A last week in Rio and one spent saying fond farewells once again to a spray of volunteers from my August intake. Bimo had the misfortune of leaving just before another Lapa Friday; Jennifer flew back to Seattle and almost shed a tear to the casa as she gave a very proper royal wave from her departing taxi; Emma-Jayne caught a cab and plane back to Sheffield via Croydon to pursue her Architecture studies in the city of lavish cutlery and snooker world championships and Aaron held tightly to three tumblers of Red Label Johnnie Walker in Bar Simplesmente as he contemplated his voyage back to Los Angeles to continue his valuable work in urban reforestation.
Hard at work / Bored at work. And why is my laptop so small?
My legacy at Tatiane Lima. Some idiot drawings for the kids
The people, in all their shapes and sizes and array of descent be it Italian, German, Black, mixed, Native Indian, have amazed me with their attitude from my tourist safe voyeurism. I have witnessed most restaurants and cafes offer free glasses of water and small meals to the destitute, an act that I have similarly been brought up with due to my Kolkata roots. On the buses we have been often approached by friendly passengers informing us kindly as to where to get off had we been unsure, even candy sellers would drop their merchandise, exchange swift pleasantries in broken English or Portuguese and then disembark without even asking for us to buy their sweets. Once when I was standing (and violently swaying) on the racing omnibus back to Centro from Batam, a young girl snatched the thick textbooks I had under my arm and without a word in passing placed them on her lap with a smile so that I would not have to struggle with them during the trip. These small gestures count for much.
In my final weekend in the Cidade Maravilhosa I headed to Ipanema, taunted by a bothersome midday sun to explore the hippy fair. Walking past butchered wooden idols of Christ and pearly shells from the Atlantic I desperately sought asylum from the heat and the casual listlessness of a Sunday remembering once again my utter distaste in retail. Back in the casa, new recruits from Iko Poran - Sofie from Belgium and Lea from Freiburg, took pity on my lonely mood and invited me to their evening laptop cinema sessions in the sitting room as the clatter of the passing bonde tram worked its hardest to destroy the audio. I was sure glad that no one back home saw me wrapped up in a blanket on a cream leather sofa eating chocolate biscuits. It was a new low, but do understand it was part of my winding down exercise.
Hard at work / Bored at work. And why is my laptop so small?
On my final day at Tatiane Lima in Batam, eleven year old Pedro dumbfounded me when I dismissed class ten minutes early (I was hungry) and he begged me to teach him more scraps of the language. Little did he know that I had no more to tutor. Beyond translations of fruit, colours and parts of the body my skills as an educator were limited, especially without the aid of any reference books.
It was a fond last goodbye to the team at the project. The co-owner, Eliane, lovingly prepared me a special meal for my work - consisting of beans, rice, salad with a refreshing dressing and a beef and potato stew. I had to distract her keen eye as I shovelled only the chunks of potato on to my plate, not having the heart to explain that I didn´t touch the bife.
My appetite was serenaded later in the evening when a group us went out for my last meal at a Rodizio Pizza restaurant in Gloria. Sarah, David, Lea, Sofie and I were left exhausted by the barrage of waiters offering us slices from the silver trays. We just about had enough room for the much anticipated dessert pizzas - filled with hot chocolate sauce, strawberries, bananas and smarties. It was an accomplished and glutinous ending to proceedings.
My appetite was serenaded later in the evening when a group us went out for my last meal at a Rodizio Pizza restaurant in Gloria. Sarah, David, Lea, Sofie and I were left exhausted by the barrage of waiters offering us slices from the silver trays. We just about had enough room for the much anticipated dessert pizzas - filled with hot chocolate sauce, strawberries, bananas and smarties. It was an accomplished and glutinous ending to proceedings.
I absorbed a lot about the plight of Brazil during my two month stay. The country is in buoyant mood with the exciting few years ahead hosting the FIFA World Cup and Olympics which should both be an extraordinary fiesta of sporting celebrations and the opportunity for so many individuals to take advantage of improved infrastructure in the country and serious economic investment. The blue collared and nine fingered President Lula looks to end his term later this year under encouraging egalitarian social programmes which as a whole have gotten to the heart of the extreme poverty issues for many communities (but of course, not all). It is a good foundation at its core, but by simply walking through the more impoverished districts of Rio such as Realengo or Tijuca one can still observe desperate inequality in comparison to the affluent areas in Zona Sul such as Leblon and Ipanema.
