Well, Maya came in clutch and found me a place to stay. 300 reals for a week, Ipanema, two blocks from the beach and one block from the Metro station, and right where a huuuge bloco started yesterday night, breakfast included. What a great deal for me...a bed in a dorm hostel with 5 other people would be like $500 US. Its cruelty here now for rooms, but theres some shining souls. My remarkable good karma continues on this trip.
I forgot to explain the other instance. I lost my wallet on a bus. Just kind of stood up and it mutinied and stayed on the seat. I realized as soon as the doors closed. I had just pulled out a lot of Reals, figuring its better that way since the ATMs rob you blind. Bad luck, I guess, over 300 US. Shit. Next day, after I cancelled my ATM card, someone calls. They found my wallet and want to return it. Wait, am I still in South America? Really? Are you sure?
Ok, theres no money in it, they jsut want to give a traveller back their ID, I think.
I meet up with them later, and all the money is there. What luck! Amazing! I will pass on the favor, i promise the world.
Strangely, my international phone card is the only thing missing. Weird, i think. But who cares!
Life is beautiful...
Anyway, a huge bloco started a block from my house, transvestites came out of the woodwork (oh right, its Ipanema) with crazy Brazilians and tourists to get sprayed by foam and streamers and covered in glitter and sweat and excitement. French maid costumes, men wearing dresses (even the straight men), beer and meat skewers, and thousands and thousands of people in the streets following the drums and music, dancing, loving, screaming, laughing
and having a ball.
Just think, the whole city is like this. Miles and miles of drunk happy people comandeering the streets and all the alcoholic beverages and shiny things they can muster.
What a great event. Let´s make regular life like this! Cmon guys, lets bring more bubbles, more glitter, more excitement into the world on a daily basis. No more suits and briefcases hurrying to your job, DON A MASK and save the world from corporate corruption through SIN and MAYHEM!
haha and thats the word we live by...
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Fazenda
The farm, or fazenda, as the Portuguese call it, is situated outside the city of Mogi das Cruzes, near Sao Paulo. The farm is off of a pothole ridden dirt road, often completely muddy due to the monsoon rains that strike nearly daily and send torrential waves of rain down on Brazil. On the muddy days, and sometimes the not so muddy ones depending on the driver, the bus doesnt come here.
The farm is focused on building permaculture, there are no crops yet. We have built a compost, seed planters, we fixed doors on for the front and back doors, and mesh for the moscas, the flies on the windows. The house is simple at best, but at least there is light, hot water for the shower, and an angering and tempermental internet connection.
A big fierce black dog named Delicado (Delicate) prowls the house and farm, and a smaller brown dog named Laika just gave birth to seven (!) puppies, 5 girls and 2 boys. There is a cute black and white kitten, a horse who sticks his head in through the kitchen window above the sink to much whatever you~re cooking (until we fixed the mesh), and a strange small blonde dog named MalMal (maomao), which means bad-bad, after a card game the people were playing when they first saw him at the farm. He generally lurks in the garage far away from the house, and you only see him running away with his head turned back to look at you. Slowly, he has gotten more and more comfortable with the people at the farm, and not sometimes will make raids on the food lying around the kitchen or beds, until someone sees him, then he runs out of the room and disappears into the vapor.
The work is hard but rewarding, and the days either incredibly hot or full of torrential thunderstorms.
The food is simple and vegetarian, a lot of rice and beans and lentils...tons of tomatoes, some avocados, mangoes, papayas, goyabas, and other obscure fruits. But its all quite delicious.
The farm is focused on building permaculture, there are no crops yet. We have built a compost, seed planters, we fixed doors on for the front and back doors, and mesh for the moscas, the flies on the windows. The house is simple at best, but at least there is light, hot water for the shower, and an angering and tempermental internet connection.
A big fierce black dog named Delicado (Delicate) prowls the house and farm, and a smaller brown dog named Laika just gave birth to seven (!) puppies, 5 girls and 2 boys. There is a cute black and white kitten, a horse who sticks his head in through the kitchen window above the sink to much whatever you~re cooking (until we fixed the mesh), and a strange small blonde dog named MalMal (maomao), which means bad-bad, after a card game the people were playing when they first saw him at the farm. He generally lurks in the garage far away from the house, and you only see him running away with his head turned back to look at you. Slowly, he has gotten more and more comfortable with the people at the farm, and not sometimes will make raids on the food lying around the kitchen or beds, until someone sees him, then he runs out of the room and disappears into the vapor.
