In my last post I said I would write the final Brazil post on the plane journey home, didn't I? Obviously this didn't happen. It wasn't a case of me slacking, promise. It's just what happens when you and your hubby have a recent UFC event to discuss, and the sight of a UFC fighter at the airport and the film 'Warrior' on the plane movie listings get you a bit too juiced up to type. But it's actually a good thing I didn't because I left South America feeling philosophical and waxing lyrical about the meaning of life, and when I told Imran that this would be the tone of my post, his smile said "That's fine, dear" but his eyes said "Bore off."
Anyway, luckily for you, the English winter has frozen my brain cells so I can't think too deeply. But I also can't be outside for more than 30 seconds for fear of my teeth falling out due to the impact of chattering; therefore I have nothing else to do except write this post. So let's get on with it. And for once I'll try to make it quick (odds are not in my favour so bets against me succeeding are safer. Keyboard diarrhoea, and all that.)
After our amazing week in the Amazon rainforest we went to the state of Bahia in the northeast of Brazil. This was it: the final stop on our journey, and we just wanted to dance and lie on a beach. Salvador and its nearby island Morro De Sao Paulo fit the bill. We'd heard a lot about the nightlife and party culture in Salvador so had told friends to join us out here - nobody did and it was lucky they didn't because we actually found there was nothing to do. The 'nightlife' in the Pelourinho district was more a case of locals simply standing in the cobbled streets 'til late, drinking Caipirinhas while loud music blared out from speakers in open cafes. Fun, atmospheric and great to be part of, but certainly not 'partying' in the sense that we were expecting. Saying that, there may well have been a great clubbing culture in the Lower City but we didn't go there; we were told to avoid it and stay in the Pelourinho as there was a 99% chance we'd be mugged. Now I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like a favourable statistic to me. Upon reflection, I'm not sure these scare stories were entirely accurate and if they were, I learned a lot about the local life to understand why this was the case. In order for you to understand, you need to know about the history of Salvador. Lucky you: it's Fun Fact time! (I'm well aware some people may consider FF time to be BB - bloody boring - but it's what you have to put up with when this blog is written by a GG: Geeky Gal.)
Salvador is the largest city in the northeast of Brazil and was the very first colonial capital in the country. This is the place where the first slaves from Africa were taken and sold. Indeed, there is a street called Largo do Pelourinho where slave auctions took place and the Pelourinho word itself translates as "whipping post." Brazil was the last country to abolish slavery ('slavery' as the historical event that we know it; obviously slavery in a variety of forms existed before this and still exists in the present day) and the state of Bahia alone traded twice as many slaves as the United States.
I find African history extremely interesting. That's thanks to my amazing legend of a GCSE English teacher who noticed my keen interest in our exam study book "Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry" and told me to read "Roots" and "The Bluest Eye" during my summer holidays. (See? GEEK.) There have been many major atrocities in the world, there are plenty more happening in the present age, and the English have a pretty shameful past when it comes to colonial brutality. But slavery in the form of human beings taken from Africa is up there amongst the very worst and there is no place that forces you to confront its reality in the New World better than the Afro-Brazilian culture capital that is Salvador.
Slavery was an act that went on for centuries and the far-reaching impact is often unconsidered. Hundreds of years of inexcusable treatment, torture, and belittling; hundreds of years of brainwashing, dehumanising and discouraging marriage between slaves and the creation of a nuclear family unit; hundreds of years of denying a people a shared ancestry and unity: all of these combined create insecurity, angry resentment and self-fulfilling prophecies that simply exacerbate certain negative images our world holds. In the modern day, throw all this into the melting pot with the common effects of economic hardship in a materialistic world, fewer educational attainments and a high incidence of broken families and you'll have a bit more understanding of the chain-reaction effects of slavery. While it may be correct to say that self-sabotage in communities influences the world’s perception of others and individuals need to take responsibility for their own future without laying all blame on this abhorrent history, it's equally as valid to point out that slavery ended in relatively recent times: only 100+ so years ago; a third of the time for which the slave trade existed. It is said by historians and academics that, after just one generation of suppression, a fear and inferiority "settles in the genes" and becomes the root of all issues - it requires a good few hundred years to get rid of it. This is even more difficult when people within a community with a massively conflicted identity are killing each other and using old slave insults such as the n-word in today's world where opportunities are institutionally lacking for them anyway. It’s most simply and eloquently explained by this quote that I read: “A neighbour beat a man over the head for several hundred years and stopped. The abused was brainwashed to beat himself and has been doing it for 50 years, and his oppressor tells him that he should stop the stupidity when he himself could not do it for hundreds of years.” There can be no respect from others without self-respect first.
