Friday, January 8th, 2010: Goodbyes

We spent the previous night packing, so we awoke and were ready physically to go to the airport. Mentally, it was harder to leave. It had been a wonderful vacation and though I was looking forward to going home, seeing the cat, and teaching again, I did regret leaving the beach, people and food that I had come to love.

Before Eduardo came to pick us up, Ernani and I headed to the beach across the street to say goodbye to the ocean. We walked the beach and wondered when we would put our feet back in the ocean again. 

 It was noted that I was quiet as we drove to the airport. I was taking as much in as I could. I did not want to forget this trip and I wanted to come back as soon as we could. We joke about going back for the World Cup in 4 years or to visit Mariano who got a Fullbright to teach in Brasilia next year. He is bringing his whole family and it would be neat to visit the interior. But, Maceio was where I really wanted to spend most of my time. We had met the best people here.

When we got the airport, we stood in a check-out line a while. The man who checked us in was named Magalhaes and Eduardo said he probably was related somewhere in the family line when we joked about how we must be related. It reminded me of our toast the night before at the restaurant. We toasted to the Magalhaes family and Paulo who might join it someday. I did not take my husband’s name, but I still see myself as Magalhaes too. It is nice to feel a part of a large and happy family. I felt lucky to have two such wonderful names and families.

After we were checked in we made our way up to the second floor and said our goodbyes to Flavio and Eduardo. The flight from Maceio to Rio stopped in Salvador. We had great seats and watched the coastline all the way to Salvador. There was never a break in it and it looked pristine. We could tell that roads did not go to a majority of the coastline and fantasized about trying to get to some of those beaches. They must be lovely.

We lost those good seats from Salvador to Rio and did not see the great statue, the Cristo, but Rio itself is beautiful. The mountains were calling to me. They are jagged and unreal. When we got off the plane to face our 7 hour layover, I made sure we walked outside. I wanted to breathe this Rio air and promise it I would return to explore those hills.

                                                                                                                        

While in line to check in, we meet a family sending their daughter to L.A. to see if she would like to study for a year there. She was on the same flight as us and even sat in the row ahead of us. She had not flown to the States before. Her parents were friendly and her Aunt pretended to be impressed with the little Portuguese I knew. We enjoyed talking to them.

Security was normal after we checked in but they had additional security on the ramp before we entered the airplane. They searched our carry-on again and waved a wand around us. Then, they let us go into the plane. The plane ride was long again. Upon landing in D.C. at dawn their time, I saw white on the ground and for a moment I thought it was sand and wondered what it was doing in D.C. I quickly realized it was snow.

The flight to Chicago was difficult. We were so close to WV when we were in D.C., but we had to pick up our car in Chicago, so we had to fly there. Getting off the plane and being greeted by Sonia and her girls and Harry was perfect. It was great to see them and it felt like we were truly home. We parted though as they were there to pick up Rebecca and we were headed back to Sally’s house to get our car and drive to W.V.  The drive was terrible, but we made it. Our cat, Cleopatra, greeted us when we  came home. We covered our tans and went back to life, marked by Brasil.

Thursday, January 7, 2010: Part 2: The Beach

Andrea drove Eduardo’s truck and Rebecca rode inside the cab with her. Flavio, Thais, Julia, Ernani and I rode in the bed of the truck. This is not legal of course. And I was a little nervous when they kept talking about avoiding the police, but it was great fun. I also felt a little odd when we were driving through the village. It was the first time I felt as though I was being stared at by the local people. When we got out onto the main highway, I just enjoyed the wind. It felt like a long ride. Andrea was looking for a specific beach and had to turn around once when she went too far past it. But, soon we left the highway and the road became sand. We were close.

We jumped out of the car and found a pristine beach. We were way North of Maceio, but could see the point far off to the south and the high rise apartments on the North side of town. The ocean was perfect. Calm but alive. The sand was warm and soft. The few private houses that lined this beach were big mansions. We dreamed about owning one.

We ran out to meet the waves and as we moved out into the ocean, I noticed I was stepping on something that was moving back and forth as the waves came in and out. Flavio went under and pulled up living sand dollars. There were tons of them. I have never swam with them before.

We played in the waves and helped Julia face them since she was shorter and smaller than us. On one occasion a large and powerful wave came in and we watched Ernani tumble to the shore. It pushed us all back to shore. He was fine, but we had fun describing what he looked like. It had caught him unaware.

We swam a long time in the ocean. The beach was pretty much ours and the waves were wonderful. The water was the perfect temperature and it was such an alive feeling. To swim in something as alive as us was refreshing. I know we are part ocean.

Eventually, we had to leave. We piled back into the truck and drove back. Soon after, we returned to Maceio, refreshed and happy.

