Sao Paulo

After Carnaval I had a couple more days in Rio to relax and recover as well as visit the large Christ statue on the top of the mountain. I then headed to Sao Paulo, the largest city in Brasil.

I stayed with a friend of a friend Gustavo, an artsy hipster Peruvian living and working in SP. He and his friends spend their time filming and painting and wearing trending cloths and other artsy hipster things I don’t know about; but it was a interesting peak into what that lifestyle looks like.

If Rio is southern California, then Sampa in New York; where people work really hard all day and go out to trendy Expensive restaurants, bars, and clubs all night. The weirder the decorations on the walls (ie. Pot lids, ribbon designs, naked people) and the more expensive a place is the cooler. At least this is the side of the city I saw.

So that’s what we did. During the day when people were working I went to the Museum of Futebol, which was really well done (and artsy) and explored the city center. I must say I did not love Sao Paulo. It is big and hard to navigate to the point were if you ask directions not even the locals have a clue which way is up. I also felt less safe there where Rio I always felt very comfortable. At night I would go out with Gustavo and his friends and act as trendy as I know how…

One funny thing about these adventures is that Gustavo never really bothered to learn Portuguese. He gets by comfortably with his Spanish, throwing in Portuguese words here and there. While this made it harder for me to progress with my language skills, I still had his friends, who echoed the joke that I spoke better Portuguese after one week in brasil than he does after 2 years!

Brazil: Carnaval

Oh man what a time. It feels very hard to describe everything that is going on so I have been putting it off leading to even more anxiety about filling you all in! So I'm just gonna start and if I have to double back or get lost so be it!

First rio de janeiro and carnaval.

Carnaval in rio is a party. There are parties all over the city all through the day and of course all night. Most older and sophisticated locals flee the city to near by beaches for some peace and quiet but those who are up for it can hardly wait to get out of work. the city is flooded with foreigners but also brazilians from all over the country.

The first part of carnaval is the blocos. These are big street parties, some start at 9 in the morning while others and 6 but they are mostly a day thing. These are live bands that play on top of big trucks paneled with speakers. They usually play the same song or two over and over again, and each bloco band has its own tunes. For example a band in the neighborhood Ipanema will have a lyrics complementing the barrio and the people who live there. This band is accompanied by the bateria which is a drum line that matches in front of or behind the truck. This is the best part. I realize I have always wanted to be a part of a drum section so I got to work on that but the rhythms are complex and fun. Then everyone else just fills in ever crack possible within earshot of the band. The best (and most crowded) spot it right by the bateria, but to be perfectly honest you cant do all the blocos there, you will go deaf and crazy. So we would change it up.

In Santa Teresa we were right in the mix. It was our first bloco so at 3 in the afternoon we got right next to the bateria and fought to stay there almost the whole time. People wear all kinds of crazy costumes too that match those of the bloco theme. Santa Teresa gets its name from a convent that was there so there where many "nuns" about. It's also on a hill overlooking the beautiful city!

Ipanema is one of the older bands and goes right along the beach so we would weave in and out of the crowd starting with the bateria then falling behind to take a dip in the ocean or drink the water from a coconut and then jump back into the mess. These caravans move very slowly and last forever so to go a block can take an hour minimum. They also have sacole which are frozen caipirinha Popsicles that are sold along with beer and water by vendors along the sides and pushing though the crowd.

One of the coolest ones was the Beatles Bloco in a huge park. Not only did they cover some of the greats with portuguese accents but they also made up Portuguese words to obladi oblada. It was like they missed the repetitiveness of the more traditional bloco and couldnt help but put a song on repeat some of the time. There were so many people at this bloco that it couldn't even move. The truck just stayed still in the center.

At night there were huge balls but they cost money so we didn't go. There is Lapa which is the main drag where people go out and other parties spring up in different parks with live music and dancing. So we would just wander around and find something fun!

There is also the big parade where the samba schools show off their stuff. There are many schools that are for different neighborhoods and each has thousands of members. They spent the year picking a theme and finishing their extravagant costumes. We went one night to the sambadrome which is a long road with stadium seating. The groups go down the center to a special song they write each year as the crowd cheers them on. We went on the cheaper night with "not as good schools" ( like we could tell the difference) but much better seats. The costumes are amazing with shinnies and fathers and props. It's funny though cause on the way home you would see people carrying their costumes on the subway and it was all clearly home constructed out of Micheals Craft Store stuff. Pretty cool.