And that's where Salvador comes in.
Salvador is a city with a thriving African culture, a beautiful blend of African heritage and Brazilian tradition. Here the local people - nearly all of them African descendants - keep alive old religions like Candomble as well as classic forms of dress and music. They show how sweet fusion can be when they celebrate these conventions at the same time as living by the inherently Brazilian traits of 'laid backness' and believing life is too short not to have fun. Salvador has been informally named 'The Land of Happiness' and for the reasons mentioned above I would wholeheartedly disagree with this. But it is most definitely the land of buoyancy and resilience. No doubt the 'Land of Happiness' label was created amidst blissful ignorance by people who didn't scratch below the cultural surface. The same people probably, who, just like me and Imran, didn't really venture outside the safety of the Pelourinho where hoardes of tourist police ensure visitors are treated like Gods. We found out after our visit that the rest of Salvador epitomises poverty; that local people endured forced removal from the Pelourinho (or Pelo) to make way for tourists and now live in severe poverty on the city's periphery. Tourists 99% likely to get mugged in other parts of the city? I can see why and I can't really blame them.
Let's up the tone of this post a bit now, shall we? I think I'm depressing myself just by writing it; I'd hate to be the one reading it! All positive stuff from here on, right?
Tuesday night is the big party night in Salvador and when we arrived at midnight, there were food stalls in the main square and people dancing to live bands and socialising everywhere. We walked around the Pelo and found the streets were cobbled, steep and lined by very colourful houses. In the daytime the pockets of deprivation were more visible but the personality of the people was stamped everywhere regardless. We saw a large amount of fantastic artwork. My favourite was this one which I obviously had a very deep interpretation of but it's not one to which you need to be subjected. Not all the artwork is directly related to slavery: much of it also depicts Brazilan wildlife, Bahian dancing and the Afro-Brazilian martial art Capoeira. We met one artist who painted pictures of nothing but women's nude backsides! He obviously had a great appreciation for this body part. He "likes big butts and he cannot lie; you other brothers can’t deny…"
The biggest attraction is a church named 'Igreja Sao Francisco' which we didn't think would be anything special relative to all the other spectacular churches we'd seen in South America thus far. But it was actually very impressive as the whole interior is bathed in gold leaf and covered in gilt. Aside from this church and the Afro-Brazilian museum dedicated to ancient African religions, there was a food museum dedicated to the famous Bahian cuisine (I obviously visited this) but that was it. Those were all the sights. Fine with us as the sights in which we're most interested in any place are the local people going about their daily business, and Salvador has character in abundance.
Every evening, just before sunset, throngs of people take to the streets to drink beer and Caipirinhas, catch up with their mates or practise a bit of Capoeira. Groups of men all around the Pelo drag old plastic tables and chairs out onto the bumpy roads, all of them wearing fedoras, and sit for hours playing games like Dominos and Draughts. We watched one game of Draughts that was played using the caps from plastic bottles and a friendly English-speaking guy told us the old man playing was unbeaten for 30 years. Imran was very tempted to challenge him but they were playing according to some unknown rules so he decided against it! We danced along with the citizens in the middle of the avenues to the many random bands that appear out of nowhere just to add a soundtrack to the vibrant atmosphere - drum bands in Brazil are always awesome anyway but we particularly liked the group of teenagers with trumpets and saxophones who played traditional music mixed with Lady Gaga tracks!
