So, I did say I'd explain myself... (Our time in Jericoacoara and Salvador)

The reason for my oh so belated update can be summed in a brilliant sentence Lena said; "we live in a tiny triangle in the woods".  For over a week, we've been living in our small tent in Vale do Capão, which is a small town in a valley (as the name suggests) smack in the middle of a national park (Chapada Diamantina).  But first, I'd like to address the pictures from before and then I'll get to this story.  Oh!  I nearly forgot!  I am now writing to you in comfort I have not felt in months.  Lena and I have safely returned to Governador Valadares and will be returning to the States in a mere five days.  On to our story...

Last I had written, we were in Jericoacoara (or "Jeri" as the locals refer to it).  This seems a lifetime ago now.  Jeri is a small beach town situated in the northeast of Brasil.  It truly did earn its value in beauty.  Soft sands, warm clear waters, the most delicious piña coladas, interesting lot of people, and being alone in the nature is only a 5 minute walk in any direction.  The downsides: tourist-driven to the core, expensive, far too many hippies trying to sell you earrings, and did I mention expensive?  Quite honestly, Lena and I didn't actually do a whole bunch.  In my memory of the experience, I feel much of our time was spent eating delicious sweets, ice cream, or something of the sort.  To save on money, we stayed in a campground.  What was nice about that was that they provided tents and our tent had a couple of mattresses in it too.  This was very much a step up from the small tent we've been traveling around with.  One of the highlights was having gone horseback riding around the dunes that surround the village.  Unfortunately my horse was very much on autopilot and I had very little control over any of its actions.  It did everything Lena's horse would do.  Including pit-stops to eat grass.

We met an important figure in our stay at the campground in Jeri.  He introduced himself as João, and he is from Vale do Capão.  We called him "Guru João do Capão".  He talked to us for great lengths of time on a couple occasions as though we were disciples of his.  He talked of Osho, the Indian philosopher, and spoke of him as his own personal guide or guru.  "...however, do not rely on your guide.  They will and can only bring you to the edge of the cliff, but you must be ready to take the plunge", he said.  João taught us a meditative breathing technique that is said to open the third eye.  He spoke much on finding oneself through meditation and yoga, of his life conquest and purpose to discover true, real happiness.  Real happiness is encapsulated within us but our energy cannot leak through any outlets.  He spoke of his thoughts on 2012, his idea of it is that there will be a reciprocal effect, where the "old world" becomes the "new world" and vice versa.  The new world will crumble to the ground and fall into the sea, the old world will rise again and those who remain will lead the world into the next cycle.  Whether literal, metaphysical, or whatnot does not matter, the principle remains the same.  Though, João did believe this to be a physical and literal transformation and claimed that he is very much prepared to die when the event takes place.  Take it or leave it, this was one amazing person to chat with and listen to.

Guru João do Capão doing yoga at the campground

After a long series of bus rides that lead us to a day in the large northeast city of Fortaleza, we eventually made our way south to the state of Bahia, into the grand city of Salvador.  A city so fine, with a beautiful aesthetic and colorful culture, one could not begin to dip their fingers in all of the textures it had to offer in the short period of our visit - a mere six days.  We spent much of our time in the Pelourinho, a very famous section of the city, and a gorgeous historical center.  Samba music provides the backdrop and rhythm as you navigate the skinny cobblestone streets.  A deliciously vibrant palette of pastel colors decorate the homes, shops and clothing of passer-byers.  And as you breath in the likely polluted air, you become aware that this is not a place to take lightly.  Crime is very high.  And I have the unfortunate curse that, even as a genuine Brazilian, I am deemed a foreigner from afar solely due to my beard, a highly atypical appearance in Brasil.

The city of Salvador is split in half by a large hill that some of the city rests on, while the other half sits below.  They aptly named this the Cidade Alta (Upper City) and Cidade Baixa (Lower City), respectively.  Traversing from one to the other means walking up a steep hill, or taking one of two methods of transportation.  One is a cart that scales up a track, the other takes form of an elevator that scales 80 meters in about 5 seconds, each costs R$0.15 centavos to get up or down.

We visited a number of churches, Salvador most abundant resource.  The most famous, Igreja de Nosso Senhor do Bonfim, is responsible for the many "fitas" (ribbons) scattered about the city.  You learn quickly that these have been adopted by many beggars and pickpockets as a way to get the attention, and eventually money, of foreigners.  They are given as "gifts" and "blessings", or at least that was the original intent, and are tied around ones wrist and knotted three times, each representing a prayer or wish that will be granted to the bearer of the fita.  In order for it manifest, it must fall off naturally, and cannot be cut or untied.  I, of course, cut mine off - it's not good for my circulation.  Alongside the sanctuary of the aforementioned church, in a room called the Sala dos Milagres (Room of Miracles), a bizarre display of wax hands, feet, arms, legs, heads, and even organs hang from the ceiling.  Posted on the walls are pictures and notes, some of people in hospital beds, in bandages, some of families with smiles, all of which are praying for a miracle, or thanking for those prayers granted to them.

