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.
This is awesome babe. Good memories. I was thinking about the swim shorts the other day... I love your writing.
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