So ya it went like that 5 days of non stop.

Steel Pan Band

After living here for a couple months I have settled in and become quite comfortable with the everyday work and visits to town. I’m pretty good at navigating the country, as well as the culture. I still find myself a little confused sometimes, but all in all I have made a home and life here.

Partly because of this, I am finding less to write about. Things seem more normal and the stories less worthy of telling. While we are still going on adventures and meeting new people, it’s all just life.

We have a very efficient group which means lots of time off and lots more vacation. This also means spending more money and doing less Portuguese and productive stuff but when is the next time I will be in Trinidad!?!?!

We went back to Tobago for almost a week, which was great. Got to see Dr. P again and stay at his place. Went SCUBA diving on a beautiful reef with some friends and saw all kinds of cool creatures. One highlight was Sunday School.

Sunday School, as described in the guidebook, is not for the pious. It is a big party on Sunday nights in a little town. It is basically what normally happens on Sunday nights around here but they gave it a name so they could attract and overcharge tourists. They did have a steel pan band and it was the first live one I have seen here (They don’t really play until after Christmas when people are really gearing up for carnival). It was made up of young musicians who were enjoying playing as much as we enjoyed listening.

We were traveling with a couple of locals, one of whom is a dance instructor, so we spent much of the evening learning to dance to calypso while the older sailboat tourists looked on. Some of the older, gentlemanly regulars could really cut a rug and would go around the circle looking for willing partners. Most would nervously shrug them off as they glanced at their significant others but we were all partner-less. I can best describe it as salsa with some swing but it is energetic with lots of twirls (which is always fun) and easy to do with a good lead. As it got later and the band finished up and blaring Soca ushered in a younger crowd.

My new friend Marta made this night what it was. She is a masters student from Spain who lived with us for a bit and came along to Tobago and other adventures as well. Long after everyone else had gotten board or gone to bed she and I were still dancing, laughing, and practicing my Spanish!

SATURDAY NIGHT

SATURDAY NIGHT

In the middle of the recap we take a day of to go to the beach and dry out our feet to avoid fungus. It is also an important mental break to keep us motivated. This time we all piled into the truck and went to Toco on the North East tip of the island. We stayed with Auntie Patsy, an older Trinidadian woman who wore relatively see through moo moos and sported a decent beard. She was a strong lady and an entrepreneur, juggling a number a businesses including providing all the sea moss to nestle for a popular drink and running this boarding house/hostel. She cooked all our meals for us with the main (read as only) ingredient being homemade BBQ sauce and would read us random disjointed snippets from the morning paper as we ate.

The beach was beautiful! Whats new… white sand beaches, coral reefs, coconut trees you know the drill by now. But we did meet some locals on the beach who were celebrating a graduation from the masters program at UWI (University of the West Indies). They were mostly biologists too and it was interesting to hear more about the research they were doing on the island. They invited us over for a poolside BBQ. We were excited to get to lime with some locals and soon found out it was even more than we had hoped for. They were staying at an estate owned by the biggest Soca star of Trinidad.

We arrived to find a huge house with a deck equipped with many loud speakers blastin music and an infinity pool over looking the valley. There was a large grill filled with chicken and ribs being cooked by the house chef who danced along to the tunes as he re-applied BBQ sauce. There was another building with a pool table on the bottom story and an open porch on top with a kitchen, hammocks and a bar. There was yet another building with another deck with a hot tub. It was the spot! You can try and imagine the 8 of us rolling into this place a little worst for wear from the recap and the beach and thinking we had fallen into a music video. But without all the nasty stuff that comes along with the nice house. Everyone was really well educated and interested in what we were doing there and our future plans as biologists. It was a very different crowd from the regulars in Arima and a refreshing look at a different side of Trinidad.

Even more exciting, one of the guys there lived in Brasil for 4 years so I got to practice my blossoming Portuguese with him! He had even been to my town, Mossoro, and gave me a few local words from that area. It was very exciting.