Igreja de Nosso Senhor do Bonfim

Fitas

Sala dos Milagres (Room of Miracles)

Along with several churches, we visited a couple museums.  This includes the Museu da Musica Brasileira (Museum of Brazilian Music), where we got to watch a Disney special, Donald Duck & Los Bandoleiros, and later we visited the Museu de Arte Moderno (Museum of Modern Art), which hosted a live jazz jam session and two standout art exhibits by artists Eduardo Berliner and Henrique Oliveira.  As we arbitrarily roamed about the city, we could hear samba beats off in the distance and decided to follow our ears.  We happened upon a samba party that was taking place in a private club.  We walked right on in, no questions asked, and with the smell of beer and spirit of celebration we got to watch a free show as people danced all around us.

Another most intriguing event that we attended was a Candomblé ceremony.  Candomblé is an Afro-Brazilian religion that originated from and was developed by black African priests and priestesses who were enslaved and brought to Brasil.  The religion is a fundamental part of the mythology, music, language and culture of Bahia and Salvador.  The intention of the practiced ritual by the candomblistas (participants of the ritual) is to become overtaken and possessed by the spirits of the Orixas (the deities of the Candomblé religion).  The "god of gods", if you will, in the belief system is called Oxalá.  The various terreiros (houses of Candomblé worship) tend to focus on a single deity.  The one which we attended, called Casa de Mãe Menininha, poured its attention and celebration on Oxum.  The ceremony lasted for five hours, literally non-stop.  The drums, playing a very odd yet consistent beat structure, rambled on seemlessly from beginning to end.  They stopped infrequently and sporadically, only to allow a new chant to begin, and they would pick right back up again.  Everything is white.  Everyone wears only white - down to belts and shoe laces.  White streamers and white doves hang from the ceiling.  Of course, seeing as Lena and I are traveling and have limited clothing, Lena's tie-dye skirt and my navy blue pin-striped pants stood out.  Luckily, we weren't the only ones to attend out of "dress code" and were never spoken to about it, which eased the awkward obviousness of our inconsistency.  I was, however, called out on a different issue.  At the very onset of our arrival, I was caught taking pictures and forced not only to stop and put the camera away, but a man even stood beside me and made sure I deleted every photo off the camera.  Men and women were separated at the door.  Women must stand on the left side of the room, men on the right.  In the back center of the room, on a throne sat Mãe de Santo, the matriarchal figurehead of this particular terreiro.

The candomblistas paraded counter-clockwise around the room.  Round and round they went, dancing, chanting, singing, and succumbing fully to the spirit that enveloped them.  The pseudo-melodic mantras were long, repetitive, and of some foreign tongue.  I am certain that no Portuguese was uttered that night.  The dances were dramatic and methodical, precisely representing and emoting along with the battering beat.  As the hits grew louder and faster, the dancers movements became pungent with quickness and enthusiasm.  Whenever the beat would stop, as zombies, the candomblistas would pause in position, wavering side-to-side, eyes rolled to the back of their heads, completely possessed and entranced.  Many of the observers were still very much a part of the ceremony, interacting with the candomblistas and participating in singing and dancing.  Some people, including some in the observers, actually began seizing right where they stood.  I mean literally seizing!  One man standing directly next to me actually began seizing; stiffened and shaking from head to toe, and only the whites of his eyes visible.  The fellow members around these fallen possessed would catch them and hold them, wiping the sweat from their faces and pouring water on their heads.  We were fed in this five hour ceremony.  Several members would walk around the room with trays of grapes and apples, passing them to us observers.  I never did see a single candomblista, the ones actually exerting themselves, drink a cup of water or eat anything.  The highlight to me was this one 15 year old girl whose dancing was out of this world.  She actually put on a "performance" by herself, as she flamboyantly heaved across the room at super speed in excellent rhythm.  And after five hours we were left dumbfounded.

A beautiful wood-carved depiction of the Candomblé deity Oxum, by Argentinean artist Carybé

Another wood-carved display of Candomblé's highest deity, Oxalá

One last, highly important, final notation on Salvador.  There was this small "lanchonette" (a small restaurant where you can buy hot snacks, juices, and many other totally random things) that Lena and I found one night in Salvador.  We stopped in and glanced at the menu posted on the wall where we found and ordered a banana milkshake for each of us.  I must add, this is no ordinary banana milkshake.  It was made with chocolaty milk!  But it isn't just the flavor I'm raving about here.  The portions were ridiculous.  They brought out two small pitchers and large cups for each of us.  And best of all, they cost only R$2.50 each, which is a price you'd normally pay for a small cup of juice anywhere else in Brasil.  Anyway, I suppose that's enough about that.  I do intend to write more, since our adventure did not end there and I do have more I'd like to write to you about, but I've been doing this for way too long, need a break, and this seems like a good place to stop.  I would like to mention, I added some captions to the pictures from the previous blog post to help explain the situations a little better, so check those out.  Lastly, Lena and I intend on jumping off Mt. Ibituruna (the mountain here in Valadares) today.  Well, not to our deaths I hope.  We've been talking to a professional paraglider who will be taking the plunge with us and I think the idea is that we hover over the city... you know, rather than falling to our doom.  Byebye!