River travel...

Navigating the river São Francisco (Map taken from:http://www.sfrancisco.bio.br/html/mapbacia.htm)

I´ve decided that Brazil shouldn´t just be known for its beaches. It should actually be famous for its rivers... Of course we've all heard about the Amazon - the world´s largest river which Brazil shares with other neighbouring South American countries and which I am yet to visit. But I´ve also discovered recently that with a bit of river navigation in just the small state of Sergipe alone, there are actually many beautiful spots to be encountered close to home. The river São Francisco (also known more affectionately as Velho Chico - Chico being the common nickname for Francisco, and velho meaning ´old´) is the country´s largest river that

belongs to Brazil alone (see map on left). The river begins in the state of Minas Gerais (which is also debatable according to some recent scientific research), running up the country, crossing the state of Bahia and meeting the Atlantic Ocean between the states of Sergipe and Alagoas in the north-eastern region of the country, as well as serving

as a natural boundary between these two states. The river São Francisco is currently the topic of much controversy due to the federal government’s plans of transposição - that is, changing the course of the river in order to provide water for the arid parts of Brazil’s north-east. This idea has actually been around for many years, however a lack of engineering and technical resources meant that nothing ever eventuated. Decades later, the project was revived again,

and since a water crisis in this region in 1999, transposition of the river São Francisco has been seen as the only solution to this problem. The proposed project would see the river being divided into two new courses; one of them taking wate

r up to the states of Pernambuco and Paraíba, and the other serving both these areas as well as states even fur

ther north, like Ceará and Rio Grande do Norte. The river’s transposition would apparently generate thousands more jobs during the constructions, benefit over 12 million people with urban water supply systems, improve the quality of rural water supplies, reduce problems caused by draught

(like food scarcity and rural unemployment), irrigate abandoned areas creating new agricultural opportunities, and reduce the number of diseases due to contaminated water consumption (or lack of water) thus taking pressure off health services. On the other hand, there are also many negative aspects associated with this project, and, in particular, those generating environmental concerns. The river’s ecosystems would suffer from major changes and the creation of new aquatic environments different to the existing ones (in areas where the river did not pass before) would alter water volumes, having a serious impact on the biodiversity and populations of plant and animal species. The introduction of harmful fish species would be another factor, and land animals could lose their habitats due to the possible deforestation of over 400 hectares of vegetated land. Some existing rivers do not even have the capacity to receive such volumes of water, which would result in the flooding of nearby streams. This project could also have serious social consequences - putting pressure on urban infrastructures of the cities receiving the workers and requiring the circulation of workers through indigenous territories. Increased water levels in reservoirs and the use of more canals and tanks could also increase the rate of water-related illnesses, such as dengue fever, malaria and yellow fever. Excavations would put archaeological sites at risk, and a great reduction in the river São Francisco’s generation of electric energy would also result. However, in spite of these potentially negative consequences, it does appear that this project will go ahead, although I have yet to meet somebody who is actually in favour of it…The state of Sergipe (where I am currently living) is lucky enough to claim many of the beautiful spots accessed by this river (as well as its tributaries and other rivers too), and over the last few months I have taken every opportunity on offer to discover these places. The river mouth (or foz in Portuguese) of the river São Francisco and its sandy delta right where the river meets the sea (with sand dunes, a large lake and sporadic coconut trees), create a beautiful destination well worth visiting and I have now been there three times - each visit proving to be an experience entirely different from the last. I first went there back in July, taking a tour from Maceió (a city in the state of Alagoas), and embarking on a river trip from the cute little town of Piaçabuçu (see earlier blog entry entitled Maceió, Alagoas). However, the weather wasn´t exactly spectacular so I was certainly keen to get back there a second time. I then returned to the foz from Sergipe´s side of the river, hopping on a boat in the municipality of Brejo Grande after semi-participating in a community project in a small country town nearby, located right near the river São Francisco (I will update on this community visit later on). On this particular trip it had rained the entire night before and we were therefore very surprised to witness the weather suddenly and miraculously clear up as we swallowed our last mouthfuls of breakfast on the verandah of our riverside accomodation where a group of us had stayed the night, making for a perfect day on the river. We boarded the boat right in front of our accommodation for the night, a lovely little spot where locals continued washing their clothes at the river’s edge in the town of Brejo Grande, as the boat departed. This particular boat trip seemed much more worthwhile than my previous visit to the foz since it revealed much more of the river and other points of interest. It was also much better exploring the delta under a blue sky (unlike my first visit), even if it did leave the sand dunes piping hot...The boat trip also lasted a lot longer – stopping at various secret spots on both the way there and back, such as shallow sandy parts of the river which formed peaceful and miniature beaches, making for regular and relaxing fresh-water dips. One slice of the region’s history that was drawn to our attention was represented by a cute little lighthouse sitting in the water and leaning on an incredible angle, only just visible from the delta’s sand dunes on the other side of the river. The last town in the state of Sergipe before the river meets the sea is called Cabeço. This lighthouse used to sit in the middle of Cabeço’s town square. It now sits 400 metres out into the sea, as the town was partially washed away…My third and final trip to the foz was different yet again. A reasonably sized group of us left Aracaju in convoy and headed for Pirambu, a smallish city with a lot of character, and unique in that it faces both the river on one side (a branch of the river Serjipe, the river that passes by Aracaju), and the ocean on the other. Once there, the cars were driven onto the sand and we continued a great part of the journey along the beach itself before driving back up into reality and joining the dirt roads of Brejo Grande, passing through the small town of Saramém and continuing to the river’s edge where we then piled onto a long, local, motorized boat that fitted all of us as well as the coal barbeque. The boat trip was very long which certainly meant getting a real feel for the river as we headed down one of São Francisco’s tributaries. We made a brief first stop at a sort of island - a large area covered in thick vegetation (mangroves and coconut trees), and owned by the family of our friends hosting this trip. After the guys had tired from leaping into the water from the trunk of a leaning coconut palm, we then continued on our way. The next stop was on the other side of this island, a bit like a small delta - a beautiful and quiet little bay belonging to the river, with the ocean on the other side. After a barbeque lunch (still on the boat although anchored in the bay), we then waded through the water onto the sand – some heading for the ocean with surfboards, others relaxing on the sheltered riverside, or wandering about. After spending the afternoon there, we then headed back along the river and joined up with the main part of the river São Francisco, this time in the direction of the foz. There we anchored at a different spot from where I had been previously - right at the foot of a large sand dune. We couldn’t have arrived there at a better time; we were the only ones there, the dunes were left golden from the lowering sun, and it wasn’t too hot. The rugby and soccer balls were soon pulled out, although mucking around on top of a sand dune wasn´t perhaps the best idea – the balls were frequently lost over the edge and whoever was guilty was sent smartly back down to retrieve them, having to leg it straight back up again. There we also witnessed something quite remarkable – the sun setting over in Sergipe’s direction while a large round moon was already visible high in the sky behind us. Finally we all clambered reluctantly back onto the boat after a beautiful evening, arriving back to the cars in Saramém in the dark... Mangue Seco is another beautiful spot worth visiting, also accessed by the river, although not the São Francisco this time. Mangue Seco is a fishing village located at the extreme north of the coast of the state of Bahia (bordering Sergipe), where the rivers Real, Piauí, Fundo, Guararemu, Priapu and Sagüi meet the Atlantic Ocean. Once there, it feels a bit like you are on an island, although that isn´t quite the case. Although easier accessed by boat, you can also drive there (in a four wheel drive or sand buggy) at low tide from the Costa Azul. Being a slightly more difficult destination to reach has an advantage though - making it a tranquil and relatively peaceful place to visit. With 30km of semi-deserted beaches, Mangue Seco is also especially famous for its white sand dunes which cover a large part of the area between the ocean and the river Real, and which also became the setting for a famous Brazilian soap opera (Tieta) in 1989. Mangue Seco´s fauna is very diverse, with migrating birds, sea turtles, and the river Fundo is apparently one of the last refuges of the peixe-boi (sea cow - a bit like a small whale that lives in fresh water). My first visit there was with a group of very lively university students who had organized this trip as part of their studies in tourism. (I was invited to tag along by the lecturer, André’s sister-in-law). It turned out to be a very amusing day. The bus left Aracaju and headed for Estância, a town further inland about an hour away. We then boarded a boat and began our tour. This trip was great value for money. We spent the whole day on the river and were constantly offered fresh tropical fruits and local seafood delights, followed by a buffet lunch which was also served on the boat. We stopped occasionally for a swim in the river and then eventually anchored up at Mangue Seco where we spent the rest of the afternoon before venturing back along the river. My second trip to Mangue Seco was on my birthday, and was different again. Instead of driving along the main highway to Estância, two carloads of us headed in a different direction and hopped on a ferry (cars and all), travelling there via Abaís. There we stopped at a small bar on the edge of a river/fishfarm, where large black fish (tambaquí, a species from the Amazon) are reared. You could purchase food rations from the the bar and feed them, luring the fish closer and allowing you to touch them and swim amongst them. They were a little bit on the timid side but came close enough for a stroke providing you were quick – the tambaquí really is a fascinating animal. We then continued on our way, parking the cars at a riverside restaurant where little launches offer rides to Mangue Seco, although I cannot remember the name of this place. There we managed to bargain the price down a little bit and we piled into two small motorboats, heading for Mangue Seco. On the way we stopped at a beautiful place called Ilha da Sogra (ilha means ´island´, and sogra means ´mother-in-law,´ although I am not entirely sure why they chose this name). There was no shade to be found but it was such a beautiful and peaceful sandy spot to explore before heading on. Once at Mangue Seco, a few of us took a buggy ride up onto the dunes and then back along the beach where we met up with the rest of the crowd. We spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach and lazing in hammocks provided by a casual beach bar, and also witnessed a tiny little turtle being released as it attempted its first journey out to sea. We then ventured back to the boats and returned to where our cars were parked before heading back to Aracaju to watch the orchestra’s last concert of the year, which we nearly didn’t make it to having missed the intended ferry crossing and having to wait, although it all worked out in the end since things here never commence on time anyway… Another great river spot, and a bit closer to home this time, is Croa do Goré, only a quick and inexpensive boat ride away from Aracaju. The boat leaves you there on a small sandy island (which only becomes visible, and therefore also visitable when the tide is out) in the middle of the river Vaza-Barris, where there is just one casual restaurant selling food and drinks. A large group of us ventured there one day and it made for a very pleasant afternoon. The river is shallow enough for frollocking about, or even placing your chair in it, since cooling off in the water is a welcome treat given the lack of shade in this area. Every so often a boat would arrive with the occasional visitor, or the odd kayak would pass by. This spot is obviously only accessible by boat, but well worth a visit...

Life in Aracaju...

