Category Archives: Brazilianaire Vol. 1
The 2004-2005 travel adventures of The Brazilianaire
Valley of Gold
A city of churches and colonial pizazz!
After my adventures in Miracema, I visited Belo Horizonte, Brazil’s third largest city. The words Belo Horizonte literally mean ‘beautiful horizon’, none of which can actually be seen inside the city as the hills are so steep. Belo Horizonte was a nice place and I met some cool people, but it really is just another city. So it wasn’t too much longer before I was heading over to nearby Ouro Preto, a colonial mining town that has a real historic feel to it. This area was full of gold until it was all mined and sent back over to Portugal in Brazil’s early history.
As the bus started to weave its way into the city, we passed about 100 or so empty buses all lined up on both sides of the road. I began to feel a little ill at ease about my decision not to book any accomodation before arriving. Thousands of people had descended on Ouro Preto for the ‘Dia de Tiradentes’ holiday and some political meetings that were taking place at the same time. There were dignitaries, drunkards and what I believe was the Brazilian punk scene who had turned up to riot against their leaders, the USA or anything else that looked ripe as a target.
I descended the rocky steps to my cheap hostel accommodation, and was instantly met by a friendly looking dark guy who, with a broad beaming smile shook my hand and asked if I happened to play the guitar. Daniel was a bit of a Bob Marley, Pearl Jam and Jimmy Hendrix fan so entertained me for a few hours with his singing while my room was being readied. Later that evening, he took me and some of the other travellers out to see the town a little more. So if you’re ever nearby Ouro Preto, be sure to stop in at the Poussada Sao Francisco for, at the very least, a refresher in reggae music.
Forgetting English
Paulinho’s night school where he teaches English
I have met a number of people here in Miracema who speak English. But I think I might be forgetting how English works, because its a little difficult to understand them at times. But with my Portuguese and their English we manage to cope.
Meet Paulinho. He has three jobs, and is passionate for the English language. He soon became my most regular visitor here in Miracema. He calls me Mister Adam every time he sees me as he wants to practice his English. I visited his night school where he helps to teach adults who never got the chance to go to school when they were young. I felt an inspirational chill when I was introduced to the whole school and talked with a few of them. Some of the students were older than 60 but just wanted to get an education.
Meet Terese. She runs an English school here in Miracema and nearly broke down in tears when I came to visit and speak with thirty of her students. As she says, We need more forig-aners to practice our English with. The students were a bit shy to start with, but after taste-testing some Marmite, they loosened right up and began to ask questions about Australia and Sydney. They couldn’t believe that I had learnt Portuguese as few people in the world speak it. English to them is a language of opportunity, opening doors in other countries for work and communication. For me, Portuguese is all about understanding a culture better by speaking to them in their language.
Tarantula Attack!
A very hairy way to die
People with phobias of spiders should not read past this point (if the picture hasn’t already killed you). I now have a phobia of spiders and didn’t even re-read this next section after I wrote it…
Practice makes perfect apparently, so I was out on the streets chatting after dark at the window of some new friends. I must have been totally engrossed in the conversation, because when one of them pointed at a spider near my foot, I could only remember to curse in Portuguese. I am ambivalent about the existence of spiders. I don’t necessarily have them around the house or anything, but I also don’t have a huge fear of them – Australian spiders that is.
Black, hairy and lethal, this tarantula was at least 10 cm in diameter – that is, if you squeezed all of its legs together and then tied it up with string into a ball. With its legs stretched out I would estimate the diameter would have had to have been double that. I didn’t get much time to admire the size of it, as the owner of the house threw some liquid on it followed by a burning match. The blaze was a beauty and made some headway in diminishing my growing fear of spiders.
Seeing the charred corpse the following day cemented my newly discovered phobia and now I tend to roam the streets at night, jumping with terror at the slightest movement by pieces of appropriately sized litter blown by the wind.
