Monday Jan 4, 2010: Decadence in the Ordinary

Monday put us on the other side of the week we were spending in Maceio and it became apparent we would be leaving sooner than we thought. We were anxious to see more and do more so that we would not regret anything when we were on the plane home thinking back about what we had seen. We decided to start our day by going to the Centro. Maceio’s downtown was a pedestrian mall.

We walked to the Bompreco where the taxis stood in a line, ready and waiting. We took one downtown. He dropped us off near an outside market near the center of town and we walked along narrow, cobbled streets lined with shops whose doors where wide open. It was the first time I felt I was seeing the true Maceio where people went to shop for kitchen appliances, a garlic press, notebooks for class, pens and pencils and other household necessities tourists don’t generally buy on vacation.

I had been starting to imagine what it would be like to live here. This is game I like to play. When I go to a place outside of the states, I especially enjoy playing it. I assume I know the language, for if I did live there, I would have to, and I start to imagine what kind of apartment or house I would have, what kind of job, and what I might buy to live in that apartment.

What would my Saturday be like? Would I walk to a local padaria and pick up that thick, fresh bread Rebecca said she used to buy? I would imagine what kind of wonderful French toast (or blind fish as my Mom always called it) it would make. Would I then head to the beach, take my bike or sit under an umbrella with a good book, to enjoy the air and the ocean? Would this relax me enough so that I was ready to go back to work on Monday?

Shopping the centro sparked my imagination because of the crowds of ordinary Brazilians, the quantity of goods for sale, the open market feel to the place as we walked the rows and rows of shops that lined blocks and blocks and blocks of the centro.

One of the first shops we stopped at was a stationary store and I loved it. I love paper. I love office organizers. I deliberately avoid going to those aisles or to those stores dedicated only to that because I would spend, spend, spend. This little store was loaded with paper, pens, journals, notebooks and all in a 500 or less square foot space. It was heaven.

Rebecca was in the market for a certain kind of day planner she used to have when she lived here. So, I had an excuse to look and buy without buying. Prices were good and reasonable in the centro and we find her a nice little planner that met her needs.

We wandered around browsing the shops until we decided we should get lunch. We found a deli and bakery. I had a grilled cheese sandwich made from the thick, fresh bread I mentioned earlier that I thought would make good French toast. It would. When grilled, it melted in my mouth. Ernani had a meat pastry, something he been looking for even since the plane landed in Sao Paulo.

While we were in the long line to order (a good sign in any restaurant), we meet a woman behind us who started up a conversation with us. She was mainly talking to Ernani and asking us where we were from since the English gave us away that we were not from Maceio. She was very helpful and nice. I am glad we got to meet people like her and I wonder about her sometimes even today. What is she doing? I wish her well for the kindness she showed us when we did not understand the menu and she explained it to us. It was wonderful to meet such people and it made me think about my fantasies of living here and working here. She  might have fit the image of  the women living the life I was imagining might be possible in Maceio.

After lunch, we walked the shops. There were churches everywhere and I could not resist walking into one. It was smack dab in the center of the centro. I thought I could use it as a reference while we walked, but I was mistaken. The streets were not a grid. They branched out at angles and there were so many churches that they could not serve as a landmark. I assume everyone else just knew where they were going and knew the streets by heart.

It began to rain so we ducked under the awning of an appliance store along with everyone else who did not have an umbrella. I spent the time looking at the umbrellas that passed by and admiring how colorful they were. No one had just a solid colored umbrella. They were multi-colored or sported a design. We should have bought one. It was something we needed at home anyway. I also noticed across from us, a man selling one of the tennis rackets that was a bug zapper. I took his picture and right after he waved and smiled at me.

The appliance store behind us sold little gas stoves. I was very happy to be cooking on a gas stove again. They were the best thing about living in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Every home had a gas stove in Tulsa and in Maceio too it seems. It was a given. I missed that being a given. And, here in Brazil, I encountered the smallest gas stoves I have ever seen. They are tiny and they need to be lit as you use them. At least ours did. It did not have that automatic light feature, but that was okay. I loved the size. They were not overpowering and easy to handle. They had a lid you could put over the whole stove top, another great feature for when it was off.

When the rain ended, we browsed more shops. We looked for aerosol sunscreen but were told they did not sell it in Brazil. We browsed a dollar general Ben Franklin like have it all store and I almost bought a set a coffee cups. They drink from espresso cups in Brazil and I love those cups. But, Rebecca said someday I could have hers, so I refrained from buying. She saved us some luggage space. Later in the day we stopped at a shop and bought some juice. We had goiaba of course and it was wonderful.

The sky looked darker, so we caught a cab in the late afternoon. As we got into it, it poured rain. Our cab driver had a sweet console, a video screen that was playing a music video. We commented on how cool that was and talked to him a bit about how nice cabs were in Brazil.

We relaxed at home and had supper together at La Sucra another self serve restaurant. The best part of this restaurant experience was the fried bananas. I have been making them at home ever since.

