardo kept asking us if we were okay. Traffic and lights worked against us. It was taking a very long time to get to the restaurant called Cantina Maritel: Feiojoada da Maria Gorda. Thais was very hungry and approaching what our friend Brian calls being hangry. Huger anger. She was complaining mainly to her father and we told her in North America kids would repeatedly say to their fathers when they were on a long car ride: Are we there yet? The restaurant was off the main road on a dirt road and because of the rain we had early in the week and this morning, the dirt road was a red, muddy mess that only a 4X4 could traverse. This meant more bumped head for me.

Eduardo dropped us off at the curb and we jumped over the mud onto the grass that lead to the open restaurant. It was not very full, but we sat down and even prepared to order and where ready, when the waiter came out and told us there was no more Feiojoada left today. Rebecca puffed out her checks and her did her very distinctive lip sound she does. It is like blowing a harmonica without a harmonica. It means shucks or disappointment of some kind. Thais put her hand to her head and rubbed her eyes. Rebecca put her head on the table. Thais declared it was “the day everything wouldn’t work they way we planned.”

We moved to a second location. A Churrascaria. A vegetarian’s nightmare. But the meat lovers were in heaven. They bring every kind of meat to the table on long spikes and cut off the piece you point at and want. And as much as you want you get. Eduardo was excited about one in particular he made Rebecca and Ernani try that was lamb. I had a juice and tried not to look. After lunch, we went back to the apartment.

That night we were to go to Luciana’s for dinner. She was having a special shrimp dish and all the cousins and some aunts would be there. Eduardo picked us up and took us there and stayed longer than he planned. Mario Jorge said he would take us home. Alini made Ernani his favorite dessert: torta branca. It was a dessert his Aunt, Luciana’s mother made. But, she and her husband had both passed away, so Alinia made it tonigh. It is a layered frozen chocolate dessert and I have been looking everywhere for the recipe. It was heaven. Alini said it did not set right, but we did not care. It was fabulous. We took a lot home with us and made sure we ate it all. At one point we had it at lunch because we could not bear to let it go uneaten.

The cousins were fantastic. We chatted and I wish I knew the language. I like the women a lot and wanted to talk with them, but we had that language barrier. I vowed to learn more Portuguese that night and after we move to Iowa, I am going to start taking some classes or find a tutor. There is nothing more frustrating than being unable to talk with people and when they are family, it is even worse. I was so grateful for those who were translating for me. They made it much easier and I was very grateful for them.

That night as we were going home with Alini and Mario Jorge, we discovered how big a fan of Lampião he was. He talked about him and again I wished I knew the language. But, the universal language is passion and I saw he had that for this topic. I love the openness of human emotion. It can cross the bounds of language.