For anyone wondering if I made it past the Bermuda Triangle and what I´m doing if I did, I´m happy to report my landing in Brazil has been a soft one. I did get a little stuck in the Sao Paolo Triangle, but thats another story. The air travel itself was predictably arduous, with over twenty four hours in transit, flight delays, etc. The highlights however were my midnight hours in the airport in Lima Peru. For those who don´t know, I spent three years there as a child, and played for many years in an Andean (Peruvian) folk music band in Santa Cruz. Though travel weary, I passed a most excellent hour having a beer, watching and listening to some live andean folk music right there in the terminal, songs I´ve played myself, and enjoying a dish of lomo saltado, a dish everyone in my family enjoyed immensely while we lived there, and have lamented a thousand times that we never brought the recipe home with us. Mom and Jen, that one was for you.
Anyway, eventually I touched down in Florianopolis (sounds like some sci fi utopia, huh? It is, without the sci fi). I had hardly thrown my bag on a bed and wandered to the nearest internet cafe before my buddy Brian is rolling up with a car, five surfboards, 5 weeks on the island under his belt and a great "let´s do this" party attitude. That first day we did get into the surf in the late day, my first taste of brazilian surf and my first time on a short board that I can remember. The water and beach sand- simply luscious. The waves, well, different. As I am learning, though Brasil is famous for its surfers and beaches, it doesnt get the greatest surf. Most breaks are beach breaks instead of the point breaks of Santa Cruz and Cali, which means short rides, and the waves are steep and smallish, depending on swell of course. It doen´t mean there aren´t a million surfers down here, and novice as I am I´m sure the water has plenty to teach me.
We soon settled into a groove which began each day with- sleeping. Depending on the damage done the night before we of course had to recuperate by sleeping through most of the morning. After this necessary step of course breakfast, a little cafe com leite, a little suco de acai, and the omelete completo, pao integral on the side. If you know what I´m talking about here, then you know, if not let me just say its brazilian for the lumberjack breakfast. A little internet to keep up with friends and family, then its beach time.
Florianopolis, or Floripa, is a long skinny island of 400,000 inhabitants, and I´m going to guess somewhere around 100 miles of beach, including many of the most beautiful in Brazil, a country known for its beaches. Every beach a perfect crescent of white sand nestled between blue waters and green jungle, with a smattering (is that a word?) of barracas or restaurants with hammocks, umbrellas, wood decks, and sound systems. Between the hours of 10 am and 6 pm, a majority of the population is on the beach, turning every white sand strip into a riot of colored umbrellas and extremely fit, tanned bodies. The waters team with swimmers, the waves with surfers, the shoreline with walkers and fresco ball players, and the outside with small craft.
In between walk the vendors. If you need it on the beach, you can get it on the beach. From the comfort of your beach chair, any type of food, drink, jewelry, clothing, footware, hammocks, tattoos, trinkets, cold beer, whole wheat sandwiches, grilled mozarella, pineapple daquiri, bowl of acai- you get the picture. You really dont need to get out of your chair, except to cool off, and the people watching is the best. Since the swell died soon after I arrived, me an Bri have been doing a lot of people watching, drink sipping, and swimming. Its usually pretty easy to get to know your neighbors as well, and we´ve had lots of opportunities to practice our portuguese, as well as a little spanish, with the large argentinian tourist population. A few days ago we met a pretty wacky pair of argentinian sisters on the beach, along with a few of their friends. They talked our ears off all day with their castillian spanish, then we gave them a ride to their place where they made us a shrimp dinner and a weird alcoholic drink that was kind of like root beer. They were pretty fun, the younger one especially sassy and they definintely stretched our language boundaries as the night wore on and the drinks flowed.
This brings me to the next step in the routine- the night time. After the beach of course there is the shower, maybe a trip to the market or bank, a little internet, then dinner. Somehow dinner usually starts around ten or eleven. A few blocks from our lodging is a strip of restaurants all crammed against each other on both sides of the street. Its the strip. Theyre all open to the street and to each other, and many have small bands playing. People sit and drink or eat and the sidewalks are clogged with people hanging out or milling from one spot to the next. Again, great people watching (OK girl watching) and always a chance to practice some portuguese (OK chat with the ladies). This gets the evening started and then its off to a club or bar somewhere to catch a show or some dancing.
Ive seen some great bands since I´ve come here, in particular a forro group one night and a pagode group on another. The trend I´ve seen at these shows is that there are many more girls out than guys, and that girls just wanna have fun. So I´ve been working on my moves for forro and samba. So far the forro is much better. I at least had some practice from Santa Cruz, but its been great to see Brian hopping around with the ladies. I mainly know him from doing construction work together and as a surfer, so to see him getting down to a little accordian and triangle has been pretty cool. The pagode band was really great, and I got the number of the cavaquinho player, in case I want to start playing a whole new instrument!
So lifes been pretty good. In the last week my skin and the tropical sun have reached an agreement, wherin my color shall thencforth be red. Somehow I´ve avoided a painful burn, while spending most of my time in the direct sun, but I am not white any more, or brown. I put Brian on a bus last night for Foc de Iguacu (that really big waterfall), after that he´s off to chile for more surf. He left me a surfboard (so much for travelling light) which is cool, because I have 10 more days of being a south shore brazilian beach bum before I head north to salvador to play some drums, and get crazy for Carnaval! Updates to follow- maybe I´ll even get my camera out. Ate mais (until later) Mike.
PS ignore that gmail address above, the usual cruzio address is good or commenting here- ciao!
