Scouting Iowa

Sometimes travel requires a scouting trip. The first week of May marked the end of the semester and a change in my future. My students were aware of this change, so the last week of classes was good. They told me they would miss me, and that they had wanted to take more of my classes. As a teacher, this is the best compliment. So, even though the end is always chaotic, it was a good end.

What made the end of the semester more chaotic was also the fact that we had to go to Iowa City before the summer session began. Ernani was scheduled to teach that session. So, while the semester was ending, I was also packing and making arrangements to be away for a week. We were also setting up appointments to see apartments and houses in Iowa City. We left for the Farm May 7^th. It is an 11 hour drive and the next time we make it, we will have a Uhaul and our cat and our possessions. We could not help but be happy that we only had to drive that route one more time.

And, that Saturday we hung out at the Farm with Ernani’s family: his sister and her girls, his brother, his brother’s wife, and their girls. We had a wonderful time catching up, and they stayed the night, so we got also hang out with them a bit on Sunday, Mother’s Day. Rebecca, my mother in law, was going with us on Sunday to Iowa City. We left in the afternoon, checked in with Shaner and Barb, Ernani’s other brother and sister in law, and their kids Andre and Helena, who kindly let us crash at their place. The hunt for an apartment started the minute we got there. We drove around and took down a ton of numbers. Ernani found a paper and we got more numbers. We also dropped by for a quick, unannounced visit on Ernani’s old roommate Ben and his fiancé Katie. They were getting married in a week. He gave us a good idea about what the average rent should be on a 2 bedroom.

It was through the paper that we found the final place, the place we chose to rent and which we will move to soon. But, it was some time before we saw it and chose it. Monday began our appointments and our first lesson: a condo is really just an apartment. The first place we saw, a condo, was really a disaster. Some young kid lived there who never cleaned and decorated with his Rasta pictures. How many Bob Marley pictures does one room support? At least two, according to this young designer.  And, the place had a deck, but it was shared with the neighbor next door. How appealing. It was an easy no. The guy who showed it kept apologizing about the tenant and the condition of the place. We left as soon as we could.

We drove to the next place, the exact opposite of the one before. There was only one similarity between this next place and the previous place, the guy we met to show us the apartment was the same guy we had previously met at the Rasta apartment. We chuckled over this and then toured the garage and apartment. Immediately, I could envision living here. The tenant was also completely opposite from the last tenant. She left a note about utilities and costs. She also said she had loved living there. She was neat, organized, and decorated tastefully. She had a cat, somewhere. She was gold. If all the other places were dumps, I knew at least I could live here. It was far from Ernani’s Law School though.

And after having lived in Oklahoma, I was a bit scared of the open spaces without trees where this large complex of townhouses was built. I could imagine the tornado and the complete exposure scared me. I liked the hills. They protected me from tornados. The minute we pulled off the interstate, my first reaction to Iowa was I feel more exposed. It is great to see the sun and the horizon, but I have not seen that in about 5 years, so will be an adjustment. I am assuming it will pass quickly and when I need my hill fix, Arkansas is only 10 hours away. Take me home.

We ended a long day of looking having dinner with Shaner and Andre and then watching Transformers. Barb and Helena were busy all week. Helena dances and there was a big recital on Sunday that she was preparing for all week. The whole family wanted to hear about our day, so we would tell Shaner and Andre about it in the afternoon and Barb and Helena about it in the morning at breakfast.

After day one, I had seen 3 places I could live, a Sonic, and found one good Mexican restaurant. My list of must-haves was being met.

Tuesday was more of the same, except that I found a place I really like. I went to the rest of the viewing comparing the places to it. It had some issues, like no garage and a tiny, tiny kitchen, but I loved the wood floors, the light, and the sealed basement. I was sure we would not find one better. It was also close to campus. I kept calling it the place I love. I was a bit smitten. But, something better was just around the corner.

Rebecca came with us to the morning appointments on Tuesday, but left that afternoon to go back to the farm for her Wednesday yoga. We looked at places, joined the amazing co-op, and made plans to meet up with my friend Carol at The Red Avocado for dinner at the end of our day. It was a great restaurant, all vegan. I have not been able to order everything off of a menu in over ten years. And Ernani liked Carol, so all was perfect. We told her about a dump we saw just before our dinner that ended our day of searching. The landlord sold his driveway to football fans and the tenants got nothing of those proceeds. In fact, he allowed the football fans to use the bathrooms in the basement and the tenants paid for the water they used. I had never heard of such a ludicrous arrangement.

