Up the Amazon in a Hammock Jungle

Saturday, July 22nd, 2006

This is insane! Even for us… It is exactly what I expected, but nonetheless it’s nuts. The cargo boat is the usual size around here, about 16m x 4m (50ft by 15ft), as big as a spacious living-room. However, it is set up for about 200 hammocks that hang literally on top of each other. It is a fabric maze of all colors of the rainbow, impossible to walk through in a straight line. A jungle, that’s what it is. The Brazilian jungle on my left and right, and another, floating, in the middle. The only difference is that in this fabric jungle the bugs don’t bite as much and those hanging from these vines are less likely to drop a coconut on your head.

The boat was to leave around 7pm, but we got here a good twelve hours beforehand to snag the good spots. Nevertheless, my first thought was, “Great. No more room for us,” but a local woman showed us how it’s done, and in no time we were looking at our “beds” swinging not too far away from a pile of old life jackets. Satisfied, we left the boat to run some errands. There were snacks and water to buy, backpacks to pack, and another round of shots to be administered – doctor’s orders. For the past few days I have been sick as a dog, sweating like a pig, and, after running around town, I wanted to be shot like a race horse with a broken leg. I felt a bit melodramatic. Ever since we got off the freezing night-bus that brought us to Belem, I have been running a fever. Alex finally looked down my throat with a flashlight and said, “Alright. We are going to the hospital NOW.” Apparently my airway was about to close up. In the hospital the doctor was quick to give her diagnosis and suggest a treatment even before I finished describing my symptoms. “You’ll have to get a shot,” she said. “In the butt. Well, actually two – one in the butt and another in the vein. Well, technically four: three intravenous and one in the behind.” Splendid. Dreading the hospital by this time, we’d done some shopping first and, as I was getting worse and worse in the heat, made our way there.

By now, my fever was gone and my throat cleared up, allowing me to swallow food without pain, but my stomach and back were still giving me trouble, so I agreed to the shots. Unfortunately, this time two factors were against me. First, there was no room for me to lie down for the shot in the butt, as today, a Monday, everybody who failed to be cured by Sunday’s prier in church were brought to the hospital, so we had to do it standing up. Not a good idea. Second, this time the shot, painful as it is on its own, was administered not by a cute and careful male nurse, who managed to insert the needle with a minimum amount of pain, but a middle-aged female nurse passing by in a hurry. She jammed the needle in my butt cheek without so much as a warning. For a few minutes I couldn’t walk, and a sympathetic doctor walking past said, “Hurt, didn’t it? Well yeah. She sort of does that …” She bit her lip and made a stabbing motion to illustrate her point. “Yeah,” I thought. “That she does.” I limped back to the hostel and lay on the couch in the bums-up position, at least having some fun freaking people out when they asked what happened. “I got stabbed in the ass,” I would say, and hold a dramatic pause, watching their eyes widen and mouths drop open. “With a needle. By a doctor,” I would add eventually. Ha-ha.

Tags: people
Posted in Places»South America»Brazil | No Comments »

Trucking Along

Friday, July 14th, 2006

The reason for the next four days was this quote “… on epic 4WD-journey to Parque Nacional dos Lencois Maranhenses you’ll roll past sand dunes and splash through creeks, ducking palms as the untouched landscape unfolds around you.” “The best part is getting there,” Shurik was very excited about this. I went along. I would be lying if I said I was completely uninterested how this will turn out.

Tags: architecture, festival
Posted in Places»South America»Brazil | No Comments »

Jeri

Sunday, July 9th, 2006

From one beach town to the next. From Pipa to Jericoacoara. I don’t like it here. I finally understand what it means for a place to have the right vibe, and this place just doesn’t have it. The beach is dirty and the sand buggies are expensive to rent. We finally did team up with two Italians, Paulo and Ricardo, and went riding to the remote beaches and lagoons, but that just resulted in a vicious sand-fly attack that kept me scratching for days.

Posted in Places»South America»Brazil | No Comments »

Happy Anniversary to Us!

Tuesday, July 4th, 2006

If we were in Boston today, we probably would have had a sushi party like last year. We would have had a house full of friends toasting to us, and at night the whole happy slightly buzzed bunch would have accompanied us to the shores of Charles River to watch the fireworks.

Posted in Places»South America»Brazil | No Comments »

Salvador

Sunday, July 2nd, 2006

We flew here. It’s not like we got sick of buses, I actually almost miss the crippling pain in my back and the smell of the portable lavatory, but it was simply cheaper to fly then to take the bus. The whole plane thing, though, actually threw us off. In a night we went back to being wide eyed tourists who fall for all those little tricks the local come up with to get their money. In Salvador, it’s these colorful ribbons. I think in actuality they are supposed to be worn by believers of a religious strain, but the local beggars use them as conversation starters. “A gift. For you,” they say, and go on to explain how this is very spiritual and unique to their culture. How life here is difficult and for us might be dangerous so we should not walk down that street over there and he himself, by the way, is living on the street and has a baby, and the baby has AIDS, so could he please have some money to buy some milk for the baby. Now, what do you say to that? “I gave money to a foundation that helps kids with AIDS.” I actually just did, not even two days ago and have the pin to prove it, but my comment was met with a bank stare. Like this is going to help him even if he has the baby. I gave him the change in my pocket, and he simply turned around and left. You’re welcome. After a few incidents like this, Shurik and I decided we spoke no other language than Russian. Communicating only meant being asked for money, and it’s a shame – Salvador is very rich with African culture that we so wanted to explore and now were reluctant to. Keeping to ourselves, we still managed to see a lot. The local Capoeira artists swinging and jumping around each other in circles of clapping to the beat onlookers; the Berimbau – a musical instrument I’d never seen before; and the Baianas – women in their traditional enormous skirts.

Tags: culture, festival
Posted in Places»South America»Brazil | No Comments »