The work is hard but rewarding, and the days either incredibly hot or full of torrential thunderstorms.
The food is simple and vegetarian, a lot of rice and beans and lentils...tons of tomatoes, some avocados, mangoes, papayas, goyabas, and other obscure fruits. But its all quite delicious.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
The Farm
Tomorrow I am off to the relaxing farm gig I have worked out. Some longer-term and far cheaper peace and quiet away from the city life I live most of the time and have been visiting. The owners seem very friendly, and we will see what the first encounter brings, but I have tranquility on the mind, and lots of sweat to come yet.
Brasil!
Well, its been a few days, but after narrowly missing another $500 flight-credit bump, I arrived in Rio.
The streets smell of a bizarre concotion of flowers, warm wet tropical air, some strange scents of vague foodstuffs and meats, and the subtlty of a guava. Its hard to describe, but it is unforgettable.
Rio is certainly a more modern city than any Ive yet seen in South America, with bustling shoreline skyscrapers and modern supermarkets and storefronts, a far cry from the ragtag copious amounts of street vendors clamoring for your attention in La Paz, and to a lesser degree, Peru. Walking down the streets of Copacabana, you are in a first-world country, and the money reeks everywhere.
Life here is far too expensive for me to stay long, a room in a hostel bunkbed with 6 others costs about $20 US a night, much more than the $4-5 in Lima and Cuzco, and the $2-3 in Bolivia. Needless to say, I wont be here much longer...for now.
Strolling the beaches of Ipanema, you can suckle the tender kisses of a fresh coconut, hacked open with a machete with a straw inside. You can attack the waves, the warm water will tease your senses and the surf will toss you around playfully, but rigorously. It is certain, you could easily fall in love with this place, until the ticking reminders of your wallet come back to the forefront of your consciousness.
Palm trees and sharp cliffy mountains are the scenery, Samba and funk is the soundtrack, and the food is barbecue and fresh juice, a recipe for well-being in a city that swallows you up into the warm tropic belly of a dangerous beast.
The streets smell of a bizarre concotion of flowers, warm wet tropical air, some strange scents of vague foodstuffs and meats, and the subtlty of a guava. Its hard to describe, but it is unforgettable.
Rio is certainly a more modern city than any Ive yet seen in South America, with bustling shoreline skyscrapers and modern supermarkets and storefronts, a far cry from the ragtag copious amounts of street vendors clamoring for your attention in La Paz, and to a lesser degree, Peru. Walking down the streets of Copacabana, you are in a first-world country, and the money reeks everywhere.
Life here is far too expensive for me to stay long, a room in a hostel bunkbed with 6 others costs about $20 US a night, much more than the $4-5 in Lima and Cuzco, and the $2-3 in Bolivia. Needless to say, I wont be here much longer...for now.
Strolling the beaches of Ipanema, you can suckle the tender kisses of a fresh coconut, hacked open with a machete with a straw inside. You can attack the waves, the warm water will tease your senses and the surf will toss you around playfully, but rigorously. It is certain, you could easily fall in love with this place, until the ticking reminders of your wallet come back to the forefront of your consciousness.
Palm trees and sharp cliffy mountains are the scenery, Samba and funk is the soundtrack, and the food is barbecue and fresh juice, a recipe for well-being in a city that swallows you up into the warm tropic belly of a dangerous beast.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Barranco, Lima
Barranco, Lima, is the artsy not quite as elaborate version of Miraflores. The buildings resonate different colors, orange, pink, blue, green, and the streets are quaint but clean.
Where Miraflores is opulence and condos, Barranco is cute and colorful. Perfect!
The beach in Lima is the whackest shit Ive ever seen. Small, next to a highway, and very unimpressive. Luckily, tomorrow I fly to the best beaches in the world...Rio de Janeiro!! Its going to be beyond all dreams...
Now Im on my way to Chinatown, Lima to see how they do, then some great ceviche and a cerveza.
Where Miraflores is opulence and condos, Barranco is cute and colorful. Perfect!
The beach in Lima is the whackest shit Ive ever seen. Small, next to a highway, and very unimpressive. Luckily, tomorrow I fly to the best beaches in the world...Rio de Janeiro!! Its going to be beyond all dreams...
Now Im on my way to Chinatown, Lima to see how they do, then some great ceviche and a cerveza.
Rosario
Rosario was an incredible guy. A typical looking family man who was more of a genie, really.
