Back to the Beach

Well, carnaval came and went, and there´s some stories to tell, however I have left town for some beach time and decompression, so I´m going to tell those stories first. First stop- Arembepe. Arembepe was put on the map by none other than Janis Joplin and Mick Jagger, in the 60s. A small coastal village, typically brazilian and unremarkable, has, since that time, gained an interesting, summer of love "aldea hippy" as a neighbor. Where the road ends at the edge of town, the sand dunes begin. A fresh water lagoon, sand paths, swaying palm trees, white sand dunes, and long stretch of beach has become the site for the "hippy village". No electricity, no roads, no vehicles, no running water. Grass shacks, built of drift wood and palm fronds, dot the dunes. Some walls are built of mud and plaster, with glass bottles built into the walls for light. Courtyards contain fanciful tilework or child like paintings of flowers and rainbows. The pousadas have wells for dredging water, candles for light. It was pretty much great. At night the stars shown so bright they seemed to be bursting out of the sky. A brilliant half moon shone off the waves and silhouetted the palms, rustling in the warm breeze. Soft voices could be heard in the moonlight, laughter, a guitar. We lived on the second floor of one such grass shack, palm fronds for walls, wood slats for floor, a triangular door, and a plank window lowered by a rope to reveal a perfect view of the beach and the waves. Called Manga Rosa, or pink mango, the pousada was run by a french woman who had lived there for twenty one years. She uses the money she makes to help house and educate orphan children, and she was super sweet. We spent a few days here, and the time passed quickly. Trod down the sand path to the lagoon and cool off in the fresh warm water with the locals. Walk past the grazing mule to the lunch spot for a sandwich and some fresh juice, then a long walk on the beach. Life was good.

We could also walk into town for some variety, where a completely different parallel world existed. Town square was always full of activity, adults and kids of all ages out all night long, live music, impromptu dance competitions, lots of sitting and sipping beer, snacking, talking, people watching, and a little dominoes. Here I discovered a new and delicious food. Pastel de banana. A light flaky pastry in a rectangular shape and filled with fresh banana, quick fried and dusted with sugar and cinammon. Yes! Pastels are common throughout Brazil, but they usually contain chicken or meat, this new fruit option is quite fantastic. I´m looking forward to some other fruits- maybe mango or pineapple? Mmmmmm. That reminds me of another fantastic food I´ve discovered. By now you are probably getting clear that every where you go people are on the street selling whatever, all types of snacks, drinks, and trinkets. Generally that´s great, until you find a pushy one. Anyway, common here are guys pushing around giant boiling vats of fresh corn. As I´ve discovered, they have somthing else in those vats. Called pomonha, its basically a coconut tamale. Sweetened cornmeal with shredded coconut, boiled in a corn husk and served with light butter and salt, its my new favorite thing. Its also a trip. Its fun having something in your mouth that is totally unlike anthing you´ve ever tasted, and totally delicious at the same time.

So back to the beach. After a few days we were ready to change things up to we headed a bit further north to a town called Praia Do Forte. This area was put on the map by the TAMAR Sea Turtle project. Funded by the Brasilian oil giant Petrobras, the organization has undertaken to conserve endangered sea turtles in the area and educate the locals about the issues. There is a great exhibit with some huge sea turtles and other marine life. Primarily however, the area is a prime breading gournd for many species of sea turtle. As you walk down the beach plastic stakes mark sea turtle nests, one every five to ten feet for miles up and down the beach. On one of my walks I came across a fresh nest. First I found a curious track, as if someone had dragged an irregular object through the sand. Then I realized it was the track of a mama sea turtle flapping through the beach sand. I followed the meandering trail. At one point it turned back toward the water and I though she had given up. Then I came to a disturbed area where she had exhaustively flippered a whole in the sand, laid her eggs, and then returned to the sea. Pretty cool. I got some pictures. I guess the tamar workers monitor the nests and ensure when they hatch the tiny babies all make it to the sea. In other areas they also buy eggs from fishermen, to keep them out of the fish soup.