Wednesday we were on our own. It was also our 3 year anniversary. This was the day we found the place. We saw it that afternoon. The tenants showed us the place. It was a duplex with three stories: a basement with the laundry facilities we alone use, a first floor with the kitchen and dining and living rooms, and a third floor with 2 bedrooms and a bathroom. It also has a garage and is in a quiet neighborhood near the bus stop. One of the tenants said what we were thinking: it has everything you look for in a place. We discussed it that night at dinner and found out from talking to Barb that she knew the landlord, who owns a great, local coffee house chain in Iowa City and whose daughter dances with Helena.

The next day, we saw one other place and then as we were sitting in the car in a driveway to another place in a downpour, I turned to Ernani and said: Let’s get the place we saw yesterday. He was happy. I was happy. Our cat in WV had no idea the plans we were making for her future. We immediately called the coffee landlord and made arrangements. The rest of the day, we spent at the Corraville public library, which is beautiful and where I plan to spend a lot of time in Iowa City.

The next day, we signed the lease. We had a successful scouting trip. Everything was moving in the direction of Iowa City and it felt good. The hard part has been waiting for the end of July. 

A Reflection on Travel

Yes, this is a travel blog, but I am a metaphor person too. Travel in its most dramatic form is physical. I buy that expensive plane ticket, get on that plane, my body moves through the sky, and I arrive at an exotic, new-to-me destination. We recognized that form of travel without question, but we can also never physically leave a place and travel too.  For example, when I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, my imagination plays the scenes of the novel in my head. Time passes fast with a good book. I have never left the couch, expect maybe to get some food or tell the cat no, but I have been traveling in my head. We also understand this concept of non-physical travel. We even understand how life itself is travel as a journey. That cliché comes up in many an old 80’s Rush song.

I have blogged about a physical and exotic travel I took in January to Brasil. This was also a life travel as well since I was meeting a whole set of in-laws I had never meet before. My concept of family doubled when I met and married my husband and then again after we were married and I met the Brazilian side of his family. I even meet some of my mother-in-laws friends, her extended family, and they joined our life as well. That is clear from the previous posts. I would also call these elements of travel blessings.

But, our life was about to take on another dimension of travel when we arrived back from Brasil. Ernani had rocked the LSAT and we were waiting to hear which schools he got accepted into and which were to offer us money. We had a big decision to make that would result in us moving, or traveling, to a new city and it could have been Austin, D.C., Chicago etc. They were all over and all interested in him. This physical travel was again coupled with a mental change. He would go to law school and I would pursue work. That work suddenly became open to any possible kind of work, not just teaching.

We have of course made our decision by now. We will be moving to Iowa City, Iowa. This is a place that is close to my husband’s heart. He went to school there for his philosophy degrees and his brother and sister-in-law and their family live there. In many ways, he is going home. I, on the other hand, am moving to a new place. It is another exotic destination and one that presents many options and life travel paths for me. Ernani of course has his new path: law school. What will mine be?

Right now, all I can say is we will see. But, this morning as I was catching up on Gretchen’s blog (http://www.happiness-project.com/), I read an interview she posted with Richard Florida who was talking about the importance of where you live. It does of course matter in terms of happiness. We are happy where we are accepted and where we can pursue what we enjoy. It also matters in terms of what travels we take. Our place does affect us and the places we go do as well. Being close to family matters to both Ernani and I. Being in a job that allows me to teach and be creative matters to me.

We visited Iowa City a few weeks ago. It was a very good trip. We were productive, we found a bank and a place to live. Ernani took a tour of the law school. We found a great coffee shop. The public libraries are amazing and wonderful. There is park every 10 feet. The food in the grocery stores is reasonably priced and there are 4 days of farmer markets in the area. My friend Carol is 20 minutes away. My parents are only a day away. My brothers about 5 hours away. The farm is 2 hours away. It seems a wonderful place to live and raise kids and be a writer. When I told the landlord I was going to pursue writing as work, she did not dismiss the idea or respond negatively. She was sincerely enthusiastic about it as a workable idea. I took this as a good sign of community and acceptance.

If community acceptance is key to happiness as Richard Florida asserts, I pray that Iowa City accepts me as I think it might. This is my wish. This is my new travel destination. 

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?