Brazilian Extras

As I folded my notepad last night after writing my paper and posting it to my blog, I noticed two things. First, there were so many little things I wanted to tell everyone that I didn’t get to write about. That’s what I’m doing now. Second, my notepad was covered in the yellowish hydrogen peroxide substance I touched after machete man cut open a tree for me. Authentic souvenir.

First, let me start by saying there are not enough descriptive words in the English language to label the men in Brazil. Creeper just doesn’t cut it. These men were lumpier than expected. Sweaty. Balding. And if not balding, sporting a mullet. They were either sleeping in a chair next to their stand of souvenirs, which included normal trinkets and then objects such as tricycle wheels and medical scissors, drinking giant vases of beer that included little spouts for easy pouring access (it was 10 am), or checking us out, which occurred most often. And when they checked us out, there was no such thing as sly. They followed you with their eyes, and their heads turned all the way around to watch you disappear. I now know what it’s like to be pregnant, because I carried my backpack on my front the entire time we walked the streets.

You know how, in the States, you see people come outside at gas stations and change the numbers on the giant price sign? Clear, plastic numbers that sometimes get put upside down on accident? Well, here they have gas signs. Except I saw a man washing it like you brush your teeth. He used a giant broom and a little bucket of water. Their signs better be clean if they’re going to charge the equivalent of $8 per gallon. It’s the least they can do.

I wanted to emphasize how wonderful it was to visit with a family in their home on our Amazon trekking day. There was the dad, Damien. The one who took us hiking through the jungle armed with a machete. Maria, the mom. Who prepared a wonderful meal while we explored. So much flavor in all the right ways. And the children. Two girls and a boy. Friendly and happy to have company. Adventurous and daring in the jungle. The boy walked around with no shoes, flipping like a ninja over logs. He told us, or rather Juan, our tour guide, translated that he used their pet monkey Nico as a toy. He would pick it up, swing it around by the tail, and launch it. No wonder Nico screamed whenever the boy came too close.

Damien whacked anything with his machete he could reach. But always for a purpose. Being the line leader, he was feeding me little pieces of I-don’t-know-what and rubbing plants all over my hands. One I ate and he told me I was protected from Malaria forever. I must’ve misunderstood him. The other girls in our group were squirming over the bugs and snakes and creepy crawlies in the forest. When they took the little canoes out from the houseboat after lunch (one person paddled and one baled out water with a plate), Damien began yelling “Anaconda! Anaconda!” as soon as they were our of safety’s reach. He was too funny, but the girls didn’t think so. Which made it all the funnier when he caught some catfish in a canoe he spontaneously pulled out of the bottom of the river and gave them to us to throw at our stressed out friends.

Our last stop in Brazil before boarding the ship was a store we called CVS. Maybe a long lost relative. They had everything you needed, but all we wanted was Brazilian chocolate. So many different kinds we couldn’t choose from because we couldn’t read the wrappers. It was a giant guessing game and free-for-all. Most people returned to the ship with a bag of goodies. I don’t know how much longer I can pace myself. It’s a mini battle in my mind. Save it? Enjoy it? I’m going to cave in soon.

Today was laundry day. In my sink. You should see the room now. Underwear are hanging from the ceiling to dry, because I ran out of corners on pictures frames, drawers, and lights. They also outline the window. It really adds a nice touch, makes things feel homier. Rene, our steward, is going to freak out tomorrow morning.

I set my alarm this morning for 6:30… pm. Missed running and paid the price. People are exercising like it’s New Years. The sun rises at 6:34 tomorrow morning, so hopefully I can find out how to work my alarm. I have to reset my clock every night because it ticks too fast, and it’s always three minutes ahead by the end of the day. Something fishy is going on.

Speaking of fish, have you noticed the fish on the bottom of my page? If you click in their tank, it feeds them! I thought it was appropriate.