We took a walk after we ate and Ernani watched a bunch of guys playing a soccer game on a muddy field with bare feet. They did not seem to mind the mud at all. Passersby stopped to watch. A young street kid, dirty and skinny, slept on the bench while we watched. He was deeply asleep and I found it sad to think about what a horror his life must be begging for food and jobs. And so, so young. He looked about 12 or 13. The mosquitoes were flying above the field, which was all light up by the lights. Bats were feasting on them.

Later that evening, Eduardo and Falvio came to take us to Bali, a favorite local ice cream shop. It is super busy and as we stood in line, we contemplated what to get. There were tons of flavors and about 10 kinds of chocolate. I knew I was getting chocolate and coconut and goaiba. It was delicious.

Eduardo ordered us another dessert too to share as a table. It was a French dessert. A chocolate flan like cake with chocolate sauce in the middle and topped with vanilla ice cream. We were full of course from our first ice cream servings, but it was hard to stop eating the special dessert. It melted in our mouths.

We were having a decadent day of consumption even as we were doing ordinary things: shopping, watching a game of soccer, and encountering the injustice of a life where a young boy goes hungry while we get to eat ice cream. Life is cruel and wonderful and strange. 

January 3, 2010: Part 2 of A Perfect Sunday in Brazil

Paulinha brought out her amazing camera and showed us pictures of New Year's Eve at the house and of her work at the University. They have a class outdoor trip where they learn how to core a tree without killing it, trap ants, and do all sorts of other tests and research in the woods. They spent about a month out in the woods, camping and working. She had pictures of the class's latest trip. She showed them to us. Her class trip took her out to the river which is called the San Francisco River. When I heard them talking about this river, I was confused, until I realized it was in Brazil and until I saw Paulinha’s pictures. See the language barrier.

Paulinha’s class also got to see a major, historical place deep in the woods that is an important part of Northeastern Brazilian folklore. She saw where the Robin Hood like hero Lampião meet his untimely end with his mistress at their hideout in the woods. The group hiked out to the grotto where there is a plaque and the marks of old bullets from the final shootout in the rocks. He is a big hero to the North, but also controversial. We heard a lot about him and the first time we heard of him was from our cousin Mario Jorge who said he loved to talk about this hero. Mario Jorge talked about him with passion. And Paulinha’s eyes lit up as she showed us the pictures and expressed her awe at being at this important place. She told us his name, Lampião, meant lantern because when he raided the rich he brought a lantern with him.

Upon return to the States, I did a little digging of my because I was intrigued and wanted to know more. I found this site among many others: 

http://recifeguide.wordpress.com/2009/05/07/lampiao/

Some like him and some do not. He was an outlaw, a rebel. Someone with very humble roots who was also very educated. He loved a woman deeply and she was a strong woman. The story from the above site, and which I had also heard from our local sources, was that this woman, Maria Bonita, was married, but they killed her husband and she ran off with her only love, Lampião. She died by his side of course when his enemies, the police and the state, finally found his hideout in the woods. He was a guerrilla fighter, so hard to find. He died in 1938 and raided in the 20s.

At one point Lampiao lost an eye. In the depictions we saw of him in the Mercado, he had a patch over one eye. He also wore glasses, so he had glasses too in those depictions. I will always remember this because of Pajucara’s story about Lampiao. First, understand this about Pajucara. She is warm and friendly and funny. She reminded me of a good friend I went to graduate school with in Missouri who has the best sense of humor I have found in anyone. She is funny. A natural comedian. Pajucara comes from the same mold. She told us that she remembered Rebecca was shopping for her kids and looking through all the dolls of Lampiao shaking her head. According to Pajucara, Rebecca thought they were all missing an eye and that made them defective. Now, my mother-in-law is a fantastic person who easily laughs at herself. As Pajucara told us this story, she was laughing and shaking her head, miming Pajucara’s story. We were a group of new and old friends having a wonderful time, telling stories and remembering the past.

Since the house had wireless, we had a chance to check our email and yes, our Facebook too. This was lucky. We got to chat with some of our nieces, Rebecca’s grandchildren, and when my parents came on, we told them to get on Skype. We got to talk to them from Brazil. They were in Arkansas. It was snowing in Arkansas and we were all in our swimsuits. 

We showed them the house since we had a laptop and everyone followed along. Pajucara introduced her family and Rebecca translated. Sergio and Evandro were playing Backgammon on the front porch, so we went to them to say hi. Barb, Olivia and Flavia were on the porch, so we went to the porch to include them. It was fun. It was great to see my parents and to know for sure that they knew we were happy and we were having a great time. It was awesome that they got to meet Pajucara and her family too after all the hospitality she and her family were showing us on our trip. All in spite of being 5,000 miles away. And the connection was perfect, the wireless and the human.

That night we went back out to the beach. As we passed beautiful houses with for sale signs, we dreamed of living here. The night had descended upon the beach and the waves were wild and crashed magnificently with great force upon the beach. Ernani and I were warned not to get too close. It was a completely different ocean: wild and ferocious. The opposite of what we swam in that afternoon. The wind had not let up, but intensified and I realized it was a little cloudy, but with wind like that patches of stars would shine through.