From the City to the Country
The Bakery Bees: live-in sweeteners at the Miracema bakery
While in Rio I met Savio, a Brazilian actor who had spent the last 3 years in New York. We soon became good friends and spent a lot of time together at the beach and eating out at many of the good restaurants around Rio. After my robbery, he invited me to visit Miracema, his home-town, and spend some time there in his family’s house. This was the perfect solution for me to not spend money, stay with a Brazilian family and get to know the country life.
As the bus rolled into town I knew straight away I was going to love this place. We arrived at dusk to find the homes and streets bathed in a glorious orange. As I walked with Savio around the streets we were always running into new people to say hello to. Im pretty sure that not many tourists stop in Miracema by the way that people would regard me with odd curiosity.
After meeting his family and extended family, I had a shower and then hit the streets to taste some of the Miracemense nightlife. We walked maybe 30 metres before we met someone else and stayed there talking for a while. I made at least another 50 metres up the street before we ran into the next group of people that wanted to chat. Two hours, ten conversations later and another 1.5 km down the street we arrived in the city centre. The corner bar was open and people were milling around ordering drinks, pizza and other snacks. My portuguese improved dramatically over the next few hours as I recounted my story of the drugged piece of chewie with the locals and swapped stories of Rio.
Making my way back to the house I felt completely at peace. This is one of those country towns which people dream of. Tranquility, peace, no violence and a burgeoning sense of community spirit and friendliness. This place is so friendly that you have to factor in which route you will take to get to your destination if you want to keep track of the time.
Things are done a little differently around Miracema and thats fine with me. I went into the local bakery the next morning and was shocked to find the place filled with bees. Discovering that this was normal for the bees to hang out and help make all the sweet buns even sweeter. I had to take pictures…
Then Mugged Again…
Happier times at my apartment – Danny’s birthday!
And just when you think that nothing else can go wrong I get mugged again. This time it was only for money in the street no drugs or chewing gums. But it was more of the timing that was annoying. I was still waiting for my replacement Visa card from the last robbery, leaving my apartment the next day, and down to my last $150 in cash. I had transferred some money through to my emergency card but it takes up to 72 hours to arrive here in Brazil.
The irony was that I was walking down the street at night to give away my pillows and sheets and sleeping mat to the people who were living on the street. For some reason, there were none to be found and I had to walk to the next suburb to finally relieve myself of all of the bedding. On the way back, someone else kindly relieved me of my last $150. I had been careless and in a rush to get my apartment cleaned up and I hadn’t thought about how much money I had in my pockets before I left.
I was due to go to Miracema the next day. Miracema is like the outback of the state of Rio de Janeiro and it was going to cost around $35 for the bus. I also needed to catch a taxi to the bus station which was going to cost between $10-18. Having had my last money stolen and only having $9 in notes I was feeling a little worried. Then I remembered my coin collection I had counted it earlier and it had come to $42. Picture granny at the bank counting out 1,000 five-cent coins and you might get a better idea of what I was working with.
I didn’t sleep very well that night, being financially unsure about everything that was to happen the next day, and I only had a packet of biscuits to eat which left me pretty hungry. It really made me stop and think what it must be like to be down to your last dollar and have no option of a place to go but the street. At least I had options of friends that I could stay with if it came to the worst.
But the next morning I signed out of the apartment, went to the bank and found that my transferred money had come through just in time to help me keep me off the streets.
Some of you may be reading this and thinking, Get out of that country you crazy traveller you! Not a chance. I wouldn’t swap the experiences I’ve had for anything. Overcoming our problems makes us stronger and wiser. I also don’t want to put you off coming to Brazil. The two bad people I met in Rio are nothing in comparison to the hundreds and thousands of other friendly, genuine people I met here.
Drugged and Mugged
At the Botanic Gardens in Rio
I had been thinking that it was good fortune I hadn’t been robbed in Rio for three months, but that has now changed and in a big way!