The blog is back. Actually I have always been around, I just haven´t been on the move as much recently and have therefore lost that constant travel and writing rythm that I had somehow managed to maintain before. That combined with being busy, and a little bit of procrastination...Actually, having been in the same place for the last four or so months is probably my main excuse for temporarily abondoning the travel blog, since I haven´t come across as many interesting things to report on with the same frequency - not that these last few months haven´t been interesting. I have been living in Aracaju, a city in the north-east of Brazil where I spent a fantastic month back in June/July (refer to earlier blog entry entitled Aracaju). Aracaju is the capital of Brazil´s smallest state, Sergipe, and is where I plan to live for a while. Having auditioned for a violinist spot in the Sergipe Symphony Orchestra back in July, I then continued with my travels and headed North (not expecting much of the orchestra job since I hadn´t actually planned on staying in Brazil in the first place, but thought I would give it a try anyway). I spent a week or so further north in the state of Alagoas (see very last blog entry) where I saw some beautiful things despite the mostly rainy weather, and where I met some interesting people. I then received an email from Aracaju where I was called back to for the orchestra job, and which brings me up until the present day. I have been fighting Brazilian beaurocracy every since. I never thought that stitching up a work visa could be this difficult. Actually, to be honest, and despite my intentions of settling somewhere in South America to live and work for a while, I had never imagined that Brazil would be the place. I knew of no international work agreements between Brazil and New Zealand (unlike with Chile, Argentina, Uruguay and Mexico, although I think that is currently changing), and had simply assumed that it would be just as impossible to find a job in this country as it would be to obtain a work visa. But alas, there was actually quite a straight-forward solution - well, so I thought. One of your options as a foreigner, is to apply for a two-year work visa providing you have been offered a work contract by a Brazilian employer. Apparently this can later be extended for another two years, if so desired. So it all sounds quite manageable, so far. You apply for this work visa together with your potential employer, and once your application is in the hands of Immigration (who then communicate with the Foreign Affairs department, something like that) it is meant to take up to three months to process, allowing you to then enter the country and work. Well given that I am already in the country, that means I have to leave the country and re-enter just to get the work visa in my passport... Ridiculous, I know, but any normal person would still be in their country of origin whilst applying for the visa - it was just me that had to do things backwards. Given that Brazil is such a huge country, there will be no quick and inexpensive way of just "hopping over the border" to get the visa. The closest Brazilian consulate outside of the country is in Argentina (or Paraguay), so that will involve an expensive flight or two. I use the future tense here because I am still yet to be given the go-ahead to even deal with this step - I am still waiting on my work visa application to be approved. My situation became complicated when the "employer" entered the picture. The orchestra belongs to the state of Sergipe, so it became the State Secretary of Culture´s responsibility to make their contribution to my application. Let´s just say it´s been a very frustrating few months. The NZ embassy in Brasilia, Brazil´s capital city, was hardly helplful, giving me incorrect information and then simply referring me on to someone else (a website). Numerous documents had to be arranged and I became completely exasperated with the incompetency and complete lack of urgency of most of the people involved. For example, the first lady (a lawyer) dealing with my documents at the Secretary of Culture went on prolonged sick leave after having plastic surgery, without even bothering to inform me. Once I had retrieved my documents from her, my precious bits of paper then entered the never-ending cycle of being handed from one person to another, each assuring me that things would be taken care of... Well I soon learnt not to relax whenever I was told this. Each time I would entrust my documents in these capable hands, I would return to the Secretary a week later, only to be told that (due to a read-between-the-lines combination of incompetency and sheer laziness), that particular person was not actually the right person to deal with those documents, and that it would be better to talk to such and such a person. And so the weeks passed by. I guess I can´t really be too critical - Sergipe is a small state and doesn´t receive many foreigners, and people are therefore unfamiliar with the process. But it was getting very frustrating and discouraging (especially given that time was precious) - racing to the Secretary after orchestra rehearsals on a regular basis (and usually having to pay for a taxi due to unbearable midday heat and time constraints since most state employees tend to only work until 1pm), only to be informed that no progress had been made. FINALLY a younger lawyer there took over and was the first person to actually make a difference to my situation, completing the process for me quite efficiently (if only she had been called upon several months ago!) and anything she was unsure of she would simply find out how to do. Pronto. Finally the ball was rolling, but Brazil is like that apparently - you cannot entrust your business with anybody and expect it to get done. You need to constantly chase people up (in person) and apply pressure to actually see results, and ideally you need an influential contact to receive special treatment, ie. to rescue your documents from the bottom of the pile. In Portuguese they say Quem indica. It´s not what you know, it´s who you know. I am told that this is more than relevant to Brazil in many situations - especially when finding a job, meaning that many well-qualified and deserving people often miss out on opportunities simply because María (looking for a job) is Rogério´s sister-in-law (the company owner) - that sort of thing. This exists all over the world of course, but it is particularly relevant here in Brazil. As for my side of the work visa application, study and professional work experience (as a musician, in my case) had to be proven. Certificates and work reference letters needed to be authenticated at the appropriate Brazilian Embassies (England in the case of my violin exam certificates, and New Zealand for my reference letters) and then officially translated in Brazil before even been considered by Immigration. This was the most annoying, time-consuming, and beaurocratic part - anxiously awaiting the arrival of my ORIGINAL certificates as they did figure-of-eights around the world with expensive courier companies that appear to be no faster than normal postage, and having to ask many favours not being there myself to initiate all this. Well I am still waiting on my work visa to come through and to then be given the go-ahead to leave the country (only to come straight back in again). Then finally my name will have to be publicized (as it is a state job) which can take at least a month before being able to officially start to earn money. So it´s a never-ending battle and there have been times where I have felt like giving up, but I am confident that things will work out eventually. It almost puts you off living and working in another country altogether, although if I ever attempt it again I´ll certainly feel more psychologically prepared... Beaurocracy. I now most definitely know what that means, and it reflects itself in other ways too. There just seems to be a long process for everything here; you must always expect to wait in a long queue; at the bank, the doctor, or wherever else. Sometimes you even wait for a lifetime in a queue, only to be told that you are waiting in the wrong queue, or just to pick up a form to then fill in and join a different queue. So although the idea must surely be to make these procedures more efficient, it doesn´t always work out that way, and to top it all off, they usually provide a television screen in these places showing novelas (those horrible soap operas I have talked about before), leaving you forced to watch them. So anyway, here I am, in Aracaju, and André (who introduced me to this city in the first place, back in June) has since returned here from New Zealand to be with me. Actually, if it weren´t also for the help of André´s eldest sister Anáber (my surrogate mother, life savior and friend), I probably wouldn´t still be here today. Most people (locals) wonder what on earth I am doing here. One person even asked if my plane had crashed somewhere nearby... People´s reactions as to what exactly brings me to Aracaju of all places, are about as interesting as their knowledge of my country. New Zealand is regularly confused with Holland, and was even mistaken for an island off the coast of Bahia, north-east Brazil, by one waiter in a restaurant... I am used to it now. Many Brazilians from my generation know of NZ mostly from an old children´s TV programme that was hosted by a puppet dog called Jaca Paladium, who would tell strange stories and claim that all of them happened in Nova Zelândia. People also express their concern that NZ must be cold all year round, and are even more fearful that the country will disappear with the next natural disaster (tsunami being the one causing most concern). NZ is usually and understandably associated with adventure sports, and short bungee-jumping snippets will often appear on late-night television, although nobody seems to know about the sport rugby, let alone recognize even just the name of it, even if you try and pronounce it with a Brazilian accent (hugby) - hence my complete feeling of alienation from last year´s rugby world cup. Usually rugby is what foreigners first associate with NZ, but I suppose soccer is just far too important here for any Brazilian to even be interested. If you liken it to American football they usually start to understand, although linking your country to the United States probably isn´t such a good idea either here in South America since it doesn´t have the most popular of reputations, like in most other countries of the world. Everybody is left astounded at NZ´s miniscule population size, assuming that everyone lives in Auckland - leaving the rest of the country for Lord of the Rings film scenery... I must say I do feel quite proud of my beautiful country when I see images of it screening on Sony television screens in the shopping centre´s electronic stores. I stand there mesmerized every time, and with a twinge of home-sickness, wondering how on earth they thought of NZ here in little Aracaju when choosing images to promote their television sales. You also come across NZ music from time to time, at some of the beaches´ surf bars. I have rented an apartment which is just walking distance from the relatively new theatre (my work-place - where the orchestra rehearses and often performs). Small, affordable apartments are well sought after in this area (not that it´s even close to any beach, park or tree-lined avenue), so I consider myself quite lucky to have found this one. Or perhaps nobody else wanted to share a flat with a family of cockroaches and a transparent lizard, who, although helpful at getting rid of the cockroaches by swallowing them, couldn´t quite keep up with the birth rate. I have since bought some poison which has dealt with the situation completely. I am now counting down the days until the completion of major roadworks nearby (they are building what is probably best described as a viaduct or mini spaghetti junction), since traffic has been more than temporarily diverted right past my bedroom window, making for a dusty combination of constant traffic noise (even at night), the traffic warden´s whistle, and mouthfuls of heated Latino abuse after the common nose-to-tail car accident. The constructions have taken longer than expected, which doesn´t surprise me at all. One of this country´s most common examples of corruption in politics reflects itself when you see dirt roads around the city waiting to have concrete layed, or roads that do actually have ashphalt, but very poorly done. You can be sure that in these cases, politicians have obtained the money required to fix things up, yet have kept it for themselves (or used only a portion of it to do a shoddy job and kept the rest). No progress can then be made until the next politicians are elected, since the money can only be obtained for these projects once. This is a common reality here in Brazil, and actually one of the less serious ones. But as I wait for these particular constructions near my home to be finished (whilst also hoping not to develop lung cancer from the constant blanket of fumes that come my way), I take comfort in the fact that at least this one project will be completed since the recent progress can be noted daily. And I still like my apartment despite all this - it is handy to so many things. My monthly rent is the same price as you would pay weekly in NZ, and it is well located. I´ve bought a bicycle which has made life a lot easier. Nothing fancy - just the cheapest one available at the nearby hypermarket (which also happens to be the official bicycle of the Sergipe Symphony Orchestra for that particular reason). Not that Aracaju is the safest city for cycling, although it is a very common form of transport here, and given that it was a planned city, there are virtually no hills. There are several well organized cycle lanes in certain areas, but other than that you have to bravely throw yourself out onto the road and join the impatient drivers - and nobody wears helmets here. I have already had two accidents and now everybody thinks I don´t know how to ride a bicycle. But despite this clumsy and uncoordinated reputation that I seem to have acquired, I am still pleased with my two-wheeled purchase - life changed completely the day I bought my bicycle, as Aracaju is much better enjoyed when you have your own form of