The moon of course was still bright, and Maceio’s lights were to the South, but I had a chance in this moment to look up at the stars. I saw Orion first, but from a different angle than I was used to seeing him. My hosts told me those three stars in his belt where the three Marias: Mary of Nazarath, Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany. We had no luck finding the small Southern Cross, but knew it was up there somewhere.

We returned to the house and spent some time talking and killing mosquitoes with what looked like a tennis racquet but the mesh part was electric and as we waved it, it found the mosquitoes and zapped them. I do love animals and some insects, barring spiders which I fear, and mosquitoes, which I hate, so this did not bother me as much as those bug zappers that people put in trees. Those are weird. I mean they are not killing the bugs that bother you, just bugs. 

The racquet at least killed those who deserve it a bit more. And, those which, if they were the right kind and the season was also right, might make you sick. We Americans were impressed. We talked about buying one, but we worried about getting that through security. Last month, my husband and I found one at Wal-mart. We bought one and nostalgically thought back to Brazil.

It was hard to go back to the apartment that evening, but it was an end to another perfect day in Brazil. And we would wake up to a string of other perfect days and the promise from our hosts that we would hang out together again while we were visiting.  

Sunday January 3, 2010: Part one: A Perfect Day at Pajucara and Evandro's House

Sunday was a perfect day for us in Maceio. We awoke to an invitation by Pajucara to come spend the day at her house swimming, having lunch, and visiting with her and her lovely family—her husband Evandro, and their daughters Flavia, Olivia and Paulinha.  Barb and her husband Sergio were also coming to visit.

Pajucara’s daughter Paulinha picked us up. She was practicing her English.  I realized today how hard it is to retain any of a language I know when I am never asked on a daily basis to speak another. It is hard to recall even the few words I know in Portuguese when I am surrounded by English. On an everyday basis Paulinha is surrounded by Portuguese. The opportunity to be around an English speaker was a gift. It gave Paulinha practice in English that she would normally have to seek out and which would be much harder to find, however, here it was in the form of me on her doorstop. I also benefited since Paulinha’s bilingualism allowed me to know what was going on despite my inability to speak Portuguese.

I should have known by her name we would get along famously. My best friend Pauline lives in Dallas and I meet her in graduate school. We had an instant connection of friendship as well. Anne of Green Gables would have said we were kindred spirits. And we are. Pauline and I even share the gift of both being redheads. I should have known that anyone else with that name who showed up in my life might also be a kindred spirit.

Paulinha and I grew very fond of each other and continue to email each other. I think it is safe to say we too had a kindred spirit experience upon meeting. I remember admiring how she would not pay the man on the street who always wanted money for ‘watching’ the car while it was parked and ‘helping’ the driver back out. When Ernani asked her if she was worried they would retaliate, I liked her down to earth answer about not having a car worth their time to violate; it was too popular of a car and indicated she was not the richy rich, so no bother to bother. This was my kind of friend: straight shooting and down to earth.

Since it was summer in Brasil, the college students had off. Paulinha is a graduate student in Environmental Science and Ecology. She and her sisters were home for the holidays. As we drove north to her mother’s house, we followed the ocean. We noted that they had closed off a portion of the road again in town and families were strolling the road normally packed with racing cars. Paulinha told us they did this on Sundays. There were a lot of families riding bikes. We commented on what a wonderful idea this was and I could not help but think how brilliant it would be to take the kids here on Sunday and enjoy the air, the water, and the time off. It was super fun and relaxing, the kind of day I did not know we were about to have at Pajucara’s house.

Traffic was heavy even as the road took us off the shore line. Everyone was heading north to the beautiful beaches to spend the day swimming. We all had the same idea. As we drove and gaped at the scenery, we noticed hotels with strange names: Hotel Amour, The Hideaway. They all had high walls and private entrances. We learned that they were hotels to take your mistress to and were common. They had hotels like these, built specifically for these purposes, for all the classes.

Not everyone likes them. Not everyone uses them.

When we arrived at Pajucara’s house, the first thing I noticed was the beautiful yellow walls and wonderful plants everywhere. The house was open. Doors were wide open, windows too. It was lovely. We were greeted warmly immediately upon stepping from the car. Pajucara and Rebecca have a lovely and deep friendship, so it was wonderful to see how much they enjoyed being together again. Evandro taught me how to say very beautiful: muito bonito. That was the description of the house, the family, the beach, and our Sunday with them.

We ordered lunch after getting ready for the beach and a quick tour of the house.  We had to know where to change. I lathered on the sunscreen, but I would have my first lesson in how my skin reacts to the tropical ocean. I now believe that no matter how much I put on or how often I apply sunscreen, I will get a slight burn because of the reflecting water. Plus, I checked the UV levels before we left and they were all off the charts. I knew what I was getting into. The hats and everyday wear worked fine, but swimming was an entirely different matter. And I did have a slight tan and way more freckles when I got back home, so I got my vitamin D without getting a major burn. 

The house is too beautiful to describe with justice.  It is one story with tiled floors and open, inviting rooms. It is also surrounded by porches and outside seating. The main porch had a roof and a hammock and just outside of it was another sitting area where we ate our lunch. Starfruit and mango trees are everywhere in the yard, so the yard and porches are in shade. Plants we have inside our houses line the walkways and lurk artistically in trees. A small sitting place stands in the middle of the yard and in the back corner is an outside shower. We used it after we swam. It was refreshing.