The activity of trading narcotics within the communidades has still not been addressed effectively. When you can hear the distant blades rotating from flying helicopters I often cringe at the thought that they are more than likely to be organised police raids ready for a bloody showdown in a nearby favela in order to dislodge the drug lords - not taking into account the hundreds of stray bullets sprayed through the thin walls of the houses and towards civilians.
The activity of trading narcotics within the communidades has still not been addressed effectively. When you can hear the distant blades rotating from flying helicopters I often cringe at the thought that they are more than likely to be organised police raids ready for a bloody showdown in a nearby favela in order to dislodge the drug lords - not taking into account the hundreds of stray bullets sprayed through the thin walls of the houses and towards civilians.
The people, in all their shapes and sizes and array of descent be it Italian, German, Black, mixed, Native Indian, have amazed me with their attitude from my tourist safe voyeurism. I have witnessed most restaurants and cafes offer free glasses of water and small meals to the destitute, an act that I have similarly been brought up with due to my Kolkata roots. On the buses we have been often approached by friendly passengers informing us kindly as to where to get off had we been unsure, even candy sellers would drop their merchandise, exchange swift pleasantries in broken English or Portuguese and then disembark without even asking for us to buy their sweets. Once when I was standing (and violently swaying) on the racing omnibus back to Centro from Batam, a young girl snatched the thick textbooks I had under my arm and without a word in passing placed them on her lap with a smile so that I would not have to struggle with them during the trip. These small gestures count for much.
Donald Duck´s trip to Brasil and the Carioca he meets is reminiscent of mine:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3Fit31LXDo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3Fit31LXDo
My fellow volunteers at Casa Amerelinho say goodbye. Ok, so this may have been for Jen´s leaving but mine was very similar.
Just with much less people and wide smiles replacing tears.
Just with much less people and wide smiles replacing tears.
There are many aspects I shall not miss: acclimatising to ´Brazilian time´ whereby our Western etiquette for punctuality is contorted to abide to a standard of tardiness; the addition of spoonfuls of sugar in every drink and food item - a bad omen for obesity and diabetes; the exchanges of cocaine, guns and menacing glances on some darkened street corners - I can´t wait to carry my wallet, phone and wear a watch again; every taxi, car and bus driver pretending to be Ayrton Senna behind the wheels (it isn't fun when it isn't you); the repulsive corruption on display from the authorities and the uninhabited sexism and open sleaziness of the men towards the women - many have explained that it is extended flattery to the fairer species but I hasten to disagree.
However, with streets lined with kids playing football and with the air scented with all manner of music escaping each door and alleyway it is easy to get lost in such a place.
And now an an end to the technicolour Odyssey, with the fondest of memories ranging from catching sight of the bright orange cloaks of the monks walking serenely on the grounds of the Temples of Angkor Wat and learning in depth of the brutal past of the beautiful and bruised Cambodians; weaving in and out of the siege of motorcycles in Saigon when all I wanted was a plate of Bun Cha; trekking in Sapa on the border of Vietnam and China; sleeping in a tomb in Hong Kong; having two very different experiences with a masseuse in Shanghai with my old friend Rob; a haphazard daytime wine tour in Hunter Valley with Matty, his fiance Katie and Paul; skydiving, kayaking and glacier walking in the achingly majestic New Zealand landscape; eating all the helados and empanadas in sight in Buenos Aires, hiking with the Inca legends and freezing in the Salt Flat deserts of Bolivia alongside Matty. It has all been a breathtaking distraction.
Brazilians talk of a state of mind referenced in many of the scratched Bossa Nova records called saudade - an abstract terminology for a deep melancholy or yearning for something one is fond of, be it in the past, present or the future which has been forever lost. I will be prone to flirt with this and carry like an ornate pocket watch. The longing that remains once something disappears.
Brazilians talk of a state of mind referenced in many of the scratched Bossa Nova records called saudade - an abstract terminology for a deep melancholy or yearning for something one is fond of, be it in the past, present or the future which has been forever lost. I will be prone to flirt with this and carry like an ornate pocket watch. The longing that remains once something disappears.
Beautiful ending to a fantastic journey and now back to reality. I'll be with you soon.
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