transport. Motorcycles are also another common form of transport here in Aracaju, although I think I´ll steer clear of them for a while too after learning to ride one recently and having a slight accident. The bike was so heavy that I toppled over when trying to park it and badly burnt my leg, adding to my already colourful legful of scars and varicose veins. André and I have made tentative plans to eventually travel around South America by motorbike. I certainly won´t be driving, although it is handy to know how, in the event of any potential emergency that could occur at some point in these intended Motorcycle Diaries. My flat is also close to a swimming/gym complex, so I have signed up for swimming. The monthly membership fee is ridiculously cheap and the pool is so close to home that I just couldn´t resist, although the complex´s timetable restrictions limit you to swimming under the midday sun. It is now summer here and the heat is quite something. It is also becoming more humid here with the arrival of summer, noticed more when leaving an air-conditioned building, although certain parts of Aracaju are also graced by a sea breeze now and then, while others are not. The sun starts beating down at 5.30 in the morning, so there´s no getting up early to avoid it. Walking to work around 8 o´clock in the morning leaves me sweating, although being greeted by air conditioning on arrival usually solves the problem. I now understand this local obsession of showering constantly, and also the reason for most houses having only cold water. For any physical activity outside, it is best to wait until after 4pm if you want to avoid the sun, and I´ve even taken to walking around during the day with my bright red umbrella sometimes - I don´t care if I look stupid, it is just simply too hot to spend long in the sun. This is one of the reasons for changing my eating patterns too. North-easterners (contrary to further down the country), eat a large cooked lunch and then have something lighter for dinner, with coffee, like a toasted sandwich or cuscuz (an interestingly modified version of couscous). They call this tomar café. And occasionally, for something a little more filling, they´ll eat some fried carne-de-sol (salted beef that has been left in the sun for several days) or lingüiça (a bit like sausage) with macaxeira (a tasty root vegetable that expands and becomes slightly gooey (but in a good way) when boiled in water with salt). So I too have inverted my meals. It does afterall make a lot of sense to have a larger meal at lunch, taking the opportunity to stay inside and perhaps have a rest to escape the midday sun before getting back to work or wherever else, and then eat something lighter later on. Given that Aracaju isn´t too large a city, many people return home to have lunch, and breaks of two hours are commonly given by employers. Certain shops and services also close for a couple of hours so there is no point in having a rushed lunch and then racing straight back onto the street to sort your life out. So apart from the work visa waiting game, I am feeling well settled here in Aracaju - for now I can quite happily call it home, although there are still a number of little things that I miss about New Zealand. I would just love to plonk myself down on the grass in a large, green, peaceful park for example, under the shade of a huge tree with its leaves rustling in a cool breeze... Lounging around in parks doesn´t really seem to be all that common here, let alone sitting straight on the grass. It´s a bit like going to the beach here - back in NZ I was used to plonking myself down on a towel. Here people seem to be glued to the deckchairs of whichever establishment´s services they are using. Some locals have denied this observation of mine, but this is what I have noticed here, at least on Aracaju´s beaches. Getting overly dressed up just to leave the house is another thing, and I take it from the funny looks I receive and the occasional comments from people I know better, that if I don´t make more of an effort I will probably always be looked upon as a scruffy backpacker... High heels are used even if they impede one´s ability to walk, and if your toe nail polish is flaking off and needs re-doing, somebody will certainly let you know. But nevertheless, I feel so glad to have retained my kiwi simplicity. NZ wine is another thing I miss. While some of this country´s southern regions are better known for wine production and while more expensive varieties are apparently paleatable, the majority of Brazil´s standard wines are simply undrinkable. They are incredibly sweet and taste like grape juice, the whites as much as the reds (although I now feel as if I am insulting grape juice). Luckily for me, André was kind enough to overload his suitcase with a very generous selection of leading NZ wines which we are slowly savouring and introducing to local friends. There are times when I also crave for NZ dairy products. A decent cheese here is very expensive and the affordable ones just somehow don´t compare to even NZ´s more basic ones. It isn´t worth buying fresh milk if you are living alone since it doesn´t stay fresh for long. You have to constantly boil it to make it last for more than a day or two. People therefore often resort to using powdered milk at home, which, although is fine for making a vitamina (blended fruit smoothie), I personally cannot cope with the idea of it turning to sludge at the bottom of my cup of coffee. Sometimes it is just easier to give the milk a miss. But I am not complaining, for on the other hand there are plenty of things available here that I love and will surely miss when I leave. Tropical fruits continue to be one of the things I love most about north-eastern Brazil. You can afford to get really carried away in the supermarket´s fruit and vegie section without having to worry about your budget, and the open markets are even better since they have a larger variety of some of the more curious fruits. And if you have friends with fruit trees in their gardens you are in luck, getting sent home with regular bagfuls of mangoes (of which there are still several different varieties), and other fruits too. One of my current favourites would have to be umbu, a smallish, round, green fruit with a transparent flesh inside. The umbu is sour but tasty, and makes a very refreshing juice. Graviola is another great one for blending up a nice drink - a much larger green fruit with knobs all over it, and with a creamy white flesh inside that you annoyingly have to peel from the large black seeds surrounded by it. Jaca is another fruit which I tried for the first time recently. It looks a bit like a rugby ball, only much bigger, and is covered in green/brown spikes with delicious segments of yellow flesh inside, again enclosing seeds which make it annoying to eat, but worth it in the end. A range of juices are always on offer in bars, restaurants and barracas, and you can also make any type of juice you want at home if you have a blender, using either frozen pulp which you can buy cheaply at the supermarket, or using fresh fruit itself which is of course even better. You can also sip on a chilled coconut water for just 50¢ (which is even less in NZ cents) wherever coconuts are sold on the city centre´s streets. Ask the vendor to cut the coconut open when you´ve finished drinking it and you can use a chunk of the shell to scoop out the coconut´s meat. Prices increase once you get near the beach though. Lastly, I think my vote for Aracaju´s new culinary contender would have to be caldinho de sururu, a portion of seafood soup (sururu being a type of oyster typical of this region) that you can order very cheaply at any beachside establishment and enjoy with a squirt of lime. As for Aracaju´s climate, well it really is too hot here but I still wouldn´t ever trade it back for NZ´s damp winter, and by avoiding the sun when it´s at its hottest you learn to cope with it. Seasons don´t really exist here. It just rains more during the period I guess you could call winter (and hardly ever during the rest of the year, which is great), with slightly cooler temperatures (although still comfortable - a bit like summer in NZ), and the rest of the time it is just hot. The sun sets early the whole year round, with very little variation. This I also miss about NZ - being able to make the most of daylight until much later at night... As for the orchestra, well I´ve really enjoyed being part of it over the last few months. The Sergipe Symphony Orchestra really is quite a special one. Unlike most professional orchestras, the players are mostly all very young. It does however have musical potential (although it is still growing and there is also a lot of room for improvement ) with some talented longer-standing members staying put, and some recent new arrivals. Most of the concerts are held in the theatre where we rehearse, although others have taken place in the city´s cathedral, in parks, and occasionally out of town. I think a favourite for most of us was a concert we did with Wagner Tiso, a Brazilian composer who joined us on the piano for an entire programme of his own compositions and arrangements (see photo of Wagner and I below). Socially, it has been fantastic. I now have a large and eclectic bunch of workmates who have almost become a bit like family. These musicians come from all over Brazil, so it has been great meeting people from all corners of this diverse country. Regular barbeques after late Sunday morning concerts take place at the "club", which is a group of houses where a number of the musicians live, complete with swimming pool, coconut trees and the occasional visit from a small monkey. Other social opportunities are always on offer (after concerts or otherwise), and never without a good laugh (or heated discussion). Our table is always by far the noisiest, leaving an impression wherever we go and never without some of the rowdier members embarassing even strangers passing by. Internal politics, although a common thing within all orchestras, have made the last few months very interesting too. I won´t go into detail, although troubles between musicians and the conductor/management have escalated recently, making for a very tense atmosphere in the workplace - involving repeated verbal protests during public performances, musicians losing their jobs, and more. There was a time where the orchestra would constantly feature on the news or appear in the newspaper, and I would see myself on the television nearly every night. For a while there, I think the concerts were attracting an audience mostly because of these dramas but the orchestra has now completed its programme for 2007 and is on holiday until mid-Februrary, so any tension has died down - at least for the time being. This also means that most of my collegues have returned to their respective ends of the country until February... Just to change the subject completely, there is also a zoo in Aracaju, something I was very surprised to hear about given that it isn´t a particularly large city. Given its small size it is more of a park than a zoo, and it is also free to enter, being the ideal place for a peaceful afternoon stroll. The enclosures are a bit on the small side (although they have been greatly improved according to locals), leaving the lion with psychological problems and pacing back and forth with not much else to do. Unfortunately the bear died recently of intestinal problems, although it was torture to put him there anyway given the hot climate, and I was quite pleased to see my first puma, having hoping (or perhaps not) to come across one back down in Patagonia. Highlights of this zoological park were probably the arara-azul, a beautiful and rare blue Brazilian parrot who I´m sure would have pecked my nose off had its attempts at biting its way through the wire been successful, another colouful parrot-looking species, and the cheeky monkeys that greet you with acrobatics as you enter the park on their little foresty island in the middle of a lake. Another part of Aracaju that I have discovered recently which is at least new for me and worth mentioning, is Atalaia Nova. For those who are familiar with my home city Auckland, visiting this spot is a bit like crossing the harbour bridge and visiting the North Shore and its surrounding suburbs. Here, it is the river Serjipe that separates Aracaju from this spot that I am talking about, and you can look back on the city from various points at Atalaia Nova (Aracaju´s illuminated Christmas tree looked particularly spectacular from there with the city as a backdrop and with its lights reflecting on the river. Aracaju claims it to be the second biggest in the world!). There used to be a ferry that took people and their cars across, however there is now a new and impressive bridge which makes access much easier. Having local friends with holiday houses there creates a perfect excuse to visit Atalaia Nova. I am really keen on the beach there, where low sand dunes level out onto a vast, flat and deserted stretch of beach - far from any restaurant and often with just one lady selling chilled beverages under her tent. It is the perfect place to muck around with a rugby ball, even if it only attracts strange looks from the very few locals that pass by. If you are in search of something a little less remote, a contrasting part of Atalaia Nova is at the river´s edge (before the river meets the sea) rather than the ocean beach I was just referring to. The river area (which has been sort of turned into a beach, with waves) is busier, and there are numerous bars to be found there where you can sit under the welcome shade of an umbrella and enjoy refreshments, or nibble on steamed crabs with friends. I saw the new year in for 2008 at Atalaia Nova with André and friends, which was great. The last few weeks have been very busy socially - catching up with local friends here who now live in NZ but who are back in Aracaju visiting their families, enjoying the beach, and taking every opportunity to tag along on any brief excursions out of the city. The state of Sergipe, although small, has many beautiful places to visit and so amidst the country´s festivities for Christmas, New Years and with the build-up to Carnaval (and while I wait on my work visa to come through), we have been making the most of these opportunites... Further updates to follow!