Pajucara and Evandro live about 2 blocks from the beach. So, we walked to the beach and noted the beautiful houses we passed. I noted some for sale signs too. The roads were sand, pointless really to pave, and a good sign we were very near the ocean. We arrived onto the beach and after trying without success to plant an umbrella in the sand (it was a windy day), we ran into the warm, perfect waters of the sea. And it was perfect. Calm, but wavy enough to be exciting. I had perfect ocean experiences in Brazil. Only Daytona’s beaches come close to the experiences I had swimming in Brazil. The undertow was not scary, the waves were fun, the water was perfect.

Paulinha explained that the tide was perfect now and later that night when we went back I found an entirely different, much more wild ocean, but at noonish it was calm, docile and only wild enough to enjoy. We wildly happy swimming.

On our walk back to the house for a late lunch, I learned from Paulinha what Flavio was to repeat later in the trip to me. Brazil is blessed. There are no storms or hurricanes that threaten Maceio and its beaches.

Lunch was ordered and delivered to the house while we were at the beach. Barb and Sergio also arrived while we were swimming. Lunch, again, was one of the best I had in Brazil. We had mashed potatoes of course, manioc, and tuna pasta that I have been trying to replicate at home since we got back, it was wonderful. It melted in your mouth. And fish, fish, fish in heavenly tomato sauces. And fries. And Graviola ice cream for dessert.

Ernani and I have, since we returned, often talked about how wonderful it would be to have a restaurant who would deliver, even that far out of town, and deliver such good food. Our options here are so limited in that respect.

While we were eating lunch and enjoying the good company, we noticed some monkeys in the tree next to us. Evandro began to entice them down further so we could really see them and the tourists (us of course) could take pictures. They would come right down and take the food from his hands. One of them even had a baby on her back. They also were not eating it all right away. We saw that they were taking it and going back up into the tree where they had a nest to store it there. Clever. 

Ernani got a chance to feed them, but they were done by the time I tried, so we returned to our ice cream and the rest of our perfect day.

Contentment In Maceio: Saturday Jan 2, 2010

Rebecca had asked Barb about a good place to eat breakfast and Barb told her about a place called the Bodega.  Rebecca had been there before and had liked it, so it was our first destination on Saturday. We took a taxi to the restaurant, which was decorated as a giant teapot. We ate in the bottom of the teapot whose walls where lined with teapots. It was a very interesting building, very light and the tables were solid wood, a golden oak. The chairs were rustic in the sense they were made of the same golden wood, but made to look like parts of the tree. The legs were made to look like thick tree branches. Some had 3 legs and were like stools, some were long benches. 

When we asked about meat free food, the chef pointed out all the dishes on the table buffet that were meat free and then he went back into the kitchen and brought me out a freshly cooked fish, all for me. He smiled as he pushed it onto my plate. I have never had such good service. It was yummy, but the best food I had there had to be the cheese empanadas.

We decided after we ate to take a stroll on the beach, which of course was only a block away. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and a light breeze was blowing in from the ocean. We walked for a while and then ended up at a restaurant on the beach, one of many that lined the beach. We had to keep our plastic chairs on the concrete that marked the boundaries of the restaurant. No walls existed. It was an open space near the ocean crowded with plastic tables and chairs full of families and friends gathering to have lunch on the bunch, hang out, and drink beer.

We ordered juices and sat facing the ocean. To our left was a sandy area designated for volleyball. A group of men were playing a game that was called volleyball football. It was half volleyball and half soccer. Ernani enjoyed watching them play.

Vendors would come by selling their wares. Ernani bought a pair of sunglasses. A street artist came by and we watched him paint a sunset ocean scene with boats on the shore. He painted on a ceramic tile in about 10 minutes’ time. It was fascinating watching him blend the colors on the tile itself and then outline the shapes of the objects, the boats, palm trees, sun, as he used another flat tool to shape them and bring them to life out of the paint. And he was fast. Rebecca bought one from him and we learned he was a student of art and worked the beaches for extra money.

We decided to get another cab and see the new mall. The mall was not there when Rebecca lived in Maceio. Our cab driver was great. He told us that he was learning Italian because the majority of tourists to Maceio were Italians. They were coming in droves and even buying land. I was impressed with the taxis. They were all clean and even air conditioned. The price was never a surprise either. The drivers were communicative and only once did one take us to a different place than where we had asked to go. This is the complete opposite experience I have had with Mexican taxi cabs and drivers. I had no reservations about taking a cab in Maceio.

When we got to the mall, the first thing I notices was that it was such a different shopping experience than Ponta de Barro or the Mercados and Artisans on the beach. It was air-conditioned and controlled, plastic and factory made, silver and gold, and upper class. The rich shopped here. Not the tourists or the poor.

I am never comfortable in such places. Never.