We walked down the train tracks to Aguas Calientes, and he was like, go ahead, Ill catch up with you all. We walked and walked, and partway through he just walked past us, and was waiting for us at the end when we got there. We told him we were going to leave at 4am, and to meet us at the main square in Aguas Calientes. In the morning, about 430 am and we couldnt find him in the square, so we started to hike up the massive staircase to Machu Picchu. It was quite dark, but somewhere along the walk he appeared and casually fell in stride with us, and nobody saw where he came from.
Once at the top, he announced he couldnt get in because he didnt have his papers. We were sad, but told him we would catch back up with him on the way back. We then went in and walked towards Wayanu Picchu, our group in the first 400 of the day.
Then, walking through Machu Picchu, Rosalio magically appeared. He claimed, I had a friend. Haha, what a gangster.
But he said he couldnt go up Wayanu Picchu, he was too late to get through. We sighed, but we´d meet him back at Machu Picchu.
We started walking, and he once again walked out of a bush to join us. Another friend, I guess. Peruvians take care of their own.
We explored MP and everything, and then stayed the night. The next day, Rosario was already waiting at the car for us, and we drove all the way to Cusco. Perfect!
We walked down the train tracks to Aguas Calientes, and he was like, go ahead, Ill catch up with you all. We walked and walked, and partway through he just walked past us, and was waiting for us at the end when we got there. We told him we were going to leave at 4am, and to meet us at the main square in Aguas Calientes. In the morning, about 430 am and we couldnt find him in the square, so we started to hike up the massive staircase to Machu Picchu. It was quite dark, but somewhere along the walk he appeared and casually fell in stride with us, and nobody saw where he came from.
Once at the top, he announced he couldnt get in because he didnt have his papers. We were sad, but told him we would catch back up with him on the way back. We then went in and walked towards Wayanu Picchu, our group in the first 400 of the day.
Then, walking through Machu Picchu, Rosalio magically appeared. He claimed, I had a friend. Haha, what a gangster.
But he said he couldnt go up Wayanu Picchu, he was too late to get through. We sighed, but we´d meet him back at Machu Picchu.
We started walking, and he once again walked out of a bush to join us. Another friend, I guess. Peruvians take care of their own.
We explored MP and everything, and then stayed the night. The next day, Rosario was already waiting at the car for us, and we drove all the way to Cusco. Perfect!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Cusco and the Sacred Valley
I stayed in Cuzco for one quick night, the headed out on a whim with far too little clothing for Machu Picchu. One night was an ordeal, staying in Ollantaytambo, but I found a group of 9 Brazilian guys, and we all banded together (they were two groups of 5 and 4), and saw the amazing ruins there. We were trying to make it to Aguas Calientes, the town right by Machu Picchu, that night, but the transport is purposefully difficult unless you want to bank out.
The next day we commissioned a driver to take us, Rosario, all the way there, the 6 hours bumpy, windy mountain drive. We staayed in Aguas CAlientes, the most overpriced, foul city in Peru.
The next morning we marched up the hundreds of steps for an hour to get up to the city, and were in of the first 400 to get there, so we could climb wayana picchu, the mountain overlooking M.P. That took another hour of climbing, then an hour back tdown and to a cave and more ruins (not MP), then another hour to MP, and finaly after four hours of climbing and hiking we could explore the mystical ´lost ´ city. It was beyond all expectations, and awe inspiring.
They import llamas for asthetic value. They werent there when we first arrived, but later in the afternoon, there were about a dozen llamas. Hilarious...
Now I am in Cusco again, saw some more ruins, cool places, and am off to Lima on the 24 hour bus...YAY! haha what a long trip. Oh well...
The next day we commissioned a driver to take us, Rosario, all the way there, the 6 hours bumpy, windy mountain drive. We staayed in Aguas CAlientes, the most overpriced, foul city in Peru.
The next morning we marched up the hundreds of steps for an hour to get up to the city, and were in of the first 400 to get there, so we could climb wayana picchu, the mountain overlooking M.P. That took another hour of climbing, then an hour back tdown and to a cave and more ruins (not MP), then another hour to MP, and finaly after four hours of climbing and hiking we could explore the mystical ´lost ´ city. It was beyond all expectations, and awe inspiring.
They import llamas for asthetic value. They werent there when we first arrived, but later in the afternoon, there were about a dozen llamas. Hilarious...
Now I am in Cusco again, saw some more ruins, cool places, and am off to Lima on the 24 hour bus...YAY! haha what a long trip. Oh well...
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