Alagoas...

Maceió & Maragogi, ALAGOAS

I´ve been making my way up the coast of Alagoas, one of Brazil´s states that I really knew very little about before actually approaching it and hearing Brazilians rave about it... This stretch of coast is particularly famous for its beautiful beaches, coral reefs, leaning coconut palms, crystal clear waters, natural swimming pools that form at low tide, and most importantly, its phenomenal turquoise waters. Unfortunately for me, I picked the wrong time of year to visit this region. Winter´s inevitable frequent rain and a particularly bad patch in the weather meant that the sand was churned up by the waves, leaving these normally spectacular waters darker and much less idyllic than I know they usually are. However, I did still manage to see many beautiful things during my week or so in Alagoas, and on the odd occasion where the weather did clear up for a brief moment, I was able to see the amazing potential that these beaches have. I would still definitely recommend this area as worth visiting (just not during Brazil´s winter months) and I certainly plan on returning there myself. From Aracaju I first caught a bus to Maceió, the capital city of the state of Alagoas. There I stayed in the only youth hostel I could find (most of the accomodation there includes pousadas which are reasonably priced although expensive for a backpacker, and upmarket beachside hotels). My hostel was located in the very affluent neighbourhood of Ponta Verde. It was only a short walk from the beach, very close to a decent, large supermarket (I love supermarkets in foreign countries), and a really safe area for wandering around even at night. During my four days in Maceió I met an interesting mix of people. Most were Brazilian (as most of the tourists there are), including the two funny ladies from Rio de Janeiro I shared my room with - one of them was a right royal character who had travelled north just to go fishing. I also met some great Europeans, although one of them was an unfortunate Italian from Milan who complained about absolutely everything and who just wasn´t enjoying Brazil at all. During his very short tour of Brazil he had chosen to visit destinations at only the most extreme ends of the country, which meant spending more time in airplanes than anything else and backtracking in all directions. He insisted that the Italian language didn´t ressemble Portuguese in any way whatsoever (I disagree), and was completely unimpressed that nobody could speak English to him. I didn´t like his attitude at all, and it makes me really wonder why some people actually bother travelling sometimes!! Anyway. I just had to get that off my chest. The beaches in the city of Maceió itself aren´t necessarily the most beautiful in the area (although it´s always nice to have the ocean handy) - it pays to get out of the city a bit and explore the coast in both directions. Given that it was raining every single day that I spent in Maceió, I decided to make the most of the numerous passeios (excursions/tours) on offer to different beaches out of the city. I usually steer very clear of any sort of tour as they are usually too expensive and I find that the quality doesn ´t usually meet the price you pay, and you also lose your freedom to stay as little or as long as you like in a place. These passeios however, were actually very economical, with the van picking you up at your door and with friendly guides who actually knew what they were talking about. On my first day I took a gamble despite the horrible weather in Maceió and set off early on a tour to the Delta do São Francisco. This was really worthwhile. Being nearly a two hour drive away from the Maceió, we were fortunate enough to leave the rain behind us. The scenery along the way was beautiful - endless sugar cane plantations creating a distant landscape of green rolling hills. We arrived in the tiny little city of Piaçabuçu (which is really just a friendly little fishing village) alongside the river São Francisco, and from there we took a boat down the river arriving at the delta and river mouth after about 20 minutes. A group of locals also headed there in their little boats - filled with supplies, beating us there and setting themselves up ready to sell things as we got off the boat (food, drinks, crafts etc) before we wandered up onto the sand. I´m told there are a number of similar yet larger and even more incredible places further north in Brazil, but this delta really was quite surreal, and given the horrible weather back in Maceió we were actually incredibly lucky to not encounter even a spot of rain. The delta was fascinating - a bit like a mini desert, with the sea on one side, the river on the other, lots of sand, a lake, and a few coconut palms. We spent the perfect length of time there - not all that long although definitely long enough given the heat. As we left, so did all the locals - a day´s work complete. Once back in Piaçabuçu, we ate lunch in a causal river-side restaurant. A wander around the streets would have been nice, although it started pouring with rain just as we had finished eating so that was a pity and it was then back to rainy Maceió. The next passeio I went on was one that combined visits to three different beaches south of Maceió, and only a short distance away. Like the day before, it was raining, however I went regardless and I am glad I did. The first two stops (at the beaches Praia do Francês and Barra de São Miguel) were only brief visits to get a feel for them and take a few photos, and we then spent the remainder of the day at Praia do Gunga. Access to this last beach was through a huge and privately owned coconut plantation. The weather almost packed in completely as we arrived, but then the sun miracrously appeared for some reason and it turned out to be a hot sunny afternoon at the beach, although my fellow carioca fisherwoman friend (who knows the beach well) was most disappointed that the rest of us didn´t get to see the sand at its whitest and the water´s gorgeous colour and transparency at its best... On the beach I got chatting to a great Brazilian family from Belém, which is a city up north near the mouth of the Amazon. I spent most of the afternoon chatting to this very friendly bunch, and they are keen to orientate me in their city when I get up there eventually. Unfortunately, I left Maceió without a visit to the natural pools just 2km off the beach of Pajuçara. Locals take you there in jangadas (small raft-like boat constructions) although the weather was never good enough to make the most of this and I didn´t want to hang around waiting for it to clear up (which just wasn´t going to happen) when I could be visiting natural pools elsewhere in the region (which are apparently better anyway). So I then headed a couple of hours north to Maragogi, a small fishing village that was recommended to me. I love arriving in places of this size - where you only need to walk a short distance after getting off the bus before stumbling over a place to stay. There I found a room in a pousada, paying a little more than I had intended yet which was actually very reasonably priced for what it included. Maragogi, despite being a popular attraction especially amongst Brazilians, didn´t feel touristic at all, and I almost felt like I had slipped in unnoticed. I went wandering in the evening and came across a friendly Argentinean artisan and her Brazilian husband (and dog - who promptly snuggled up to my legs and who also promptly relieved himself of his fleas!). This couple were travelling around Brazil, making jewellery, and living off their sales. We ended up chatting for ages and then ate dinner together. The next day I hopped on a boat and headed out to the Galés, the famous natural pools of Maragogi. It was a guy called Wellington who booked this trip for me. I was very impressed that he already knew he shared his name with the capital city of New Zealand, especially given that most people I have met lately have confused New Zealand with Holland, Germany, or just Europe in general... The Galés are located about 6km off the shores of Maragogi, and are the natural pools that everybody talks about as being the best in the area. Unfortunately, the weather wasn´t the best for this outing, but it had to be done and at least the rain held off. While the water out near the reef was much more turquoise than the water back at shore, it was still very windy, so visibility under the water amongst the corals wasn´t as clear as it would have been on a calm, sunny day. However I still managed to go snorkelling which was great (my first ever coral reef experience) and saw plenty of interesting fish species, most of which were actually very friendly and unperturbed by this human invasion. As the boat prepared to return, the weather turned very cold and windy, but despite this it was still a worthwhile trip. It must be pretty spectacular when the weather is right. Later that evening I went to sample some tasty tapioca prepared by a lovely old Bolivian man. I ended up sitting there for several hours - chatting to various regulars as they came and went, and slowly reviving my espanhol. It was there that I met Andrea, Cassiano and their baby - a lovely couple from Recife who ended up inviting me to their beach house the next day - past Barra Grande and only a few kilometres away from Maragogi. I had actually planned on heading north the next day but changed my mind and took up this kind offer instead. So the next morning I hopped into an old kombi van leaving from the square where young guys were screeching out various destinations (this seems to be the official form of transport in and out of Maragogi). As we drove off, a youngster hung out the door and continued to call out in all directions, and a couple more locals soon joined us - one holding a very well-behaved (live) chicken, and the other a crowing rooster. I was then let off at the gate of the beach house and only had to pay one real for this colorful service. Andrea and Cassiano were suprised I had actually showed up given the weather, but I am certainly glad I did. This property has a great location - less than a two hour drive from Recife (where this family live) and whose backyard happens to be a beautiful beach. The property is covered in coconut palms as it was originally a coconut fazenda. They showed me some photos of what the water usually looks like, and I was left completely dumbfounded. The colour of that water was something out of this world, yet like I said, I´ve picked the wrong time of year to see it! Due to the rain and wind, the beach didn´t ressemble those photos at all, however I still spent a very enjoyable day there and a couple of brief windows in the weather changed the water´s colour slightly, offering a sneak preview of this beach´s paradisal potential. Andrea and I sailed out to the reef on their small catamaran, and there I went for a snorkel. The wind left the water a bit rough but it was still worth a go. I almost swam right into a huge, dark, unidentifiable creature which gave me such a fright I ended up swallowing several gulps of water as I quickly retreated to where I had come from. I have been known to invent such ocean sightings in the past but I´m pretty sure I didn´t imagine this one!! Whilst frollicking amongst the corals I was also joined for quite some time by a tiny yellow fish who was just so gorgeous and full of personality - who keep peering at me through my mask and who hung about at my side, keeping up with me for a good while. It was such a gorgeous little moment... I then spent the rest of the afternoon in a hammock, eating lunch, drinking Argentinean wine and chatting with Andrea and Cassiano about cultural differences (this always leaves plenty to talk about), before getting a ride back to Maragogi. I am definitely keen to return to this little patch of paradise and visit my new friends, and actually to return to Alagoas in general at a better time of year and explore the area more...

Aracaju...