We did find a store I was comfortable in: Los Americanos. It was reminded me of what Woolworth’s used to be like,  and it was tucked into the corner of the mall. It was the step-child of the mall. It even had that yellowish light I remember Woolworth’s having and the overstocked shelves and all the items crushed together that simultaneously sucks me in even as it overwhelms me. It was not an unorganized thrift store either. It was one step up from that. It was the kind of place I do feel comfortable in--the kind of place with reasonable prices and lots and lots of miscellaneous items to impulsively buy without bankrupting me.

 There was no air conditioning, just large fans at the entrance blowing into the back of the store. We ended up in the sandals section where I found a decently priced pair of Havianas and a hat. We even found chocolate here. We waited in line a little while to check out, but what impressed me the most was that the cashiers got to sit while they checked us out. This is something every cashier in the States should protest for the right to do. It was so much more humane than standing all day long.

We exited the store and went back into the shiny mall where we window shopped, getting a sense of the Brazilian fashions. I do love their shoe stores and my cousin Jamie would have too. She loves shoes and they had more varieties of shoes in a shoe store there than the Shoe Carnival does here. Almost all of them were high heeled and beautiful pieces of art the klutzy Lisa could never wear, but that was okay. It was like a museum of shoes, so I looked and I imagined and I dreamed.

We took a break, sat on a bench, and watched the people a while before we got another cab to go back to the apartment. I wore my green striped straw hat from Los Americanos home in the cab.

Barb came by to visit later that afternoon with her son’s mother-in-law. Their kids had just had a baby and Barb said they were the two crazy Grandmothers who had sent a parcel to Chicago of baby items for a large price. The mother-in-law also told us about how she tried to go to the States to spend a month helping with the baby and visiting her daughter and son-in-law, but the U.S. would not give her a Visa. They were afraid she would stay past the Visa. She was a single mother in Brazil and I guess women without men are still a threat to the patriarchy. Fear the widow. She might never leave or hoodwink you and defy your crazy rules.

It is amazing to think that an average person, just like us, would be denied the ability to travel and see her family. And it was clear she had a full life in her home country. Why would she want to leave that full life for good and move to cold Chicago illegally? To leave her full and happy life, house, other sons and daughters? It seemed obvious she would visit her daughter after that daughter had a baby and then come back to the full life she had elsewhere. It made no sense to deny her a Visa when she had a return trip planned. I began to feel grateful that Brasil had not denied us entry into their beautiful country. And grateful that they knew we would want to go back to the life we had there even if we feel a little bit in love with their country.

That evening, we had dinner with Ernani’s cousins. Alini and Mario Jorge picked us up and we meet Cristiano,  Luciana, her son Mateus, Eduardo and Flavio at a very nice restaurant. We sat outside and enjoyed drinks and a meal together. Ernani had a very good time seeing his cousins again and I kept wishing I could speak Portuguese. I wanted so much to converse with everyone without anyone thinking about translating for me. Still, it was wonderful seeing Ernani speak so animatedly with his cousins and to see Rebecca enjoying seeing them as well. When your loved ones are happy, so are you.

Fish and Filet and French Food, Oh My! : Fri Jan 1, 2010

Barb drove South from Trapiche to a local fishing village called Pontal da Barra. They keep their village as authentic as possible. The streets are narrow and the houses long. The village is on the lake and the houses on the lake look like this: the first part (near the street) is a store and the back the house where the family lives (and overlooks the lake). The lake is Lake Mundau. It empties into the ocean and the people fish the lake and sell their beautiful filet for their livelihood. Just down the road from the village the fresh water lake empties into ocean.

We had lunch at the restaurant Peixarae known for its fresh fish. The restaurant mirrored the buildings in the village in that we entered from the street on solid ground and as we moved to the back of the building, we moved to the lake. We found ourselves on a back porch balcony over the water with a fantastic view of the lake and the islands in the middle of it. There were stairs that lead down to the lake and more stairs leading into it. We took pictures and tried to feed the fish after we ate (they did not like our leftover rice). You could pull your boat right up and walk up to eat if you wanted to. I imagine that is how the fishermen bring the fish to the restaurant. We were going to be eating the freshest fish.

We order two plates and shared. One was shrimp and one was a local fish. They were awesome. The fish and shrimp are cooked in creamy sauces and the fish dish was the best in terms of the taste of the fish. The shrimp dish also had a local fish in it, but it was more salty and though good, it was not as good as the other. All the fish had bones in it because it was fresh and healthy fish. The shrimp were large and tender.

They also served mashed potatoes with it (again creamy goodness) and we ordered an appetizer that was fried mantioc, a local staple. When fried, it is like potatoes, like fries, but so much better. Faranha, which was a local grain that Barb called sawdust, was also served with our fish and it was delicious. It did not taste or even feel like sawdust, it just looked like it. It was mixed in with dishes. We even had desert. We ordered three doce leches. Ernani had caramal of course and we had a chocolate and I had a coconut which was awesome. I had what I think was the best. It was so sweet, but so good. I told them I could eat this all day. It was the one of the best desserts I had in Maceio besides the goyaba shake.

 After a long, late, leisurely lunch, we returned to our car and drove through the village a bit to see what an older village looked like. As we were driving, I saw that hanging from every balcony were beautiful hand made table clothes, place mats, sweater, and quilts. Before we left, I had googled Maceio and discovered a site that talked about a market South of the city where the women made filet lace.