And don’t worry, we made it home before Auntie Pasty got too worried.

WET

WET

I have gotten much better at being wet. Growing up in Tucson very little of the time I was wet and if you happened to get soaked, it never lasted long, evaporating in minutes usually giving you a necessary cooling off.

Claremont was not much different. When there was water around I often did everything in my power to stay dry, suffering teasing from my heartier north western friends, joking about my rain boots and 1^st rain jacket at age 20.

Here I spend almost all of my time soggy. If its not traipsing through the stream or using your butt to block the fast moving water so that you can see into the pool or riffle then it’s the rain. And since it’s the rainy season there is plenty of it. We have spent an hour or 2 just standing in the rain waiting for it to stop so we can go back to fishing. We watch as the water rises and we pray that it doesn’t get too murky, forcing us to return the next day to finish the job. We are on constant watch for flash floods when working that would threaten to wash all out bottled fish away. By the end of the day our finger tips are always pruney and our feet pasty white (as one girl said, like a cadaver!). Even beach day can be a rainy affair.

It took some getting used to. Some adjustments I made were bringing a rain jacket. Not to stay dry because it makes you sweat enough to soak your clothes anyway, but it creates a warm sauna feel inside. I also have what I call Post Fieldpants Pants, or dry shorts in the truck waiting for when I get back to the top. They help avoid crotch rot and make the ride home much more enjoyable.

Who would have thought it of the desert rat from Tucson but some of my favorite moments have been when I was hiking in the rain and stopped to hear the thousand drops hitting layers of leaves all the way down to the floor. You can feel it soaking your hair and beads rolling across your brow, ever growing and gathering speed as they traverse down your check. The bugs disappear and it smells fresh and clean and cool. The wet is growing on me.

Justin’s Place

Justin’s Place

For our couple days off, we decided to go back into “Da Bush” on a hike to the north coast. After finishing up our chores of cleaning the house, running errands around town, and of course the game, we packed up our backpacks and headed out on the 12 mile trail down to the ocean.

We left from Brasso Seco, a little town not far from here where our boss lives. I went with Meredith, and the two newer interns John and Jen, and our cool manager Brian and his girlfriend Brie. We met Max and Lev who had set out a day ahead of us down there. The hike was beautiful. It was a much easier and nicer trail than the ones we use to get to the work streams, and we took our time looking at butterflies, fungus and the landscape. Imagine how long it takes a bunch of science nerds to get down a mountain through a jungle of cool stuff… a long time.

It was about 8 miles down to a beautiful Paria Waterfall where we took a relaxing swim. Then we set out along the coast, weaving down to the beach and then up through the jungle to the next beautiful bay. All along the sandy beaches there were little huts up on the shore where people were living. Each shanty was built out of wood and bamboo from the area and sheet metal brought in on boats I suppose. They were inhabited by mostly older rasta men who clearly all knew each other and had created their own community out there. There were men with boats and they carried people and good, helping everyone out in trade for things like fruit.

We made it to Justin’s place just in time for a dip in the ocean before dark. Justin is an old man who is one of the few remaining descendents of the native Karina tribe. He has lived on the north coast for 19 years and when asked if he would be there in a few years he responded, “boy, I gonna die here.” He had built a number of little shelters next to his own, which he lets people come and stay in. Mostly it is other friends and family from around Trinidad but the project made a connection with him in the past and so we know and visit him every couple months. He spends his time cleaning up around his land, collecting fruit and cooking while singing to loudly playing Reggae. In fact the music was on constantly, I figure it keeps him from getting lonely.

We spent two nights at Justin’s and they were very relaxing. The ocean was rough and it rained off and on so we spent most of our time on his kitchen/porch chatting playing cards and reflecting. I am very bad at doing nothing but it was a great place for me because it forced me to slow down and stay still. He made delicious jungle pot dishes out of things that he had and that we had brought, combinations you would not image to taste good together but were delicious!