I have been in a city called Aracaju for the past five or so weeks, which is the coastal capital of Sergipe, Brazil´s smallest state. This city is probably one of the less-known destinations in Brazil, at least where international tourists are concerned, but there is still plenty to do here and the state of Sergipe has a number of beautiful things to offer. The city of Aracaju itself isn´t necessarily the most pittoresque if you compare it to many of this country´s architectural gems - it seems to be mostly made up of appartment blocks (with the occasional spotting of a horse or donkey pulling a wooden cart of supplies or rubbish around the city - creating an interesting contrast), although I do quite like the summery style of many of the houses here... Aracaju was however well worth visiting and I have had the most amazing time here. This city certainly does have its strong points, it is relatively safe, and like I´ve said before, it´s the people you meet that really make a difference to your experience in a place... This last month in Aracaju has without a doubt been a great highlight of my travels, and for a number of reasons. Firstly, and most importantly, some amazing people have entered my life and I wouldn´t trade these experiences for anything in the world. I have been staying with Andre (and his mother) who, along with a few other of our Brazilian friends was once a local aracajuano but now lives in NZ. Fortunately, and despite both our itineraries constantly changing, Andre´s visit ended up coinciding with mine, which made for a great time here. Andre´s family is fantastic. Words simply cannot express how wonderful they have been to me. He has a great set of older siblings, most with very affectionate kids ranging from four years old up to my age. His father is a complete character and everytime we´ve visited his chaotic household (in the midst of redecorating) I have always felt like I could have stayed chatting for hours longer... And his mother has of course been wonderful to live with. She too is a bit of a character and her contagious laugh sporadically fills the appartment. The concept of family here is very strong. I have been discovering this not only in Brazil, but all throughout my travels here in South America. Unlike in NZ, it is not uncommon for people in their late twenties or early thirties to still be living at home with their parents, and you really do notice the closeness and affection that exists within the family. Parents generally provide financial support for their children until they finish studying at University and the concept of "family first," in whatever form, more than applies here. I couldn´t even begin to count the number of times that locals have looked at me in complete astonishment after learning that I am am willing to travel by myself, stay in cities where I don´t know anybody, and most importantly, be away from my family for so long. Travelling out of Brazil is difficult for most here - the distances (even within in Brazil) are huge, it is expensive, and this also means being separated from your family... I really have learnt so much about the importance of family here and I hope to be able to take some of these things I am learning with me... Anyway, so I have thoroughly enjoyed every family get-together (these happen often) here in Aracaju and feel very priviledged to have been included in the first place. I´ve shared many laughs with these wonderful people even if I have ended up being the object of amusement half the time, especially when discussing things I find a bit odd coming from a completely different culture. For example; the need to eat feijão (beans) at least once a day (Brazilians can´t understand how I cannot), and the funny looks I get when I decline the offer of sugar in my coffee, or when I prefer to drink a glass of water instead of anything else. I also face looks of concern sometimes at not eating enough, when actually I have just filled my stommach with a huge plate of about ten complex carbohydrates and sometimes various types of meat! I´ve also noticed a tendency to apply very interesting culinary combinations, such as banana with your average meal, mixing avocado with a sweet fruit salad, and piling large quantities of farinha de mandioca (a type of coarse flour derived from a root vegetable) on top of almost every meal. Condensed milk is another thing that I am struggling with. Brazilians, at least here in the North-east, just love it, and you will very rarely find a dessert that doesn´t include it as an ingredient. I swear I will never lick the remainders of a tin of condensed milk when baking again! Another thing; you must never leave your bag on the floor - it will get dirty (which doesn´t really make sense to me since Brazilians tend to be constantly cleaning). Ideally, your bag should have it´s own chair in bars and restaurants, and if it means having it on your lap the whole time then so be it! Then there are the Brazilian novelas. And I thought the Chilean ones were bad... Imagine all of the most cheesy soap operas combined and you will start to get an idea of what I am talking about. Yet most Brazilian females (and some males too I´ve actually discovered) will still be glued to the TV screen at certain hours of the evening. People claim that these novelas touch on important themes of Brazilian society, but the quality of acting is just so poor, so unrealistic, and so overly dramatic that I seriously struggle to sit through 10 minutes without cringing, let alone watch a whole one, and unless killing your twin sister in order to steal her husband (the twin sister then comes back to life of course) is typical of Brazilian society, then I am yet to be convinced...!!! But anyway, at least the Pan American games are taking place in Rio at the moment so that adds a bit of healthy variety to TV viewing... And finally, there is this obsession with showering which I just can´t seem to get my head around. This is apparently due to the climate, especially in warmer places like here in the North-east, although given that it is currently winter here (not that winter temperatures are anything to complain about - it never seems to drop below 20 degrees - can´t complain really!) I am still convinced that this is verging on obsessive compulsive - in fact it´s starting to make me self-conscious about my cleanliness. But surely I shouldn´t feel guilty about not reaching the four-showers-a-day quota, should I??! So it´s these sorts of things we like to joke about on a regular basis (all in good humour of course) - the endless array of fascinating pecularities that you gradually discover when immersing yourself in contrasting cultures, where even the tiny little things can appear so foreign to an outsider... The second major thing that I love about Aracaju, is the beach. I´ve seen some beautiful beaches during my travels in Brazil and I´m told I will see some incredible ones further north, but there is just something about Aracaju´s beach that I can´t seem to get enough of, and I have grown quite attached to it... The beach is so spacious. It´s a long, straight stretch of coast that seems to go for miles - disappearing into the distance with no end in sight. When the sun is out, the sky´s deep blue colouring reflects in the wet sand, as do the beautiful warm tones of an occasional pink sunset... There are casual bars and restaurants dotted along parts of the beach, most spilling out onto the sand where you can sit in the sun and enjoy your fresh juice, cold beer, água de coco or something to eat. You can also flag down the vendors that pedal along the beach on their bicycles selling ice-creams (highly recommended). A game of frescobol (beach tennis) is an absolute must, although it pays to watch where you stand in order to avoid the small stinging jellyfish... I had seen people playing this on the beach in Florianópolis and in other places, although I had never attempted it myself until now. I am still very amateur and poor Andre has had to put up with a weaker playing partner for the past few weeks but at least I have improved since playing for the first time and I have since bought a couple of rackets and balls to take with me. I am very much addicted. The theory is (at least when playing on Aracaju´s flat beach), that if you actually play in the water, the ball gets stopped by the waves rather than you chasing after it as it bounces 2km down the beach... The water´s temperatures here in Aracaju are also quite phenomenal. The sea is so warm here. This also makes for a particularly pleasant evening swim. Andre and I did intend to go running along the beach more often. This only eventuated a couple of times, but at least the intention was there! Certain parts of the beach aren´t exactly walking distance from home, however Andre´s father was generous enough to part with his motorbike for the length of Andre´s stay which made for many a pleasant cruise to and from the beach, and cycling there by bicycle - although it took longer and could get a bit hot in the sun - was also good exercise... I couldn´t have arrived in Aracaju at a better time. Not only because Andre´s visit ended up coinciding with mine, but also because I arrived just as June´s festivities were heating up. São João is an annual and highly celebrated festival that is especially popular in the North-east of the country. It involves a lot of live music and dancing (forró - which is danced in pairs and typical of North-eastern Brazil), typical foods (especially desserts), drinks, costumes and fireworks. The actual day of São João is 23rd June, however the festivities start warming up before this, and continue for weeks afterwards. Even a month later the colorful little flags are still swinging between buildings and in people´s homes, and there is still forró to be danced in the Villa do Forró, a small and temporary village set up for the event with a stage, dancefloor and stalls selling a variety of food and beverages. For anyone wanting to learn how to dance forró, spending São João in the state of Sergipe is definitely your perfect opportunity to practice due to the extensive line-up of live music going on for several weeks and almost every night in Aracaju, as well as in other smaller rural cities further inland. My legs were aching after only two nights of this. It wasn´t until I had recovered from a tropical virus that had been lingering in my system since my time in Bahia that I was well enough to make the most of all the dancing, but once I had my health and energy back I had a great time (that doesn´t necessarily make me a good forró dancer though!). There were so many big festivities going on all over the state of Sergipe during this period that it was virtually impossible to get to all of them, although we did make it to the small city of Estância one night to see the very impressive fireworks that this city is reknowned for. The sorts of fireworks they have here in Brazil are of the type that are no longer considered legal in NZ, and needless to say, I constantly found myself jumping out of my skin whenever one was set off close by. The youngsters of course have no fear in playing with them, and I was suprised not to witness any injuries. The scariest (yet most impressive) one, is the busca-pé, which can be quite spectacular providing it doesn´t chase you halfway down the street. Best observed from a distance that one...! During this period, some nights of forró were bigger than others, like the actual day of São João for example; After a party at Andre´s dad´s place (which was to be my first of many enjoyable family reunions and which took place mostly on the street amongst the continuous supply of fireworks and in between the bonfires that line the roadsides on this particular night), we went to Forró Caju, a larger outdoor area near the city centre constructed especially for these festivities. On this particular night it was so crowded that there was hardly even room for dancing amongst the thousands of forrozeiros there, but we managed somehow and it was a great night... Aracaju is also famous for a number of other interesting little things. It is customary, for example, to eat caranguejos (crabs) near the beach. Along the Passarela do Caranguejo (a long avenue that runs parallel to the sea) there are numerous casual and very popular restaurants where you can sit with a bunch of friends and order your platter of large crustaceans, extracting the meat with your fingers and sometimes requiring the assistance of a small wooden hammer, although apparently it isn´t necessary to beat the heck out of these creatures (as I was doing to begin with - don´t worry they are not served alive), but to simply loosen the joints in order to access the fleshy bits more easily. As you are waiting for your caranguejos to be steamed you can also purchase a couple of handfuls of peanuts from one of the guys walking past (separate from the restaurant itself - New Zealanders would never share business like that I´m sure) which they pour onto the table for you to nibble on, or a chunk of hot queijo qualho on a stick (a type of white cheese which is best enjoyed melted, and a personal favourite of mine) which young boys offer from the roadside, disappearing to heat it up over a small makeshift stove which they carry around. And whilst all this is taking place you can then dispute the spelling of caranguejo... Then there is the caju, a tropical fruit that appears to be the symbol of Aracaju. Who would have thought that cashew nuts actually come from this funny looking (yet deliciously juicy) tropical fruit? - highly recommended after a shot of cachaça and also commonly used to make juice. I am completely fascinated by the caju. I´ve included a photo for curiosity´s sake, and also so that next time you´re munching on your roasted cashew nuts you can put a name to a face!! I´ve also been driven out of the city on a couple of occasions. Andre´s oldest sister owns a farm property just out of Aracaju and so the family often headed there for a churrasco (barbeque). Before one of these visits I was kindly driven through the quaint little city of São Cristóvão on the way there, which was absolutely beautiful. This is Brazil´s fourth oldest city and was definitely worth a peek. I loved the tiny cobbled streets, the little old houses and the various beautiful white-washed churches. There was also a Christ statue on top of a hill nearby. It is much older and smaller than the Cristo in Rio de Janeiro, but to be honest, I thought this little one had so much more character than Rio´s large, clean slab of concrete that has since become one of the seven new wonders of the world... (everybody here knows I still have bitter feelings about that). There is also a new bridge that has been constructed here - linking Aracaju by road to the communities on the other side (the same sort of concept as Auckland´s harbour bridge). This was especially a novelty for Andre since it had been built while he was away in NZ, and we headed over there one day with his brother and sister-in-law to the beach on the other side to have a drink, eat caranguejos, and play a bit of frescobol. I also managed to play the violin whilst in Aracaju. It´s a long story, but basically Andre´s brother-in-law João has a TV music channel which is how it all started. The idea of an impromtu interview in Portuguese (which turned out to be highly embarassing as I stumbled on some of the answers) and playing on TV was at first a bit stressful but then turned out to be very entertaining for all concerned, and which then led to a live show/DVD recording which was also quite fun. It was good to get the fiddle out again after so long... So other than that, this past month has just flown by whilst accompanying Andre on his various visits to friends´places for dinner, family lunches, churrascos, a reggae concert (featuring bands from Aracaju and Salvador), frequenting the best ice-cream parlour EVER which has superb fruit flavours, and following Brazil´s soccer team through to the end of the Copa América. Much forró has been danced and I really will miss that familiar sound of the accordian when I leave Brazil although I´m sure I´ll come across more more of it further North before leaving the country, even if I am now without my favourite dancing partner... Andre also willingly took on the role of pyschologist during his time here - visiting the families of his other aracajuano friends also now living in NZ - reassuring them that no, their children can´t come home just yet but that everything is fine and dandy. It´s been really interesting hearing these parents ask about their children and about NZ. I know I keep saying this, but families here are so close here that the concept of even adult children being away for a few months, let alone a long period of time, really is a huge thing. Andreia (whom I stayed with in Salvador) and her friend Patricia also came to Aracaju for a visit so it was great to catch up with them. I´ve been enjoying the warmest winter I´ve ever experienced (it must be unbearably hot here in summer) and we´ve generally just been enjoying the beach and spending time with Andre´s family. Visiting his father became an outing I always looked forward to - either for lunch or a quiet afternoon whisky, and even a Savignon Blanc from NZ on one occasion which Andre had gifted his father and which was a real treat since the only wine (or should I say grapejuice) that I have tasted in Brazil so far has been virtually unpalatable. That is something I miss about Chile and Argentina, and especially NZ. I´ve enjoyed sampling the various culinary delights that are typical of North-eastern Brazil and I´m continuing to try and love the huge variety of fresh juices on offer thanks to all the tropical fruits that are available (although sometimes I can´t help but be boring and stick to my favourite flavours). I´ve enjoyed the continued Portuguese immersion and have made some really interesting self-observations about my own attempts at trying to pick up this language. I feel so relieved to have studied Spanish beforehand as it really does help in many ways. This is the first time I´ve learnt a language without formally studying it first, which has both its advantages and disadvantages. It´s great for conversational and listening skills, as well as picking up various mannerisms that are specific to certain cultures (even if I do have a horrific accent), although I´ve come across so many words that are written differently to what I had imagined having first learnt them by ear. It´s a very interesting process and I am enjoying it, even though sometimes I get frustrated when trying to express myself with structures that I could manage with a lot more ease in other languages. There is one word in particular which after four months in Brazil I am only now starting to get the hang of. The word puxe appears on most public doors, and although it sounds almost exactly like push in English, it actually means pull. So you as you can imagine, I have to think very carefully before making an embarassing exit... Brazilians also tend to use a lot of hand gestures when talking, to emphasize what they are saying. At first I thought this was just to help me understand what they were saying, but I´ve since discovered that they do it all the time. It´s quite amusing. As great as this Portuguese immersion is, I also feel as if I´m losing my Spanish. I tried speaking it the other day and failed miserable to switch my brain over. It was nothing but portugnol. So I am definitely looking forward to being back in a Spanish-speaking country sometime soon... Andre has since returned to NZ, and on Monday I am heading on north to Maceió to explore some of its neighbouring beaches, and from where I plan to continue travelling further north. I managed to extend my tourist visa a couple of weeks ago and plan to spend another six weeks in Brazil, so I will be updating again soon I´m sure...