According to this website, http://www.maosdeminas.org.br/images/NovaBFM.pdf  :

“Pontal da Barra, an old district of Maceió (AL), started as a fishing village where the fishermen’s families lived on what they took from the sea and the lake. Today it is one of the most famous tourist resorts of the region, and its pavements covered with locally produced handicrafts attract lots of tourists. The filet lace follows the lines of a grid, the same process as for fishing nets, and the artisans tell us that the work of the filanzeiras – as the artisans are known – from Pontal da Barra are famous throughout the country and in many countries in the world.”

The women use coconut and banana fiber for their thread. They weave muti-colors pieces and they weave whole pieces entirely in white. We saw baby clothes, belts, head bands, shirts in addition to the table decorations. We bought bookmarks. I bought a belt that I could also use as a headband. We bought place mates for ourselves and for gifts.

I had recently begun to crochet, so I was very interested in how the women made these beautiful crafts. They were true artists. The creativity and quality of their work was stunning. One local woman was making something and Barb asked her if I could take her picture. She said yes and I have a picture of making a shirt. We talked to her and she told us this was how she made the money to pay for her utilities.

By the time were ready to leave the sun was setting and the shops were closing for the day. If I had one small regret, it would be that we did not go back, but someday we will go back.

Since the sun was setting, we headed back to our car and drove through the village and back to the main highway. Barb took us over the long bridge that crossed the Lake as it emptied into the ocean and then turned around and we headed North back to Maceio.

She dropped us off at the apartment. We had had such a wonderful day with her and looked forward to more days with her.

We spent that evening with Eduardo, Flavio, Thais, and Paulo. Eduardo took us out to dinner. We went to Café Palato, a fancy cafe inside an upscale supermarket that was basically a smaller version of Central Market, the large Texas chain of supermarkets that are heaven on earth for the grocery shopper with discriminating tastes. It had everything, every variety of cheese, wine, meat, box dinner, vegi, you name it they had it. The restaurant was in the back corner and packed. We waited a while to get a table, and when we did, I had a wonderful salad with goat cheese.

As a vegetarian, I am picky about salads. So many people think ice berg lettuce is lettuce. It is not. It is not. It is worth saying that twice. Romaine, oak leaf, red, green. Those are lettuces. They actually have vitamins in them and a good, healthy taste, unlike that iceberg stuff that can freeze in the fields for all I care. They used real lettuce and made their own dressing. It was raspberry vinaigrette. And, did I mention the goat cheese? Yes, I know it was not really a Brazilian meal, but I was ready for some Vegetarian fair. And they added fresh berries and walnuts. It was wonderful.

And then we had what was pure heaven and the best dessert all week. Cream of goyaba, They brought about a goyaba hollowed out and inside was heaven heaven heaven. They took the fruit and made a cream out of it and I would kill for that recipe. I was stuffed from all the good food that day, so I tried one Ernani and Rebecca shared. But, I liked it so much Eduardo got one just for me. I made Ernani help me. Heaven.

A New Year and A Look Back: Fri Jan 1, 2010

We took our time getting up. Rebecca called her friend Barb, who came over the apartment just after noon. Barb and Rebecca knew each other from back when Rebecca lived in Maceio. They were both Americans who had married Brazilian men. Barb and Sergio are still together and living in Brasil. Their children live in the U.S. Barb is a professor of nursing at the University in Maceio. She told us she is close to retiring and is considering her options. She had also just had a knee replacement surgery and had recently healed enough to be able to drive her stick shift again. She offered to drive us all around Ernani and Rebecca’s old haunts. Without this offer, we would never have had the chance to see the old places familar to Ernani and Rebecca. One of Ernani's goals was to re-connect with Brasil and Barb helped him to do that.

Since it was a holiday, traffic was non-existent away from the beach. Everyone had stayed or returned to the beach. So, as we headed into the city, we had a chance to see the colonial architecture of the city instead of the modern hotels and high rises and construction to make more high rises that lined the beach. We could see the former and older beauty of Brazil and for the first time in Maceio I felt that I was seeing the real city, the real Brasil. The road was brick, not flat pavement, and not repaved brick like they have in some of the older parts of our country which have been restored and smoothed out for tourists. Though some of the buildings were in bad shape, I could imagine what they looked like years ago. They must have been luxurious and beautiful. I found myself imagining having lots of money and buying one and restoring it.

We were heading to a high point in town called the Mirante. We climbed hills until we got to a flat courtyard, a half circle, near a church, a high rise apartment, and another high rise apartment under construction. Maceio is under construction. Barb and Rebecca explained how much the city had changed and had grown just recently. When they had arrived at Maceio, the sandy beach stretched out past the road and hotels that now border the beach. The hotels did not exist.

From this high point, we could see the town spreading out to the ocean. The high rise hotels all followed the beaches. From the beach to the centro were houses and buildings both rich and poor. Flowers and trees dotted in between them. Tin and rusted roofs and slate roofs, mainly the later, abounded. To the right of the high point area was a high rise apartment were the governor had an apartment. Mirroring it was one under construction. The sky was blue and the view clear.