That night we had our last dinner with Eduardo, Thais, Paulo, and Flavio at an Italian restaurant. It was delicious. We also gave Eduardo his boat present and they gave us beautiful havaianas. Mine are green with a river otter on them and Ernani’s are blue with a monkey on them. They are endangered species.

We went home and to sleep. Tomorrow we were to fly out and start our journey back to the wintery States. There wasn’t much to say. 

Thursday, January 7, 2010: Part 1: The Ranch: A Farm is Always A Home

When I lived in Tulsa, I meet the fabulous Jamie and her family. Jamie and her two sisters are artistic, smart and generous. Their Mother lives on the Ranch, acres of beautiful land outside of Sapulpa, Oklahoma. It is only about 30 minutes away and in the heart of beautiful country nothing like the city. Grass, trees and trains and violin music all embody the Ranch. Jamie and her family took me in and became my Tulsa family.

The Ranch holds a special place in their hearts, so it was always a special place for all their friends and adopted family. Mama Jo teaches violin and has a heart of gold. I cannot count how many times I ate and laughed and laughed around her wood table. Nor how many times I heard stories about their father who had passed away and was sorely missed. I wished countless times that I had met him in person.

When I meet Ernani, he told me about the Farm in Illinois. His Grandmother lived there and it was one of the only places he ever felt truly safe. It held a special place in his heart because his Grandma was there. She was a one of kind women, also generous. I knew exactly what he meant. I thought of the Ranch and my parent’s home where I felt the same things. 

Just before our last day in Brazil, Ernani said he wanted to go to the Sitio, a ranch outside of Maceio that his Dad owns and that he remembered liking the last time he visited Brazil. He remembered the birds and wanted to see them again. We also knew we wanted to go to the beach again before we left.

Thursday, a friend of the Magalhaes family, Andrea, came by to visit us. As she was visiting, Eduardo called about going to Sitio. We invited Andrea to go with us and she said she could drive. The plan was to stop by her apartment and pick up her niece Julia.

We got ready and piled into her car. It was a warm day, so driving with the windows down and knowing were headed to a place with a pool and near the beach was pleasant. Her little red car was a stick and she maneuvered the streets like an expert. We went around big trucks that were stopped  in the middle of the roadway and slid perfectly into the tiny parking spot on the bottom level of her gated apartment.

We took the tiny elevator up to her apartment, white and sunny and open to the air. Her daughter and niece were there and a little dog of theirs. They had a balcony on the North side of the house that gave a view of the ocean. They were moving soon to a different apartment. I could not help but imagine what it would be like to live in an apartment with a view of the ocean. Heavenly I think.

We piled back into the car. Julia had spent the first few years of her 10 year old life in the U.S. and even went to grade school a couple of years there. She could speak English, but wouldn’t. She could understand us, so we could talk to her. She taught me some words, like excuse me. She was beautiful and fun. She and I and Ernani sat in the back seat and talked and laughed as Andrea drove us to Sitio.

Andrea had a pretty good idea how to get to the ranch from the little village it was alongside. As she drove the main road that lead North out of town, I recognized the turn off to Pajucara’s house that we passed. It was new territory after that turn.

She drove to the little town and through it. The pavement ended when she pulled off the main road and this village was authentic Brazil for me. The houses were side by side and some were markets and delis. People sat outside in the shade of the awnings on tile sidewalks that ran up the sides of the houses and walls. It was dusty and beautiful. The houses were all colors: light yellow, green, blue. Not a tourist was present, except us. And, I was obviously a tourist. Not many redheads in Brazil. Not many people who burn in the sun unless that is desert sun and then they only lightly tan. Oh how I miss that tan and how I hated to cover it back up with winter clothes when we got back to the States.

We got lost in the little village with only 3 roads, but Andrea eventually found the right lane road to Sitio. The lane road was covered in shade. Trees overhung the road and chickens walked across it. We pulled up to the house, which was covered in orchids and birds. Cages and flowers hung from every eve.

It was a ranch house: wood and plants. Eduardo was in the kitchen cooking lunch for us. He made me a vegi salad: red peppers, beats, tomatoes. He also made me fresh shrimp and rice. Everyone else had steak. As he cooked, Julia and I ate buttered bread and talked a bit with him when we were not exploring the place. We saw beautiful orchids and Andrea eventually bought two of them. We swam in the pool and ate. We laughed and talked and enjoyed the afternoon.

Us kids, Thais, Ernani, Falvio, Julia and I, also went up the hill to see the ocean and Thais’ horse. The coconut trees lined the hilly hillsides and the ocean seemed to meet the trees from our angle. It was worth the climb. We went back and took a dip in the pool that had a fountain on one end. When you stood under it, the water massaged your head and back. It was cool and refreshing.

After a quick swim, we decided to head to the beach. It was our last day in Brazil and we were longing to go to the beach. We were to have one of the best beach experiences of life. 

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. 

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.