Sunny Bahia...

SALVADOR, BAHIA

I have finally made it to the North-east of Brazil. It took a day and a night to hop over to the next state, leaving the cold behind in Ouro Preto and arriving in Salvador, the state capital of Bahia - the land of blinding sun, beaches, coconut palms and African traditions... I had been sitting next to a lovely old man on the bus for almost the entire 24 hour journey, who was very impressed when I pulled out my sleeping bag and wriggled into it (determined never to be defeated by cold air conditioning ever again). He was adamant that I must have made that same journey countless times before to know that it would be that cold... This neighbour of mine was very shy, but once he started talking he wouldn´t stop. He had a very thick rural accent which I could hardly understand a word of, but he was very friendly and told me lots of things anyway. Since heading further north I have definitely noticed a lot of changes from even the distinct accent you hear in Rio de Janeiro. I´m told this is typical of people who come from the country´s interior, ranging from those that ramble away very fast in a completely incomprehendible string of utterances, to those who speak at a manageable speed but with a very thick twang to their accent (or sutaque as it is called here) whenever the letter ´r´comes into the picture (Just think of an accent from Gore, New Zealand, only in Portuguese). So I arrived in Salvador and was picked up from the bus station by the lovely Andreia - another wonderful contact that I had been very kindly put in touch with by my Brazilian friend Andre. I stayed at her house in an area called Vilas where she was living with her siblings. Her absolute character of an aunt lives upstairs in the same building, and would bang on my door in the mornings concerned that I would be lonely when the others were at work, and who would promptly drag me upstairs and prepare me café da manhá (breakfast), chatting away quite contentedly and not letting me help in any way whatsoever. She really was great value. Andreia lives quite a way from Salvador´s city centre (about 30 minutes by car, but it could take up to an hour and a half by bus), however I also went to stay at her mother´s house in Cabula for a few nights and from there it was a shorter bus trip to the city centre, providing you avoided rush hour traffic. Salvador is a large city. It is the third most populated in Brazil (after São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro) and is surrounded by beaches. It seems to rain almost every day there (at least in the winter months), although only briefly, so unless you are caught in it (which does happen) it doesn´t really affect your plans too much... I first saw the city centre at night after going to a church service with Andreia´s mother at Nosso Senhor do Rosário dos Pretos (a church built by African slaves and which took nearly the entire 18th century to complete) - an experience in itself; a very lively fusion of African rhythms, Catholicism and endless offerings of bread... I also returned to the city centre several times by day. I absolutely loved this part of the city. It is beautiful and has so much character. Surrounding the cobbled streets are a mixture of crumbling old colonial buildings, churches and museums from the 17th and 18th centuries as well as others that have been colorfully restored, focused mainly around the Largo do Pelourinho, a sloped street/square/area of much historical importance (the Pelourinho is a UNESCO World Heritage Site). The word pelourinho itself is important as it refers to the columns to which slaves were tied when facing public punishment. The historical city centre is also a very lively place. There are plenty of bars with outdoor seating, people selling things on the street, and countless shops selling Bahian artwork, gifts and souvenirs. Andreia´s mother was at first a little apprehensive of the idea of me venturing into the city centre by myself (everybody in Brazil seems very suprised that I am travelling and managing to do things by myself - even simple things like catching local buses), but having made it there and back safely she had to laugh when she learnt that the worst things I had to deal with were a marriage proposal and a phone number! Salvador is a very diverse city with a very distinct culture from the rest of Brazil. The city´s population developed from a mixture of Europeans, Africans and native Indians, although the most striking influences in the food, culture, population, music, dance, religion and traditions are those associated with the millions of African slaves that were originally brought to the area, beginning in the 16th century... From Salvador I also managed to explore a little bit more of Bahia, although not as much as I would have liked (Bahia is full of beautiful things to see but I would have needed much more time, and more money). Jacuípe was just north of Salvador on the Costa dos Coqueiros (coqueiro means coconut palm). Andreia´s father now lives there in a house that used to be their beach house, so I was taken there to spend a weekend. The scenery was beautiful - a great place for strolling by the water and taking a bit of time out. There the calmer river meets the wilder ocean, and the odd fisherman casts his line in the calmer spots or from the sand bar. Barracas (wooden shacks selling food and refreshments) line the river´s shores, although many of these were closed for the winter months. On the Sunday we were joined by Andreia´s boyfriend, friends and other siblings for a churrasco (Brazilian BBQ) which I have come to realize is a very typical Brazilian Sunday lunchtime ritual, and unlike in New Zealand where you claim your steak and sausages, here the meat, once sizzled, gets chopped into a constant flow of little morcels to be shared amongst everyone until you are all stuffed so full that nobody can move anymore. Praia do Forte was a beach a bit further north of Jacuípe which we drove to after recovering from the churrasco. The beach there was beautiful. It would have been nice to see it at high tide, but it was equally as stunning as we saw it - old fishing boats resting on the empty shores at low tide. The village was buzzing with life and colorfully decorated for the upcoming festival of São João. (I´ll explain later in next blog entry!) The Tamar project also has one of its bases here - a national project established in 1980 and sponsored by the large Brazilian oil company Petrobras, with the aim of protecting endangered turtle species. This project is located at various points along Brazil´s coast. In the village at Praia do Forte we also saw some good capoeira. Many of you are familiar with this, but for those that aren´t, capoeira is an African cultural expression that was brought to Brazil and developed by African slaves. It combines dance, a form of martial art, and music - a form of self defense that they disguised as song and dance in order to practise it. The major instrument used is the berimbau, a long curved instrument ressembling a bow and arrow (but without the arrow) and with a coconut attached to the bottom of it. It is quite common to see groups of young capoeiristas forming a circle and doing their thing, particularly in Bahia where its presence is very strong... I also ventured down to Itacaré for a weekend whilst in Bahia, a spot which had been recommended to me by various people. I went alone, and by bus. It was a bit of a journey down there, and in high-in-sight I should have probably gone there on my way up to Salvador (along with the hundreds of other beautiful places I would have loved to visit in Bahia). In any case, it was a trip worth doing and it was nice to travel with only minimal luggage for a change. Itacaré is a very small and tranquil city. In fact it is so small it feels more like a village. Located on the Costa do Cacau, there are plenty of beaches there in Itacaré and many of these are good for surfing. I found cheap accomodation right next to the beach - not so much a beach for swimming but very beautiful with lots of fishing boats, and the verandah of the pousada was a very pleasant spot for relaxing in the early evening and looking down over the street at general passers-by. There were plenty of nice beaches within walking distance of town - some very close, others a bit further. Prainha was particularly beautiful and I headed there on my first day but was stopped by some young guys who insisted that I wouldn´t be able to make it there by myself - that I would get lost in the undergrowth and would have to pay 20-30 reais to be accompanied by one or two of these "tour guides." So I went there the next day instead with my new friends Kathlena (an American studying Portuguese in Salvador) and Andrew (a semi-local, being half Brazilian half English). It took about half an hour to reach this beach by foot (as for the thick bush that we would have to deal with - well it was actually a well worn trail...) and the beach itself was really nice. We relaxed there for the afternoon, watching crabs intelligently constructing their little homes (holes) in the sand, swimming in the warm water, and discussing ideas for Kathlena´s upcoming essay on Brazilian cinema. Itacaré really was as beautiful as everyone had said it would be. It was a pity that I became ill there on my last night, in fact I was sick during my whole time in Bahia in one way or another which was very annoying but I have now moved north to Aracaju and I am not planning on moving anywhere else in a hurry, so the body should be able to recuperate fully...

Ouro Preto...

At least every uphill has a downhill on the other side... That´s what my dear Sophs would always reassure me when we were trekking in Patagonia. Well this theory certainly has to apply to Ouro Preto, or you´ll never make it up the steep cobbled streets of this beautiful colonial city in the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais! I took a night bus there from Rio, arriving at about 6 o´clock in the morning. The air-conditioning on the bus had left me shivering and my teeth chattering (Note to self: carry sleeping bag on board next time!) but on the other hand I guess this was also good preparation for the chilly temperatures I was about to experience in Ouro Preto itself! (The sun was constantly shining there though, so that was nice). After settling in a hostel, showering and digging out what winter woollies I could find, I then set off down the hill to discover the city and its 18th century colonial charm. Surrounded by mountains, Ouro Preto is a small city - well small enough that you can walk everywhere, and small enough that locals bump into each other on the street, or in one of the cosy little bars tucked in amongst the historical buildings. Ouro Preto was once the richest city in Brazil, and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. This city holds much historical significance, not only because it was rich in gold but also because it was home to the first major Brazilian movement or attempted rebellion against Portuguese rule. There is also a University in Ouro Preto, making for a very lively student atmosphere, especially at night, and the city is also apparently home to one of Brazil´s more memorable carnavals... Praça Tiradentes is the city´s main square (also named after the man who lead this failed attempt at independence), with numerous steep cobbled streets leading up to it. I found this city a little touristic, but very charming all the same. Much of the architectural charm of Ouro Preto has a lot to do with its various churches (there are over a dozen of these, although you come across them so often that it almost feels as if there were more). Many of these are perched on top of the various hills. The mostly baroque-style facades and beautifully painted ceilings inside were well worth seeing. All churches charged an entrance fee (for maintenance) and the only really annoying thing was the persistance of youngsters claiming to be guides (some of them were actually authentic although it was hard to know sometimes), and who would ramble on for quite a while about various historical points without really giving you a choice, and then expect you to pay them... Well I soon cottoned onto this (only reading afterwards that you should only take on guides accredited by certain authorities) and learnt to put my feelings aside and simply say no, or avoid eye contact. I did however let one of them lead me around one of the churches, supposedly the oldest in Ouro Preto and Brazil´s second richest in gold... At night the city´s churches were tastefully lit up (helpful when returning to my hostel located right near one) and which also made for a beautiful view by night down over the city, either from the roadside or from the hostel´s terrace. Having met some wonderful people working/staying at the pousada next door however, I ended up moving there for my second night in Ouro Preto where it was a bit more social. There I felt particularly at home, and I could think of fewer nicer places to sit and eat my breakfast than on their verandah overlooking the city´s rooftops... From Ouro Preto I also visited Mariana one afternoon - another smaller mining city also with a lot of beautiful 18th century colonial architecture, and only a few kilometres away from Ouro Preto. On the way I stopped at Mina da Passagem, claimed to be the world´s largest gold mine still open to visitors and from which around 35 tonnes of gold were extracted while it was in operation. A wooden trolley carries visitors more than 300m into the mine (and 120m deep) where you wander around a bit with a guide and also see a beautiful crystal clear natural lake formed underground. It was very interesting but I thought also a little over-priced considering the poor quality of the guide... well I later realized that my lack of satisfaction was due to my own stupidity - I had accidently joined a group of tourists whose guide I had assumed was part of the gold mine (but who actually had nothing to do with it), and the lovely yet timid local guides who usually take the tours let me tag along thinking that I knew what I was doing and were too shy to insist that I go with them... Quite funny looking back now. Anyway so after all that confusion I then hopped on the next bus and continued to Mariana, which, like Ouro Preto also had cobbled streets to explore - lined with lovely 18th century colonial houses. There I spent a very pleasant sunny afternoon...