We tried to go to a Samba class but should have remembered where we were: if a class is advertised to take place at a certain time and day, don't expect it to happen on time in easy-going Brazil… in fact, don't expect it to happen at all! So no Samba for us. We did, however, go to a Capoeira show and it was by far the BEST quality of Capoeira we've ever seen. These guys were incredible. In the world of MMA (mixed martial arts, for non-UFC fans) Capoeira is considered a bit of a joke because it combines the skilful combat techniques with dance. Some UFC fans don't think such rhythm makes for a very manly martial art. But let me tell you, the guys we saw at this show could kick anyone's arse without batting an eyelid and then happily cartwheel away while their opponent lay in a sobbing heap on the floor.
The national dish of Salvador is the 'moqueca.' This is a seafood stew where all the ingredients are cooked in one big pot: onions, garlic, tomatoes, fresh coriander, peppers, seafood and coconut milk. I had one which was absolutely beautiful but after my visit to the Food Museum I found that palm oil is the most important ingredient (and masses of it, too) so I stopped eating it as nobody could tell me if the palm oil was from sustainable rainforest sources or not. But the good thing was the moqueca that I did have was the best in the entire Pelo so at least I didn't miss out by not having any more!
As fantastic as all this was, it wasn't really enough to fill up four days and hyper Imran was starting to get really bored. He needed to be entertained. The answer lay in Caipirinhas (which he doesn't realise actually means I'm the one about to be entertained by his drunken antics!) But luckily for his liver, our visit to Salvador was timed perfectly (albeit accidentally) because the second Thursday in January is the annual celebration of the Lavagem do Bonfim. It's the second biggest celebration in Salvador after Carnival but it's pretty much the same thing without costumes. The festival is, most simply, a celebration of the syncretism between Catholicism and African religions. Wherever you are in the city, you'll be awoken at 8am sharp by the sound of drums as the faithful get ready for mass at a church in the Lower City. Women dress in traditional outfits consisting of turbans and large round skirts and lead a flower-filled procession through the city for 4 miles to reach the Bonfim Church. The church steps are washed and thousands of ribbons are tied to the gates. These ribbons represent wishes people have made. Many people tie them onto others' wrists with three knots; as each knot is tied the person makes a wish for their future. The ribbons cannot be removed - you must allow them to naturally come off over time and when they do, that’s when your wishes come true. My ribbon has already come off and 2 of the wishes did come true.. but I don't know if praying twice for Jose Aldo to win his next UFC fight was really getting into the right spirit of things! My other wish was that Bruce Willis would one day smack my arse and tell me he's "just a love machine" but I haven't experienced that one yet.
We went down the city's huge 'Elevator' to the celebrations at around 10am and the streets outside of the Modelo Market were already heaving with partygoers. Everybody wears white and slowly follows the parade of musical floats all the way to the church. It generally takes all day as there are frequent stops (every 30 seconds) to dance and eat the street food. It's a non-stop shindig with beer, Caipirinhas, skewers of barbecued meats and chunks of fresh sugar cane being consumed by the bucket. We were prepared to be showered with beer by jolly drunks and to snack and dance but it was so unbearably hot and crowded that we couldn't face the thought of going all the way to the church and back, so we sat and watched the people having a rambunctious time instead. It was a great festival and we were certainly glad to be part of it but I don't think I could ever do Carnival in Brazil. It's just sheer madness and - dare I say it? - is bordering on boring for me personally, as I can't stand around in massive crowds watching people boogie on floats (with no room to dance myself) for more than a couple of hours before thinking: 'Anything else to do now?' Perhaps I need to drink like Imran does and I'll find time passes by a bit quicker!