Behind us was the half-circle we had driven into that was a small park. Ernani and I walked a bit in the park. The small park was dotted with palms. Maceio is a desert on the beach. I had been admiring the large aloe plants, cactus, and other desert plants that grew everywhere alongside the coconut trees.  I loved the U.S. Southwest Desert and I loved the ocean. The marriage of the two is just heaven.

There was a church across the street, green and white, and the community had put up a nativity across from the park and near the church. They had decorated it with potted palms. Barb told us that this was the church were Pajucara and Evandro got married. It was small and cute, but unfortunately closed.

We drove to another overlook point near one of Ernani’s schools, called Colegio de Santa Teresinha. His other old school was no longer in existence. That was shame since I had heard so many stories about it from Ernani and his brothers and sister. But, this one was still a working school when it wasn’t a holiday. We stopped at the overlook before driving to the school. A large beautiful tree was above us and across the street houses lined the road. They had ceramic front tiles and wrought iron gates and window coverings. They were beautiful and long and narrow. Barb said they were also hot inside, so at night people sat out on the front sidewalks and the windos, doors and garages were open for cross ventilation. I imagined how close you would get to your neighbors and how special it must be to live like that. Most of Maceio’s buildings were open because being outside was such a pleasant experience. It was breezy and cool in the shade.

As we turned back to the view of town--to the beaches, hotels, apartments, houses and slate roofs, flowers of Maceio--we noticed to the right a tarp house and a homeless woman who lived there. Barb said she had looked up out of her house while we were talking to see who we were. Who were those people talking so much in English? The idea of the homeless living right next to these houses is unimaginable for most U.S. citizens, but the realities of poverty are not hidden in most of the other countries of the world. I felt as though we were violating her private space, that we were talking in her front yard.

We left and headed for Ernani’s old school. Ernani and I got out and took pictures. Just down the street on the corner a group of young people were sitting talking, laughing, and listening to music. They waved at us as we drove by. Brazilians are friendly.


We headed to Trapiche and the house on 127 Lavenere Machado where Ernani had lived growing up in Brasil. As we got closer to the house, Ernani and Rebecca were recognizing landmarks, like the grocery store and gas station, which indicated we were getting closer to the house. They were getting excited as we started to get closer and as we turned down the street. We stopped in front of the white house.

Rebecca and Ernani rang the front bell because there were cars in the garage. We hoped we could see inside, but no one answered. We peered through the garage door slates. Rebecca told me that where they now had a car, her family had had a couch and the TV. Barb said it was the only house she knew of in Brazil where the kitchen was separated from the other rooms by a courtyard. It would have been nice to see inside, but even standing outside peering in, memories flooded Rebecca and Ernani. They talked about one: Mariano and Shaner on the roof with Eduardo helping him with the water cisterns. And, Rebecca told me later that this was the house were Eduardo had his caged birds all along the front yard. She remembered how they sang so beautifully.

Ernani took a stroll down the street and Rebecca told me about the neighbors. We were parked next to a green house and when I looked through the slates, I saw an empty yard, not kept up. The walls of the houses often had either an electric fence or broken glass on top to deter thieves. This wall had the glass. Rebecca told me a crotchety man used to live there. He would get mad at the kids because they would gather on the sidewalk in front of his house and play games.

Ernani remembered the old man He told me they would play soccer in the street. As we drove down the street, we came to the beach. It was about 2 blocks from the house. I can only imagine growing up that close to the beach. Ernani said he remembers it being farther away or that it felt like it was farther away when he was a kid. We reminded him he was little, with little legs that made distances seem farther than they were. Memory is tricky at all times, especially when awakened from a long sleep.

A Brazilian New Year’s Eve

As we walked back towards our apartment, we stopped for lunch at a restaurant that was a self serve. Many good restaurants in Maceio are self serve and this one had a very good selection of fish on their menu. We sat outside as we ate. We were eating a late lunch and were the only patrons. I had a tomato based entre made with a local mollusk called sururu. This is fish native to the lakes of the Northeast. All the fish was fresh and the local fish were the best. Many people make a living as fishermen in Maceio. The many lakes and the ocean provided them with their livelihoods. I had also been told Brazilian are into big lunches and not so much into breakfast. I am the same way.

Our first day in Maceio was deceptively quiet so far. We strolled back to the apartment leisurely. When we did get there, we discovered Eduardo had left us a phone to use. I had completely forgotten it was New Year’s Eve. I had no idea what day it was and the United States and the usually traditional parties of this day all seemed so surreal and far away. If I had been home, I would have had plans for the holiday and would have been preparing for them or thinking about them at the very least, but here, in Brasil, I was pleasantly unprepared. It felt like floating through a day. I was content to see where the day took me. When Ernani did talk to Eduardo and Flavio on the phone and mentioned how they were trying to get us tickets to a big party tonight at the Maceio Mar Hotel, I heard him and I understood him, but I did not really connect it to New Year’s Eve and the approaching New Year. And it did not really sink in until I was counting down to the fireworks that it was the last day in 2009. When everyone hugged and said Happy New Year to me in Portuguese (Feliz ano novo) and I said it back as well I could, then it sank in, but only then.