RIO DE JANEIRO

"No mar estava escrita uma cidade..."

Carlos Drummond de Andrade
Rio de Janeiro has to be one of the world's most popular cities. Everybody raves about it. Everybody loves it. And so to finally get here, is actually quite surreal. Rio de Janeiro is famous for so many things - for its sweeping images of O Cristo Redentor - the famous Christ statue with arms outspread, watching over the city and gazing out towards the ocean... For its famous beaches - Copacabana and Ipanema in particular...For the inspiration of much Samba and the birth of Bossa Nova - two of Brazil's great music phenomenoms (and of course everybody knows of the song The Girl from Ipanema)... For its spectacular carnaval, which usually takes place around February and which draws crowds from all over the world every year, for which local samba schools start rehearsing months before in the lead up to this famous annual festival which combines shows, colourful parades, music, dancing, exclusive parties and general mayhem. For its giant soccer stadium, the Maracanã - one of the world's largest football stadiums, and quite rightly so, given that it belongs to the world's largest futebol nation. Before arriving in Rio, I started to get a little bit anxious about how safe this city would be. I had heard stories from travellers (and real stories - not just Chinese whispers) of armed muggings, theft from hostel lockers, credit card fraud, corrupt police, along with the various warnings in my guidebook such as "armed robberies" in certain parks, or that taking a taxi right to the main door of a particular museum would be the safest way to get there, or not to take valuables to such and such an area... So with all these images in mind (along with the perhaps more serious and violent ones constantly portrayed by the media), I couldn't really help but feel a little bit uneasy as the bus pulled into the station... Nati and I quickly chose one of the ladies desperately waving at us through their taxi company's office windows, hopped straight into a taxi, locked the doors, and spent the next 15 minutes or so trying to convince the taxi driver that we were actually Argentinean and not completely gringo (littled did we know, Brazilians don't actually like Argentineans), before arriving safely at our destination. Relief. Well I have since managed to relax a lot. I suppose the negative or violent incidents are usually those most emphasized, especially by the media - anything else would just be far too boring. In Rio I found that poverty was a lot more evident than in previous places I had been in Brazil. It was very much right in front of you in most places you went to. You passed a lot more people sleeping in the streets, had to dodge a lot more puddles of urine, and were approached a lot more (or nearly) by often dodgy characters. I did feel a little unsafe at times, even in daylight in particular areas (although not so unsafe that these places couldn´t be visited - just with enough of an unsafe feeling to be constantly on the alert). In some public places I didn´t feel like I could really sit and relax alone for long. But in general the local cariocas were very warm, friendly and helpful people, and Rio was a very lively place. Yellow taxis darted around the city, men would ride around on bicycles delivering trolley-loads of various things, and white vans would hoon past with young lads hanging out the window and offering (paid) rides - an alternative to buses. Rio is a very atmospheric place. To confirm their reputation, the males were a lot sleazier, which soon became very annoying. Most had learnt their little phrases or "compliments" in English, obviously due to the number of tourists around. I just pretended I didn't speak English. Our first couple of days were grey and dismal as it rained on and off. We decided to venture out in the rain anyway, and after trapsing around under my bright red umbrella I was starting to wonder if Rio really was as amazing as it had been made out to be. But once the sun came out and we were able to fully make the most of all this city has to offer, I soon realized that Rio is in fact a very special place. Seeing Rio from above really is one of the keys to appreciating why geographically, this city is unique in the world. From above, you can take in the bizarre yet fascinating arranagement of; curvy bays and various beaches, a string of islands spilling out into the ocean, large clusters of lego-like buildings nestled in between the many green morros (these are larger than hills, but smaller than mountains), and some of Rio's many favelas, or slums, most of which are tumbling down these morros. Such views are absolutely captivating. There are two main ways of getting a good glimpse of the city from above (besides hang-gliding, or riding in a helicopter). Firstly you have the Corcovado, the hill on top of which the Christ statue stands. This is not only a universal landmark, but a good way to orientate yourself when in the city. We had to wait for several days until the weather was good enough to make the most of this very touristy attraction. From the summit, you can see the Maracanã stadium out to one side, and other spectacular views of the city in the other direction. Unfortunately, the sheer number of tourists ruined this experience for me. I thought the train ride up to the top had been very much over-hyped. As for the "great views" that would be seen from the train that I had read about, there were only a couple of very brief glimpes of anything worth seeing (views that you would later see from the top anyway), and I never quite understood the significance of the giant, tacky, plastic animal figurines that were dotted throughout the "national park" on either side of the railway. Once at the top though, the views were very impressive, however being literally wedged in between all the other tourists with their arms outspread to imitate the statue made it almost impossible for me to relax and really enjoy my R$36,00 experience. As for the Christ statue - well to be perfectly honest I have found it far more effective when viewed from a distance - either its silhouette perched high on the hill against the setting sun, or with mysterious clouds drifting past it, or on television viewed from a helicopter from behind or above. It is probably Rio´s most famous symbol and is actually in the running for one of the new seven wonders of the world. As a statue viewed close-up however, I didn´t quite find it as architectually captivating as I thought I might. But anyway, that is just my personal opinion. Pão de Açúcar (commonly known in English as the Sugar Loaf) is the other main attraction enabling you to view Rio from above. I was much more satisfied with this one. There are two stages to the ascent which you make by cable car (or you can climb up it but to do that you need proper rock-climbing gear). Firstly you stop at Morro da Urca from where there are wonderful views of the city. Then, once you are ready, you can keep going right up to the top of the Sugar Loaf. From there you have even higher and incredible panoramic views of the city - enabling you to identify most of Rio's areas, with plenty of space to relax and look out towards the sparkling ocean and gaze in awe at the city's beauty as airplanes swoop down over the city, gliding past the Christ statue and flying almost below you before landing at one of Rio's airports. Nati and I were fortunate enough to be staying with Hélio (a friend of my father) and his lovely family, which meant a safe place to base ourselves and yet more of that wonderful Latin American hospitality - not to mention that local experience and language immersion that can make such a difference to one's experience in a city. Maria was the maid and such a character. With her contagious laugh and friendly personality, we had many an amusing moment with her in the house, as well as venturing out into the city with her on various occasions. Laranjeiras was our neighbourhood and there were regular buses passing through, meaning easy access to most parts of the city. Praia do Flamengo was the closest beach within walking distance, and the city´s centre could also be reached by foot. I found catching buses in Rio to be relatively straightforward. There seemed to be a constant flow of them, and although I had read and heard that this might not be the safest way to travel about town, I didn't encounter any problems, nor hear of any whilst there. The driver would always let you on the bus even if you arrived when the doors had closed and he was ready to drive off. If you asked the person you payed once on the bus for directions they would remember to let you know when your stop had arrived even half an hour into the journey. And the passenger sitting next to you would always be more than happy to help you locate your destination. The buses tended to zip around the city at lightening speed and at times I had significant trouble in keeping my balance. In fact Nati once took great pleasure in witnessing me fall over backwards in a crowded bus (I had failed to grab onto the handrail before the bus lurched into motion). There is also a metro system in Rio although I never once used it so I am not sure what it is like. Santa Teresa would have to be one of my favourite areas in Rio. You can catch a cute little tram (bondinho) which chugs its way over the Arcos da Lapa (the tall white arches which are another of the city's landmarks - signalling that you are in Lapa, an area known for its buzzing nightlife), and which then climbs its way up through the steep cobbled streets of Santa Teresa, a very interesting area with many characteristic 19th century houses. You pay less than one real to take the tram, or you can catch a free ride by clinging to the tram's sides which is what many of the young locals do - clambering on and leaping off at various points during the journey, giving the ride a very local and atmospheric touch. Natalia and I ventured up there one sunny day, and then the next time I went up alone I decided to stay on right until the end of the tram line, and from there wandered around the area before making my way back down on foot. Santa Teresa doesn't have the best reputation in terms of safety, mainly because it is surrounded by favelas. The area itself was very quiet and tranquil, but it was almost too quiet - this felt a little strange. I was tempted to venture a little bit further towards one of the favelas, but thought I better ask the advice of a local before my curiosity got the better of me... After using the toilet in a little bar, I asked the lady working there what she thought about me walking around alone. She told me the parts I should avoid, and warned me not to pull my camera out. So I took her advice. This area certainly has a lot of character. I also climbed to the top of an old partially restored building in the Parque das Ruinas, which offered quite a good view of the city. Unfortunately, many of the museums in Rio were on strike while I was there and could not be visited. Amongst some of the city's beautiful old architecture were: the Biblioteca Nacional (the national library - which is apparently worth a look although that too was closed because of the strike), the Museu Nacional de Belas Artes, the Universidade do Brasil (which Nati and I managed to sneak inside - ashamedly comparing it´s beauty to that of The University of Auckland!), and the Real Gabinente Portugues de Leitura - a fine old building with a beautiful old library housing rows and rows of ancient books right up to the ceiling. Then there was the Teatro Municipal, which I loved. You could only enter it on one of the afternoon guided tours in Portuguese, so I tagged along on one of these (I have found my international student ID card to be particularly handy in Brazil for getting into these sorts of places for only half the price). Our guide was absolutely fantastic, and from her I learnt more about Rio´s history than from anywhere else. Inaugurated in 1909, and during a time of significant urban development in Rio in an attempt to create a "Paris Tropical," this theatre was built to imitate the Ópera in Paris. From the entrance, to the ceilings, to the staircase, to the restaurant (which now only functions as a bar), this building was absolutely beautiful inside (as well as being very impressive from the outside). We were also able to catch a brief glimpse of a ballet rehearsal that was taking place while we where there. It was definitely a worthwhile visit. The Pavilhão Mourisco was another beautiful old building - its construction dating back to the early 1990s. With it´s beautifully ornate and detailed moorish architecture and ancient library, this impressive castle stands in an interesting area a bit further out of the city, surrounded by favelas. From the top of this building are fascinating views. I was taken there by Hélio whose workplace was right next to it. The Jardim Botánico was another very worthwhile attraction in Rio. I had read and heard about these Botanical Gardens, so I made my way there one afternoon, managing to fit this visit in before getting absolutely drenched in the rain whilst making my way back home. These large gardens were fantastic. They had different areas corresponding to different geophraphical environments, and it was a lovely place to spend a quiet afternoon strolling about at a leisurely pace. I was told I might spot toucans in the Amazônia section although I didn´t see any, however i did almost have the priviledge of being urinated on from above by a couple of cheeky monkeys, who then proceeded to try and knock me unconscious with a falling coconut. Lucky for me, I happened to be looking up at the time and saw it coming. Cheeky buggers!! The gardeners of course found this highly amusing. There are also a number of parks in Rio, some of which you were advised not to walk through alone, and my favourite being Praça Paris, although the tall and elegant white bird who always seemed to hang out there would never let me get close enough for a decent photo. Apparently, the reason why Rio has so many parks, squares and significant buildings is because it was once the country´s capital for quite a number of years. Near this Praça Paris that I was talking about, lives Maria the maid (on weekends), and on Sundays there is a great market right outside her doorstep - Feira da Glória. Maria took us there one Sunday afternoon to try some more Brazilian edible treats, like tapioca (apparently eaten a lot in the North of Brazil) which we tried with ham and cheese, condensed milk, and coconut (seperately) and caldo de cana, a juice made from sugar cane, although we were too full from the tapioca to eat pastel which apparently goes very well with a cup of caldo de cana on the side. Açaí is another of my new local culinary friends. Also typical of the North of Brazil, açaí is a fruit that is native to the Amazon and is consumed a lot having being turned into a dark red pulp and then mixed in a blender like a smoothie and served chilled in various ways - often in a tigela (large bowl - this makes for a delicious breakfast) along with chopped banana, granola (cereal) and honey, or simply in a plastic cup mixed with guaraná and cereal blended in. This makes for a nice texture. I am addicted. It is very tasty and refreshing though, and all of Rio´s juice bars seem to sell it at a very reasonable price. Rio is of course also famous for its beach culture. Copacabana is the one we all know of, however I liked Ipanema. Those images of skimpy bikinis and beach volleyball, are true. You can purchase your coconut on the beach and sip on its chilled água de coco or you can wait for one of the barefooted vendors to walk past you with a chilly bin, calling out their various offerings. For those females who can´t bear to get their bottoms sandy, you can also hire a foldup chair. To be honest I have never really been a big fan of tall buildings and busy roads right next to the beach, however it was great to have the ocean handy. On Sundays, the main roads lining the beach are closed off so that people are then free to ride bicyles, wander around the markets, or buy food from the many street vendors. This makes for a very positive weekend atmosphere (when the weather is good). There was also a pavillion set up there on the sand (although I think temporarily) - drawing crowds of people to the beach for a concert by Ivete Sangalo, a famous singer from Bahia, and then a week later a concert by the Brazilian Symphony Orchestra which I was wanting to see, although the rain soon destroyed any hope of that. I enjoyed sitting on Ipanema beach, or wandering along it. I didn´t actually make it into the water during my time in Rio though, as the weather was very unstable and it was wasn´t always warm enough for swimming. There was one spot in particular where you could walk on some rocks and look back across Ipanema towards the Dois Irmãos, two hilly peaks at the other end of the beach. This was a particularly nice thing to do at sunset. Unfortunately, due to pollution, not all the beaches in Rio are clean enough for swimming. The beach at Botafogo was one in particular. Although a nice place to chill out for a bit, it was so smelly that after a few minutes sitting there on our way home one evening, Nati and I actually had to get up and leave. Flamengo was another beach I quite liked. It was a bit more low-key and closer to where we were staying which meant you could walk there. Praia Vermelha was a small little beach located at the foot of Pão de Açucar. Nati and I also spent an afternoon relaxing there after taking a cable car up to the top of the hill. Although Copacabana is the beach we all know of, this area doesn´t usually appear to be a popular one when in search of nightlife. On Friday nights, Lapa is definitely the place to be. Located near the famous white arches (the Arcos da Lapa) rows and rows of bars feature live music (mostly samba or pagode, although when Nati and I went out there one night we also noticed there was the popular funk along with other styles), and these streets become absolutely packed with people - a fantastic and lively atmosphere. Many people gather on the crowded streets, purchasing drinks from the many street vendors, while others enter some of the huge selection of bars. Another little bar that was quite good was one we went to with Maria and her husband and in-laws, in Glória, virtually right next-door to where she lived. There they had live samba and pagode and it was very much "the local bar on the street corner," where food and drinks were also very cheap.

