I just arrived in South Africa yesterday (Easter Sunday, although I didn't realize it was a holiday weekend until I was told that the airport had no flights from Uberlândia to Saõ Paulo and there were only limited buses due to the holiday weekend...eek!). My three day journey to get here included a ten hour bus ride to Saõ Paulo, a 14 hour wait in Guarulhos airport, a ten hour flight to Washington, D.C. followed by a 45 minute puddle jump to New York, another 8 hour layover followed by a 17 hour plane ride to Johannesburg. Did I mention that Johannesburg is only 8 hours away from Saõ Paulo? I took the scenic route!
It feels as though I am starting a whole new journey now. I was starting to feel comfortable in Brasil--I was learning Portuguese quickly, making good friends, and starting to get into the Brasilian state of mind--perpetually happy and laaaaiiiiiidback! I was bound to leave eventually...already I was itching to head to Argentina (which, mind you I never did! I couldn't pull myself away from Uberlândia and my adopted family!), but so long as I was in South America, it seemed so familiar and easy. There was only a long bus ride or two and I could be back to any number of places I now consider home. Crossing an ocean was the best push to get me to keep going and get back in the "where to next?" mode.
But I've been feeling a bit more lost lately. Instead of growing outwardly and being spontaneous and outgoing as usual, I've grown inward and felt fairly shy. I have to admit, I would even blush when people would speak to me in Uberlândia. I have no clue why! It wasn't as if I were actually embarassed! I think I just got nervous that they were speaking to me in Portuguese and I was expected to respond in kind. Perhaps it was also a touch of self consciousness about being the only gringa around. I am still confused about my travels so far and have been desperately trying to put everything together and make some beautiful profound prose about the person I am now or the way the world has revealed itself to me. Alas, I am speechless! And worse, I am almost truly speechless--I've nearly lost my command over the English language and continue to think in Spanish-Portuguese.
I am staying at my Aunt Linda's house in Pretoria now for a little regrouping and planning before hitting the road again. She is spoiling me, as usual, and I am going to shamelessly enjoy every second of it, including the endless supply of sweets and wine and the cable access. Hopefully I'll have some more fotos to post from Brasil soon (they are still coming in!), and I'll write as soon as I have some interesting stories from South Africa. Tchau!
Monday, 24 March 2008
some fotos as promised long ago...
At my own private cachoeira in Ublerlândia
Gabriel, Wendel and me putting our shoes back on after a quick dip
Eder, Flaviane and eu at the lake place
Rafael and me on the dock
A vaca on the family fazendaWednesday, 12 March 2008
I´m drunk on Uberlândia
I was wrong about Uberlândia. While the city isn´t all that interesting and quite like any city with a small center of highrises surounded by shopping malls and suburbs, the countryside is intoxicating.
I´m posting some pictures with this post since I have some now for the first time (Sidenote: For the first time on my trip I´ve really wished I had a camera here in Uberlândia. I had an itch to have one in Buzios to try to capture what it was like to hike through the jungle to a beautiful slice of pristine white beach. Here, though, I´ve realized how convenient it would be to just have my own camera to capture all the memories of people and places instead of having to beg the friends I make along the way to send them. So, while other Bonderman travelers are pushing themselves to not go to touristy places or travel on tight budgets, I am challenging myself to not take photos. Hmmm..)
I tried to take a few photos on the way into my friends´ family farm, but none that I took could capture the romance of the setting. The farm reminded me a lot of being a kid again--making forts in haystacks, the magic of untouched forests, the musky smell of horses and manure, chickens pecking away--but seemed even richer than any childhood memories I have. Here in Brasil, a farm means long sunburnt red roads cutting through perfect green hills that both roll and steeply tumble into fields of corn and cow pastures. The soil here is heavy and wet, so that everything has a slightly ripe smell as if it were being digested.
The family farm that we visited had a very magical feeling about it. Abacate (avocado), laranja (orange), goiaba (guava) and coffee plants grew wildly all over. The afternoon sun hung low and created curious shadows. The only thing that reminded me I was, indeed, on my friends´ family farm and not in a movie were the two GIANT pitbulls, named Bruce and Sadan, who tore through the place chasing tires and flinging slobber.
The trip to the family farm is only part of the reason I can´t seem to tear myself away from this normal place. The friends I am staying with have taken me to the lake to jet ski and play in the sun and to a private farm with a series of cachoeiras (waterfalls) on the property that they allow folks to visit. We basically played in our own waterfalls all day.
I suppose you get the picture, and if not, I´ve included a few along with this post. I am still trying to figure out how I can convince myself to leave this place, especially since I now have friends in Buenos Aires who are hoping I come. My last chance to make it to Buenos Aires is today, though, so I´ll keep you posted on my whereabouts!
I´m posting some pictures with this post since I have some now for the first time (Sidenote: For the first time on my trip I´ve really wished I had a camera here in Uberlândia. I had an itch to have one in Buzios to try to capture what it was like to hike through the jungle to a beautiful slice of pristine white beach. Here, though, I´ve realized how convenient it would be to just have my own camera to capture all the memories of people and places instead of having to beg the friends I make along the way to send them. So, while other Bonderman travelers are pushing themselves to not go to touristy places or travel on tight budgets, I am challenging myself to not take photos. Hmmm..)