I met another Brazilian traveller in the street one afternoon, started talking with him and ended up having lunch and talking about the different things in Rio that were interesting to see. After this we were walking and he bought a packet of chewing gum and offered me one. Having seen him buy the gum I didn´t think much of it at the time. But now I am pretty sure that he swapped it for a pre-prepared gum in his pocket before giving it to me.
After some time I began to feel dizzy. I don´t remember much more after this, only waking up the next day in hospital. Scary!
I had two friends arriving that same day to stay with me. They rang the bell at my apartment and no one answered the door. They returned a few times and still no one was there. There´s a youth hostel two doors down from my apartment so they slept there for the night.
Danny returned to my apartment the next morning and rang the bell. I don’t remember waking or really talking with him, but I remember hearing his voice and somehow opening the door (this took me about 15 minutes). He saw I was not myself and got me to hospital and contacted the tourist police. I was vomiting a lot and was drifting in and out of consciousness.
However I don’t remember a thing about it all. The drug I had been given was powerful and is called a ‘Good Night Cinderella’ here in Rio.
After being released from hospital, slowly my head started to clear and I began to store memories again. Friends from Rio were there to help me and I returned to the apartment to find that most of my things had been stolen. My computer, camera, phone, some money and clothes had been taken.
It was weird to think that someone had been in my apartment for a considerable amount of time and could have done anything that they wanted to do. I don’t remember anything and it scares me even now to think what could have happened.
I know that God and my friends were looking after me. At the hospital I happened to see a workmate of one of my friends in Rio. He phoned her and she and her boyfriend came to help me at the hospital and at my apartment. I don’t know that many people in Rio so for me to just come across someone in the hospital like that is extremely lucky, or at the very least a miracle.
Now I am okay. I am not afraid to go out on the streets and continue my life as I was before. But I keep on seeing people who look a little bit like him every now and then and it gives me a little chill.
I still need some time to process everything that has happened. But I know that I have some great friends here in Rio looking after me. Also the stories of the different people praying for me back in Australia was very touching. Thank you for your prayers. I know they have helped me.
Well I hope I haven’t scared you off travelling for life… because I know that I will continue to travel and live my life to the full as it was intended to be. Never let moments like this discourage you. Take every opportunity to make something out of everything that happens. Only a fool hides behind his fear.
One amusing thing about my ordeal was that I forgot the English language temporarily when I was rousing from my drugged slumber. Danny, my Australian friend who was visiting me, had a little trouble understanding what had happened when I explained everything to him only using Portuguese. (Rafa, you must be proud of me as your Portuguese student forgetting my native tongue and picking up the local language)
After this I spent some time relaxing on the beach and keeping everything pretty low key. Danny and Aija stayed around in Rio longer than they planned just to keep an eye on me and for their presence I am really grateful.
The Boy from Ipanema
Everyone claps on the beach immediately after each glorious sunset
“Young and tanned and toned and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking. And when she passes, each one she passes goes Ahhhh.”
If you don’t know the song ‘The Girl from Ipanema’ then you obviously haven’t spent enough time listening to music in elevators. This song was composed by Tom Jobim in a bar in Ipanema, Rio de Janeiro, which is now named after his famous tune. However the food there is a little expensive and nothing inspirational for future musicians so I only recommend a moments thoughtful reflection at the entrance….
I may not make everyone go, “Ahhh”, when I walk past, but I have become something of a boy from Ipanema, by moving into an apartment there a few weeks ago. Originally I had another apartment lined up with someone for Carnaval, but at the last moment, she changed her mind and backed out of the deal. Finding a new apartment took a lot of time, and I ended up having to wait out my time in a dodgy hotel… complete with questionable sheets and a perilous staircase of death.
Big thanks have to go to my friends Fernando and Ricardo for helping me to find the new apartment!
Travelers Tips:
Stay at the ‘Adventure Hostel’ in Ipanema. It’s close to the beach, to transport and in a safe location two doors down from where I was robbed (hehehe). The staff are great and the included breakfast isn’t half bad either!