Just like Arembepe, Praia do Forte sports the same white sand, tall palms, warm breezes and undisturbed, deserted beaches. The comparison can end there however. From hippy village to eco resort. The main avenue in Praia do Forte is clean, broad, tree lined, and car free. Block after block of fine restaurants, posh boutiques, clothing outlets, jewelry stores, souvenirs, and bars. On the neighboring streets some of the most expensive accomodations in all of Brasil. It was nice, but there was something of a disneyland vibe to it. It just didn´t feel like Brasil. The people strolling the avenue were all tourists, all wandering about in that tourist daze that comes from being in a new place.

My friends decided they were going back to salvador after having to pay 10 reais for a bowl of acai, and finding the cheapest bed in town was a shared room at a hostel for 35 reais. I stayed for two nights and was glad I did. Long walks on the beach, good food, chance encounters, good music. I liked wandering around getting a feel for the place a discovering the hidden spots. I found that just off the main drag the real brasil returned and locals were there, enjoying their evenings as usual. On my last day I walked for hours south on the beach. The previous day I had walked north. After hours of walking I finally came to some signs of civilization. What I like about brasil is that you can walk for miles on a deserted beach and eventually you are going to run into a human being and he is going to have a cooler full of cold beer, water, and maybe even sandwiches. In fact, if you can't do that you´re not in brasil. However on that northward journey the civilization turned out to be an exclusive resort, and I couldn´t even get a drink from the bar, or even wander the grounds, because it was all inclusive and only open to guests. Lame. On my southward journey I was finding myself a bit thirsty. I came to my second river crossing. Things got a bit surreal.

Maybe it was dehydration, maybe it was sunstroke, but suddenly I felt like I was in the middle of some mythical greek tale. I had seen no one for hours, just endless beach and palms. Then ahead beach broadend signifcantly and I could make out some old driftwood stumps. As I approached the stumps turned into human figures waving their arms and gesturing strangly. They were like mirages shimmering on the beach sand in the distance. I walked on. I was coming to the outlet of a biggish river, with a large sand bar beside. The men turned out to be fisherman untangling their net, one with a single arm, and both moving with this timeless grace and lack of haste. The scene could as easily have taken place a thousand years ago as today. Their backs to me, I walked past them to check out my crossing. It looked deep. And fast. And full of rocks. But... On the distant shore there were chairs, tables, and... beer! I mean water, or sandwiches or caipirinhas, or whatever. I needed a drink.

I waved to the fisherman and asked if the water was deep. They laughed and nodded yes. I gestured like "up to my shoulders". The one with two arms laughed and waved high over his head. Then he said- the boat man can take you. I turned and sure enough and ancient gnarly figure was waving from the other shore and pointing to a decrepit hull pulled up on the sand. Charon was offering to ferry me across the perilous river styx. And if I made it to the other side, what? And what would the price be? Strangely, this very morning I had received an email from my mother, warning me about a premonition she had had in a dream. She has these occasionally and they often prove uncannily relevant and timely. Long story short- she said don´t get on any boats- it could be very dangerous for you. OK. Here he comes, slowing pushing his craft through the current with a pole, dark with the sun behind him, a bent figure not unlike gollum. The water stained dark red from the bahian soil. The boatman's sinewy, leathery shoulders bunch and strain with his pole against the current. I could turn back, walk another two hours in the sun to get back and have a drink. Or I can take a short ride, in a little boat, with the mythic ferry man, through the turbulent dark waters. The boat touches the shore by my feet, the man gestures.

I got in the boat. We crossed in no time, I paid 5 reais, a beautiful bahian girl in a black bikini handed me an icy caipirinha, and some nice french blokes struck up a conversation about how brasil rules. I settled into my beach chair, and enjoyed the view and the company. The boatman winked and said- "it´s all good here". I couldn´t agree more, and I´m glad I crossed that river.