I tried to take a few photos on the way into my friends´ family farm, but none that I took could capture the romance of the setting. The farm reminded me a lot of being a kid again--making forts in haystacks, the magic of untouched forests, the musky smell of horses and manure, chickens pecking away--but seemed even richer than any childhood memories I have. Here in Brasil, a farm means long sunburnt red roads cutting through perfect green hills that both roll and steeply tumble into fields of corn and cow pastures. The soil here is heavy and wet, so that everything has a slightly ripe smell as if it were being digested.
The family farm that we visited had a very magical feeling about it. Abacate (avocado), laranja (orange), goiaba (guava) and coffee plants grew wildly all over. The afternoon sun hung low and created curious shadows. The only thing that reminded me I was, indeed, on my friends´ family farm and not in a movie were the two GIANT pitbulls, named Bruce and Sadan, who tore through the place chasing tires and flinging slobber.
The trip to the family farm is only part of the reason I can´t seem to tear myself away from this normal place. The friends I am staying with have taken me to the lake to jet ski and play in the sun and to a private farm with a series of cachoeiras (waterfalls) on the property that they allow folks to visit. We basically played in our own waterfalls all day.
I suppose you get the picture, and if not, I´ve included a few along with this post. I am still trying to figure out how I can convince myself to leave this place, especially since I now have friends in Buenos Aires who are hoping I come. My last chance to make it to Buenos Aires is today, though, so I´ll keep you posted on my whereabouts!
Wednesday, 5 March 2008
Uberlandia here I come!
I managed to stay one week in Rio de Janeiro and do nothing. No visits to the famous Corcovado, Pao do Azucar nor Santa Teresa. I didn´t even go out to any of the notorious samba clubs in Lapa. I managed to make it to Ipanema beach every day, though. And buy a skimpier bikini. And get very very dark brown. And get a crazy new haircut from an Argentine that makes me look like one of those old school Mobile action figures.
I also ran to the famous stadium, Maracana, with a crazy middle aged Israeli man from my hostel to purchase tickets off a scalper for the Rio Championship Futbol Cup between Flamengo and Botafoga. We didn´t sit with the thousands of fanatics that match (and by fanatics I mean beer-throwing, firework-laden, screaming, stomping FANS!), but the second futbol game I went to between Flamengo (who, by the way, won the Rio Championship) and some other team I definitely sat with the fanatics and it was definitely crazier!
By the time I left Rio, I didn´t mind it so much, but then again I didn´t really do all that much in Rio besides lay on the beach all day and go to futbol games.
After a week, I was ready to move on and headed to Buzios and Arraial do Cabo east of Rio de Janeiro for a little R&R. I managed to meet another Argentine who soundly convinced me I should come visit Buenos Aires for one week and he would make sure I had an authentic, sincere and memorable visit, including true Tango, Churriasco and a list of wines to try...hmmm...sounds like my kind of city. Plus his sister is brilliant and studies social politics at FLAXO with other brilliant minded persons. So I won´t be passing up this opportunity!
After a few days more of baking myself on some of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen and getting fed up with rich Brasilian tourists that flock to Buzios, I decided to head to Uberlandia to visit friends.
Which is where I am at now. I am starting to feel a little harried from all the LONG bus rides and too-quick visits to places. I like taking it slow and getting to know places, especially after you´ve been on a bus for the past 15 hours cramped next to a burly snoring Brasilian. Uberlandia is quite normy--that is normal, non-touristy, on the verge of boring--and a good rest from the travel circuit. I´ll be meeting all the friends and family of my friends before going camping at some nearby water falls for a night. Then, if I can muster the will, I will head to Iguazu Falls on the border between Argentina and Brasil (about 30 hours by bus) before a last hurrah in Buenos Aires. Oumph. I am tired!
I also ran to the famous stadium, Maracana, with a crazy middle aged Israeli man from my hostel to purchase tickets off a scalper for the Rio Championship Futbol Cup between Flamengo and Botafoga. We didn´t sit with the thousands of fanatics that match (and by fanatics I mean beer-throwing, firework-laden, screaming, stomping FANS!), but the second futbol game I went to between Flamengo (who, by the way, won the Rio Championship) and some other team I definitely sat with the fanatics and it was definitely crazier!
By the time I left Rio, I didn´t mind it so much, but then again I didn´t really do all that much in Rio besides lay on the beach all day and go to futbol games.
After a week, I was ready to move on and headed to Buzios and Arraial do Cabo east of Rio de Janeiro for a little R&R. I managed to meet another Argentine who soundly convinced me I should come visit Buenos Aires for one week and he would make sure I had an authentic, sincere and memorable visit, including true Tango, Churriasco and a list of wines to try...hmmm...sounds like my kind of city. Plus his sister is brilliant and studies social politics at FLAXO with other brilliant minded persons. So I won´t be passing up this opportunity!
After a few days more of baking myself on some of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen and getting fed up with rich Brasilian tourists that flock to Buzios, I decided to head to Uberlandia to visit friends.
Which is where I am at now. I am starting to feel a little harried from all the LONG bus rides and too-quick visits to places. I like taking it slow and getting to know places, especially after you´ve been on a bus for the past 15 hours cramped next to a burly snoring Brasilian. Uberlandia is quite normy--that is normal, non-touristy, on the verge of boring--and a good rest from the travel circuit. I´ll be meeting all the friends and family of my friends before going camping at some nearby water falls for a night. Then, if I can muster the will, I will head to Iguazu Falls on the border between Argentina and Brasil (about 30 hours by bus) before a last hurrah in Buenos Aires. Oumph. I am tired!
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