Carnaval!
Just one of the myriad of floats appearing at Carnaval 2005!
The number of foreigners exponentially exploded and the streets were overflowing with tourist shirts, cameras and different languages.
The frocks were out and about in the streets at the annual ‘Banda de Ipanema’.
Basically the idea is everyone gets behind a giant truck with speakers and dances around the streets for about 5 hours. It’s a great day out as everyone goes crazy with the costumes and is happy to enjoy themselves for the day.
The street parties or ‘Blocos’ each have a different flavour in the different suburbs around Rio. There’s always something happening somewhere so you can never be bored or sit still in this town during Carnaval!
I don’t know if you have ever seen pictures of the giant Carnaval parade, or Desfiles de Escolas de Sambas in Rio. All I can say is wow! Danny, Aija and I jumped onto a train on Monday night and walked down to the Sambodromo, the purpose-built Samba stadium designed by Oscar Niemeyer.
We had to hang out and look for scalpers on the night as we hadn’t bought tickets beforehand. Eventually we came across one that we felt might not be ripping us off by much and went to meet a friend of a friend with a suitcase full of tickets. But the uneasy feeling passed when the magnetic strip worked and we made it through the gates.
The parade begins at 9.00pm and usually finishes around 7.00 the next morning. Each group or ‘school’ of samba takes an hour and a quarter to get through and can have up to 8 floats of gigantic proportions and thousands of people in costume to dance and parade. There were 14 samba schools in the main parade over two nights. The floats were amazing, the dancing was intense and the atmosphere was juicy.
On the train ride home all I could think about was all the costume shops in Brazil, bereft of anything glittery or sparkly for the next three months!
Carnaval isn’t just a huge party. The Government in Rio use it to promote community spirit. Communities will decide to pay to set up a school of samba, and then pay to create floats and costumes and write a new song to march to. The Carnaval parade has a number of judges that look at things like harmony and quality of the dancing, the roles of the different people, the floats and a whole host of other aspects.
The winner of the parade gains a large sum of money from the Government to put towards their local community. This year saw the Beija-Flor school of samba win again. They’ve now won three years in a row.
Visitors!
Fernando, Danny, Aija and Ricardo at the Banda de Ipanema
I was blessed while staying in Rio to have plenty of visitors come to stay with me at the apartment I was renting.
Rafael, my portuguese tutor, returned to visit his home country. I was able to acclimatise him back into his own culture pretty easily. We met up with two of his American friends in Rio as well, Lee-Michael and Matt, and we hung out at the Marriott hotel in the Executive Lounge for a while with a great view over the beach.
Danny and Aija came down from Canada to visit Brazil for a few months and arrived in time for Carnaval in Rio. Their introduction to Brazilian culture included açai, this purple berry mixture from the Amazon that is chock-full of guarana, and agua de coco, the delicious water inside the green coconuts.
Fernando and Ricardo, two of my friends from Sao Paulo came to stay for Carnaval as well so it was a full house!
New Year Superstitions
New friends for Christmas (Natal) and New Years (Reveillon) in Sao Paulo
I’ve heard of not walking under ladders, avoiding the paths of black cats and something about breaking mirrors, but in Brazil there’s a whole new code to learn.
For New Years, people deck themselves out in pants and shirts of different colours. Typically the white outfit is a standard as it signifies you are hoping for peace. By wearing red, your love life could improve, or yellow so your bank account can mysteriously increase in size. But whatever you do – don’t wear black.
Many people will buy and wear new underwear of a specific colour to see in the New Year and increase their luck. Personally, I think it’s great to see everyone thinking hygienically and it makes for a great pick-up line on New Year’s Eve…
And the local chicken shop would suffer from a lack of business at New Years as you can only eat meat from animals that don’t scratch dirt in a direction behind their feet… like fish for example (primarily because they don’t have feet.)
Tales of The Brazilianaire 