Rebecca called her friend, Pajucara, who invited us all over to her house that night. When Rebecca told her about Eduardo getting tickets to the hotel, she said those where the hottest tickets in town. Ernani and I felt we should go with Eduardo and Flavio tonight, but Rebecca had a choice. If she was home in the States, she would have been celebrating tonight at the farm with her family and her sister. She felt a strong desire to be with us that night, to be with some of her kids, if not all of them. (Yes, she loves us that much!) She decided to spend the evening with Pajucara and meet up with us later, after midnight.

Pajucara was coming to pick her up. Pajucara lived North and just 2 blocks from the beach Gauxima. She and her family planned to see the New Year come in by having supper and then taking a dip in the ocean. This night was special not only because it was the last night of 2009, but also because the moon was full and the tide would be very low from 10 P.M. to 2 A.M. Rebecca has awesome pictures of being in the calm, shallow ocean under the full moon that night. They swam in the calm and emptier ocean and then at midnight had a traditional Brazilian New Years meal: Turkey and potatoes. A word about Brazilian Mashed Potatoes. They are the best in the world. I am not a big fan of the American version, but I loved them in Brazil. It took a few taste tests to realize why: butter. They put a lot of butter in them and their butter is awesome. It is rich, creamy, fresh, goodness.

Pajucara came to pick Rebecca up at around 8 and Flavio came by with Eduardo for Ernani and I at 9. They took one look at what we were wearing and told us we had to change. It is a tradition to wear white in Brasil on New Year’s Eve. We had dressed ourselves in black. We changed. We left the apartment and drove the back streets to get as near the hotel as we could. New Year's means a big street party in Maceio. They block off the main street in front of the beach. Vendors were selling local beer for 2 reieas or about a buck and food vendors and bandstands were placed every so many feet. The street was packed with people and the beach was also packed all along the coasts.

It was amazing how many people were there. It seemed that most of Maceio (a city of 2 million, smallish for Brazil) came out to celebrate the New Year, 2010, on the streets and beaches. Some people on the beach had tents. All the groups of families had a cooler and they would gather round it, standing or sitting on plastic chairs, talking, dancing, and soaking in the atmosphere. People of all ages, infant to senior, were on that beach. Brazil seems to have a lot of young people and families and they brought their children, parents, and grandparents, out to celebrate New Year’s Eve. It was wonderful to see the variety of ages.

We walked a bit on the streets and found the friend of Eduardo who had our tickets. We even had a ticket for Rebecca when she arrived later that night. Since Ernani’s father had to pick up his sister Enoy from the airport, he left us to wander the streets with Flavio and then find our way back to the Maceio Mar Hotel (which sits right on the main beach street). From the hotel, we would watch the fireworks that lined the beach ready to be lit at midnight.

When we got tired of walking around, we went back to the hotel and sat with Flavio, Thais and their mother Maria Teresa. Paulo (Thais's boyfriend) and his family were also there. Everyone was in white and some of the women had even had their dresses made especially for this night. This was the place the people with money came to to ring in the New Year. While we were waiting for the countdown and the fireworks, we eat appetizers and goyaba shakes. (The shakes were wonderful. They were even better than chocolate. I had found a new fruit to love and I ate as much of it as could while I was there.) The fireworks started off well, but then there was a pause between them. It seemed there were some technical difficulties with the ones on the beach in front of us, but they were going off all along the beach and even Rebecca saw them from the beach she was on North of town.

A local TV/Internet guy was at our hotel asking people what they thought of the fireworks. They interviewed Ernani. The guy was bug eyed and had too much energy as for as I was concerned. When he tried to interview me, I was non-committal, spoke in English, and would not take his instruction to look at the camera. I have no desire to be on TV in Brasil; I have no desire to be on TV anywhere for that matter. Ernani though did well. When they asked him where he was from, it was obvious we were visitors, he told them West Virginia. They said Virginia and he insisted “No, WEST Virginia.” We had encountered this kind of confusion before in Acapulco. It seems for some reason the rest of the world does not know that West Virginia seceded from Virginia around 1860 or so. We are our own, darn it. So, we try to educate when we can, but it does not always work.

The hyper man continued to the next question: how did you like the fireworks (of course this was all in Portuguese). Ernani said they were so-so. The next day, Eduardo said he was briefly on channel 11. We had not seen it, but when I was watching TV that morning I did cringe every time I saw the news coverage of New Years; I was waiting to see if they would show us and was relieved when they did not. We were not watching the right channel to see Ernani, unfortunately, but thank goodness they did not show me.

After the fireworks, we walked up and down the streets and the beach where everyone was dancing and drinking. We did not see this, but it is another tradition in Brasil at New Year’s to jump 7 waves for luck and throw flowers into the sea to honor a sea goddess.

We did meet Rebecca later at the Maceio Mar Hotel. She was escorted there by Pajucara, which was good since she would never have found it otherwise. When we were ready to go, we walked back to the apartment. We got back at three AM and went to bed. Everyone else partied into the morning on the beaches and in the hotels and welcomed in the new decade. I could think of no better place to be at the start of the year than in Maceio.