..circumnavigate.with.me..

Today’s bad news:

Tonight we lose one hour

Tomorrow night we lose one hour.

Saturday night we lose one hour.

3 x 23 hours ≠ 3 days

Today’s good news:

My mysterious rash from trekking has faded!

This entire semester is an adventure. My time in Brazil (so far!) has been another adventure within this global adventure. Hold onto your hats, let go of your inhibitions and read on about gallivanting through Brazil….

Part Um: A Brazilian Bus Ride

After clearing the ship (all passengers passed through customs procedures), Linds, Garrett and I geared up and headed out to the bus station. Lacking the native tongue, we attempted to navigate our way through the rodovarìa in search of bus tickets. After finding the correct bus company’s counter, we were relived when the ticketing agent glanced at us and said, “Three tickets to Lençois, yes?” We had a couple hours time before boarding which was spent on eating awkward Asian food and making unsuccessful attempts at emi-local phone calls. After boarding the steamy bus, we were forced to accept the constant accumulation of perspiration on our bodies. As the holder of the ticket for seat number 46, I double and triple crossed my fingers that the future occupant of seat number 47 would be a lovely Latino lad. I quickly decided to settle for anyone who was relatively free of body odor. The engine was fired up and before we knew it we were out of the city and hordes of very un-lively livestock were flying past our windows. Our progress was impeded by a group of grotesque giddy girls who fled to the bus bathroom to satisfy nicotine cravings…. One half hour after boarding. Disgruntled the bus driver brought the bus to a roadside halt and stormed toward the restroom. But alas, the culprits had confined themselves under lock and key. In frustration the driver burst out into curses of the Holy Father, the Holy Mother and the Holy Uncle ( or so I’d like to imagine… I suppose I’ll never know the meaning of his utterances as I am anything but an expert in Portuguese). The driver surrendered and resumed his place at the wheel.

In the US, rural towns are often referenced as ‘one stoplight towns’. In the Brazilian countryside, the concept is similar except that most villages are ‘one speed hump villages’. More numerous than the tiny buildings that made up these small villages were the giant pools of light from the sun that dotted the ditches along the way.

While the scenery had a calming effect, slumber seekers take warning! The ride was anything but tranquìlo. The road was two lanes of twists and turns, hills and valleys. Semi trucks and pick up trucks were prevalent and it was an accepted practice to haphazardly pass as many of the former as possible at a one time. This resulted in more swerves and jerks then any backseat passenger would ever care to endure. Having two feet planted loosely on the safe deck of the ship I am able to reflect on this bus ride as a crazy cultural experience.

Part Dois: ¡Boa Noite, Lençois! (Good Evening, Len-soiz)

With the name and rough location of a single hotel in the town, we scuttled off the steamy bus in Lençois. More to come soon….

The Bushmen of the Nairobi desert have been struggling to survive in the desolate climate for thousands of years.  In desperate times, these people of the third world have turned to a cactus-like plant for both its ability to retain water and its appetite-suppressing qualities (in an attempt to ward off starvation).  The chemical contained within this plant is now being used in obese Americans’ diet pills: Hoodia.

Many fight to evade starvation. We seek to combat the exact opposite.  We really are a disconnected world.

Our time in Brazil was brilliant. But I would be skirting around the truth if I failed to admit some minor setbacks:

After two entire months without any rainfall, precipitation presented itself daily during our stay. Luckily, a local said, “Don’t worry, it only rains in the morning and at night!” What they failed to mention was that the ‘morning’ ends around 1400 and the ‘night’ begins around 1700.

The scent of Salvador was a true eau de toilet. Emphasis on the toilet.

I was psyched to attend an Ash Wednesday service in Salvador. Unfortunately, our group got lost and never made the mass.

Our first Brazilian cab ride: being ripped off an embarrassing amount of money after an unwanted tour of the city on the way to the bus station.

I contracted some poison ivy/oak/ rash thing from the Brazilian highlands…. Siiiiick.

…I can feel all of my mothers cringing right now (Grand, God, and ‘Mom’)….

 ”We are Carnival, we are we are Bahiiiia!”

• Gutters filled with both human product waste and human bodily waste
• The music was so loud the pounding of your heart is replaced with the pounding of the percussion.
• Lindsay, Garrett and I proved all of the worst-case scenarios wrong by never being approached, touched, stopped, grabbed, mugged, threatened, or even yelled at.  Although members of the police force carried a corpse right in front of us en route to the police station. 
• We danced wildly in the street sans an alcohol-induced release of inhibitions.
• We screamed along lyrics to songs we didn’t understand.
• We were amazed that, though there were two million people at the party, we were able to locate Robb in a bloco (a Carnival parade float that carries performers and very very large speakers) thrice!  Additionally, we ran, er, danced into our Brazilian friend Fabio from the trek in Lencois.

Over the course of this voyage, we will reset our clocks approximately 25 times.  For those that have class at 0800, losing this increment of time during the wee hours of the morning is devastating.  In the journey of a lifetime, twenty five 23 hours days is devastating.  Keep fingers crossed for timely arrivals to Colonial and Post Colonial Lit (at 0800, B).

.final.thought.  why do we advance our watches during the night/ just before going to bed  We ought to seriously consider adjusting for time zones at 1200 instead.

While I never leave the cafeteria at Drake without selecting and devouring a tasty dessert (often times ice cream or a cookie), this mealtime finale is never accompanied with coffee. But an offer for dessert on board is always a joint contract: a cup of joe and cake.

Since I am on the subject of food, I’m sure that the ‘fam’ would appreciate some reassurance on my nutritional wellbeing.  The food on the ship has been fantastic (although, after a week at sea I think that taste buds are beginning to tire).  I have discovered that the vegetarian dishes (Black bean stews, veggies of all types, kidney bean casseroles) are quite divine.  At each meal, there is a meat dish and also fish offering.  In contrast to alum tales, there has been a plethora of vegetable available including salad at every meal.

When all else fails, beeline to the PB&J.

Less than ten days into this journey, I can already see changes within myself.  The intellectual community on this vessel is incredibly stimulating.  Though my courses are in four different disciplines they are interrelated.  Discussion constantly revolves around the sustainability of the environment and possible means of fighting the causes of world hunger and poverty.  Daily topics in Global Studies are brought up again in Global Environmental Politics which are expanded on in The Politics of Third World Development (where historical reasoning comes in from Brazilian literature from Colonial Lit).  It is amazing how deeply we learn and understand when this holistic approach is utilized. 

Days are irrelevant.

Two days ago, there was beverage service after dinner.

Two days ago, I had class from 0800-1045.

Two days ago, I did not have an opportunity to attend mass.

Two days ago, it was Sunday.

In the states, alcohol, classes and failing to go to church are not typical Sunday activities.  But on the ship, Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays have little meaning.  There are ‘A’ days and ‘B’ days.  There are days ‘At Sea’ and days ‘In port’.  Days are meaningless. 

In sharp contrast to my random roommate assignment from freshmen year of college, the outcome of my SAS placement was a GREAT SUCCESS!  Very nice…

The roomie’s name is Lindsay.  She comes from the land of Indiana, where she is a resident, third-year student, and a Phi Mu sorority girl.  On night number 5 we were already planning future US and possibly European(!) reunions.

Daily Justin Timberlake dance parties may not yet be a reality, but we have bonded by rooming together on the ship, in a pousada, and in a tent on cliff in Brazil in the pouring rain in a cloud…