My stay in Rio also happened to coincide with a football match at the Maracanã stadium (Actually it wasn´t going to coincide so that is one of the reasons I decided to stay a bit longer in Rio). After trying to think of someone to go with, Maria came up with the bright idea of getting her husband and nephew to accompany me, as her husband in particular is a strong Vasco supporter (the teams playing were Fluminense - one of Rio´s more exclusive clubs, and Vasco da Gama), and it would also be their first time at the stadium. I had heard that tickets were sold much cheaper at the clubs a day before the match, so Maria and I went along to Fluminense´s club which was just walking distance from the house, and then off we went the three of us on Sunday evening to see the match. Unfortunately, due to a weekend of rain, the turnout wasn´t so good and so the stadium wasn´t nearly as full as I had expected. The atmosphere was however still there - being there with a full stadium must be something else! The Vasco supporters were much more dedicated (in spirit, noise and numbers) while the Fluminense turnout was pitiful. So we sat on the Vasco side and not being from Rio myself, I chose my team accordingly. The teams drew, and despite the lack of spectators it was definitely still worth getting there. Seeing a stadium (and especially one of the world´s largest) is always best experienced when there is actually a game going on! The fireworks let off inside the stadium certainly wouldn´t be allowed in Auckland's Eden Park though, and the lack of streakers was apparently normal for Brazilian football matches...?! Visiting a favela was another thing I had wanted to do whilst in Rio. Although I despise the idea of "favela tourism" (it really does make me cringe), those who are interested in really learning a bit more about favelas can be taken, quite safely, inside one. You pay money of course, and quite a lot, although at least with the company Nati and I went with, the majority of that money actually goes towards a school programme operating within one of the favelas that we visited. We were really satisfied with the guide that we had - Andrés, an Argentinean who had a very good rapport with the locals. The fact that he had been living in one of Rio's smaller favelas for the past seven years I think also made a difference. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't actually worried about my safety before entering the favela, as I had heard of several people I knew entering in this way before. After viewing the film The City of God, a favela is likely to be the last place you would ever wish to enter. The film offers a very effective, yet incredibly violent portrayal of favela life - one that may have been true several decades ago. However, although poverty sadly does often lead to desperate means involving delinquency and violence, those are not the only realities within these poorer communities. Although drug-dealing is a well-known source of income within many of these favelas (although not all of them - and there are over 700 favelas in Rio), and sadly children are often drawn into this cycle at a very young age since it tends to be the easiest way to earn money, the majority of these favela dwellers are actually honest working people who go to work every day to support their families. The violence and crime that goes on in Rio isn't only committed by those living in favelas. Although drug-dealing is undoubtedly a major cause of much of the violence that goes on in Rio, it is apparently the druglords who also maintain law and order inside these favelas. Stealing from one another, for example, is not tolerated. Locals have much more faith in the druglords than the police in terms of trust, respect, and dealing with any problems or needs that arise, although it isn't exactly a very promising career - most druglords do not live past the age of 30 as they are usually either locked away in prison or shot dead. I was a bit worried as to how I would be perceived by the locals as I stepped out of a van with a handful of other tourists on this "favela tour." Would it seem insensitive and intruding? Would the locals be resentful of the fact that life was not nearly as likely to be so difficult for me? Well the locals were actually very friendly and receptive of our visit. The children especially, were very excited. I was a bit hesitant to take photos as I wondered if this too might cause offense - these people are humans too, and I didn't want them to feel like I was taking advantage of their situation as a touristic experience. But Andrés told us when and where we could and couldn't take photos - not because there was any danger of our cameras being stolen, but because the druglords simply didn't like having their photos taken. If it weren't for the adorable little kids tugging at me and shouting "tira fotos, tira fotos!" and then squealing in delight when I showed them the end result, I probably wouldn't have taken any at all. Ever since studying a little bit about favelas and Brazilian society in a Latin American film paper at University, I have been very curious about favelas - one of the major examples, especially in Rio, of economic imbalance within Brazilian society, with Brazil being one of the world's most extreme examples of uneven wealth distribution. I had always intended on visiting a favela in Rio - a decision I made nearly two years before coming here. I had received mixed reactions from Brazilian friends of mine - some said that under no circumstances was I to enter one and that I would be risking my life, and others had said that if they were in Brazil when I was here, they would be willing to take me inside one. In Chile I had read a newspaper article that offered two opinions on the concept of entering favelas. One perspective maintained that entering a favela could give a person a greater understanding of life inside, and the other claimed that you didn't actually need to enter one to understand that they exist. Well in a sense this is true. There are so many favelas in Rio that you are constantly catching glimpses of them from the bus window, or when looking up towards certain morros or down certain streets, or when viewing Rio from the Corcovado, high above the city. We all know they exist. But at the same time, I do think personally that people are more likely to have a predominantly negative image of favelas if they haven't been inside one. We first visited Rocinha, Rio's largest favela with over 200,000 inhabitants. In the van on the way there, Andrés gave us a historical overview of favelas and explained how and why they became the slums they are today. After entering Rocinha, we got out of the van and talked to some of the artists selling their work on the street. Two of the artists in particular, about my age or perhaps younger, were both very lovely and talented guys. You could see the desperation in their eyes at wanting to make at least one sale that day. We were then driven further into the favela, winding our way down through the narrow streets (usually only room for one vehicle at a time), where we stopped and entered a building and climbed up some stairs to reach an outdoor area that offered a view looking down over the rest of the favela and its huge and chaotic arrangement of tiny, mainly brick houses. We then walked down one of the main streets. This is where we were told not to use our cameras. The atmosphere here was great - energetic and full of life. Just like being on a normal busy street. There were people wandering around and going about their daily business, or grabbing a drink, or a bite to eat. There were motorcyle taxis waiting to transport people up the narrow streets, and children playing together... It was simply like being in a poor neighbourhood. I am not pretending that everything is rosy red inside these favelas, but it certainly did not feel like an unsafe place to be. At the very bottom of this street we encountered the gorgeous little kids I mentioned before. One of the boys had learnt the word "money" in English and didn't waste any time at all in asking us for some. However Andrés soon pulled him aside, knelt down, and explained to the little boy the importance of working to earn a living. We were then driven to Vila Canoas, another much smaller favela with around 3,000 inhabitants. Drug dealing is not present in this particular favela. Here there is also the small school/community centre "Para ti," sponsored partly by the company that had taken us there, and which had been set up as a safe place for children to spend some productive time before or after school. After visiting the school, we then wandered through part of the favela, up and down through the rabbit warren of narrow alleyways right in amongst the small houses. There we were greeted by locals as we passed, and we faced another stampede of children, also wanting their photos taken. I was torn between wanting to see how these people lived - to interact with them and at least try to gain a better understanding of their situation, and not wanting to seem like a tourist in their neighbourhood. As for the American lady sitting next to me in the van who was more interested in playing sudoku than even looking out the window, well I am not entirely sure what her reasons were for being there. Then there was the English photographer claiming to be working on an "art project" for favela tourism. He was most disappointed to learn that it wouldn't be such a good idea to return to a favela alone with his camera. And as for the photos that he took featuring us in them, I hate to think what they will be used for. I am imagining huge billboards in London saying: "Visit a favela now...!" I sincerely hope this is not the case. I guess we can all comment (either negatively, positively or without bias) as much as we like, but let´s face it, those who really know the reality of living inside a favela - be it a druglord, a child, a teenager, a mother.... are those who actually inhabit them. This particular afternoon certainly made for a very interesting and enlightening experience all the same. I have no regrets...As fascinating as Rio was, after two weeks there (which had flown by) I was also starting to feel ready to leave, and anxious to make my way up to the North-east of Brazil as there is so much to discover there and I know time will definitely pass by too quickly once there... Nati left for Uruguay after we had been in Rio for a week, so I am now a lone traveller... Ouro Preto is next (actually I arrived there this morning - it is freezing cold here - my toes are numb as I write this) so I will will pack the bikini away for the meantime and update when I get a chance.