After a couple nights we arranged for one of his friends to pick us up in a boat and take us along the coast to the nearest town. We were to rendezvous at 9 in the morning at one of the points that jutted out into the ocean. He couldn’t come into the beach because the seas were too high. We got up, thanked Justin and headed out. Through large jesters with the two men on the boat we realized that we were to creep out along a rocky cliff, dodging waves and time our drop into the boat with our packs on. Ready for some adventure we went one by one all clearing the lurching hull of the boat and only getting a little wet. It was very exciting. There was no real danger.

In town we found a little guest house to stay in where we could take a shower and nurse the many sand fly bites we had sustained at Justin’s rustic retreat. We spend a day on this beautiful beach that had just enough breeze to keep the bugs off and plenty of sun to dry out our soggy bodies and clothes. We found a friendly local women who had lived in PA for many years who offered to make us lunch AND dinner. It was delicious and just what we needed. We checked out the local Rec Club to see what the Saturday night life was like. We found many people of many ages drinking Carib and Stag beers chatting over blaring popular Soca tunes such as whistle song (ttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dga-mQOg8LY). I chatted with some of the younger people around and soaked up the cultural experience. I learned about where they went to school and what they were planning to do with their lives. It was a fun night as the older folks left us youngins to dance late into the night.

We had another day on the beach before we got a maxi to drive us home back to the other side of the mountains where we would soon begin work again.

Divali

Divali

I was very excited to find out that the Hindu holiday was on the 26^th of October, My Birthday! I recently found out that it actually falls on the new moon so it is not always on my birthday But this year YES!

It is a holiday of light when families remain at their homes to invite in friends and strangers. Those who celebrate the holiday at home do not eat meat and neither do those who visit them. Small, inviting oil candles called deyas are lit all over the houses. There are normally fireworks, but they are not allowed this year, so we had plenty of sparklers or starlights!

For 2 weeks leading up to the night of the 26^th there is a large festival on the west side of the island with food, crafts, and entertainment every night. When talking to our host dad Mahais, he offered to take us down there to check it out one night. So we all piled into his Maxi Taxi with him and his daughter and headed down south.

It was a large fair set up for the occasion with booths and a large stage. We hit the food first, sampling a little bit of everything and learning the names and ingredients from Mahais. It was most like Indian food but with a West Indian twist, using tropical ingredients that you can only get here like dasheen bush. We washed it down with a number of fresh juices: paw paw (papaya), barbadine, cane juice, and guava.

I then got a beautiful henna tattoo to match with Ruhini, the daughter who has grown attached to me. We cruised the shops with beautiful clothing for the holiday, bags and small crafts mostly imported from India. Then the show was starting so we found seats and watched a number of different acts. There was dancing and musical groups, but my favorite part was the play about one of the legions related to the holiday put on by a bunch of kids. There was waving to parents in the audience, there was stumbling to the correct location and the occasional yawn. Great!

It was a very relaxing environment with people of all ages and none of the stresses and leering of Arima. All in all a very pleasant evening.

On the night of the 26^th my friends made me dinner and a cake! And then we headed down to the other house to celebrate with our hosts. The entire property was lit up with deyas on structures built out of bamboo and metal. We all played with sparklers and noise making poppers while others set up the bamboo to be busted! Bustin’ the Bamboo is an activity that accompanies most celebrations here. It involves a large piece of bamboo, about 5 segments with the dividers knocked out except for the bottom one. Near this you put a small hole where you pour in the Kerosene. This is then lit and blown out in a rhythmic way to great large blasts that sound like cannon fire. We didn’t get a great piece of bamboo so the explosions quickly split it.

Without our own to bust we set out into Temple Village, the little Hindu cluster of houses across the street. The entire hillside was lit up with the deyas all along porches and rooflines and lining driveways. We found some young men showing off their bustin’ skills and people watching and chatting. Kids ran everywhere throwing poppers at each other’s feet and holding the burning sticks (never really realized why my mom was so concerned when we would play with them when we were young… now I get it).

A main theme of the celebration is inviting people into your home and offering them little bags of sweet dough and fruits. I was sharing my starlights with some little boys who pulled me up the hill to their house were there dad offered me one of the treats of the celebration. I talked with their family for a while soaking in the twinkling lights, the smell of sparklers and new company. It was an amazing birthday and a holiday, which I plan to celebrate in the coming years.