Taking a vomit-inducing three-hour boat ride from Salvador, we arrived on the little island of Morro de Sao Paulo. It was pouring with rain when we got there but it still looked beautiful. The place is tiny with just one long street of bars, restaurants, shops and hotels all along the beach. Cars are forbidden (there’s not enough room for them anyhow) and people carry suitcases around the island in wheelbarrows. The ocean is a dizzying variety of blue shades with patches of lush green forest and palm trees breaking up the coastline. EVERY single man here wears speedos. Imran felt uncomfortable being a solo minority and I wondered if I could manage to convince him to get some purely for my own entertainment. (He didn’t. Damn it.) We spent most of our first day visiting all the bars to ask if they were showing the UFC event that was on TV that night. We thought it'd be easy to find somewhere as the event was actually taking place live in Rio de Janeiro but no, nobody seemed to have any interest. What was wrong with these people?! Brazilian people love mixed martial arts more than anyone else on the planet alongside the Japanese - hell, they even invented some of the arts! Dejected, we headed back to our hotel and whaddya know, we passed a little kiosk tucked away behind the main street and saw old UFC events being shown on the screen. "Are you showing tonight's UFC event?" we asked, holding our breaths with anticipation. The owner, an Italian named Alessandro, looked at us as if it would be a crime to NOT show it. My kinda guy. "Of course," he replied and then had to run and hide in the kitchen as we screamed and bear-hugged him. So forget the beach: our first night was as fantastic as it could've been as we watched UFC Rio until 4am in a bar packed with other fans so fervid they made us look indifferent and uninterested.
Although happy to relax on a beach for four days, we needed some kind of activity during the days but there was only surfing. There was really no point booking any lessons, though; it was highly unlikely anyone would turn up to teach us! We did go to the hill at the top of the island from where we threw ourselves off a platform and zoomed down on a zip line and landed amongst the frolicking people in the sea. That was fun and fulfilled a childhood dream to pretend we’re contestants in the old Gladiators show doing the Eliminator.
The evenings are the best times in MSP and the island is known for its ‘nightlife.’ It’s a ‘touristy’ island in the sense that people come here for a holiday rather than living here. But it’s not touristy when you consider how few foreigners come here; on the contrary, the majority of visitors are other Brazilians and everything is tailored towards helping and pleasing them. Finding people who speak English is a difficult task – even in hotels - but who cares in such beautiful surroundings? All we cared about was knowing the Portuguese for our most important and frequently used phrases: “Can you make me a fresh smoothie, please? Thanks, duck.” As the sun sets, the beach comes alive with people playing football, folleyball and walking on tightropes (random, I know.) We sat on the beach watching a group of guys playing foot volley in teams of two. At first we were astounded at how aggressive they all were, yelling and screaming at one another (teammates included) with spit flying from their mouths. We knew Brazilians were passionate about their sport but this was something else! Perhaps it was because they were playing tournaments for money. Perhaps it was because they were madly competitive. Perhaps the players just happened to all be douche bags. We weren’t sure. One guy on the sideline shouted something and another responded equally vocally. Suddenly, the yelling escalated and these two guys charged towards one another, bellowing with animated fervour. Imran and I stared at each other, eyes wide with horror because it looked like a severe beating was about to be handed out to one of them. They got closer and closer and… shook hands. What?! Then they hugged. The whole time they were still barking at one another and continued to do so as they walked away. Turned out that they were only saying hello but their passion for the game combined with their militant-sounding Portuguese accents meant they sounded like they were fighting. Genius.
Literally on our last day in MSP, we ran out of money. We’d used up the last of the cash we had, all of the cash machines on the island were out of order and the independent restaurants and bars wouldn’t take card. For the very first time on this trip, we had to watch the pennies like backpackers instead of flashpackers and had to choose between eating and drinking. What did we spend our last dollars on? Smoothies, of course. But with Malibu thrown in. Food in a glass with a buzz: perfect!
As darkness fell people ate their dinners on the beach edge while locals with wheelbarrows full of alcohol and fruit set up stalls by the ocean. These are the 'bars' that all line together to make a border around the 'nightclub' - essentially just a patch of beach. A DJ played Brazilian music with a few American pop songs thrown in every so often and everybody was happily having fun. It was the most chilled out and simultaneously lively party we've been to in South America. We walked along the shoreline in the warm early hours, stopping to write 'Amber & Imran South America 2011-2012' in the sand. We lay down on this and stared up at the stars just talking for ages about our trip. Yes, it was cheesy, romantic and VERY unlike us but it was as perfect an end to our whole trip as we could've hoped for. Everything was ok. Everything was good. We were happy. We were looking forward to going home to see our friends and family. We'd had the best experience of our life... and the greatest thing was, we weren’t even halfway through.
Goodbye, South America. You rocked our world.
