Finally back at SF State. I'm taking conducting, orchestration (which seems really fun- the final project will be orchestrating a piece for full orchestra and having the sfsu symphony give it a run-through), ancient through baroque music history (which i took in chile, but i think this one will be more in depth), symphony, chamber music, and i'm trying to get into a very full biology class so I can graduate next semester. I don't think i'll do wind band... but if i do i might pl ay some contrabassoon- skill i need to learn sometime. I also got a job at the tutoring center on-campus. training starts tuesday. I'll be doing essay-writing, reading and study skills... possibly remedial math, but i sort of hope not, as I haven't studied math since high school calculus...
Though I'm once again in my country of birth, I feel foreign again. I live on the corner of 30th and Lincoln in SF, a block from Irving street. Irving is a great neighborhood with the full gamut of services offered, but all with an oriental angle. Hardly any english is spoken around here. A lady from whom I bought a toaster (what house doesn't have a toaster??) recommended in broken english that I check out the big supermarket down the block, assuring me that it had everything. That sounded great, so I went down there only to find shelves and shelves stocked with things I could not begin to name... pickled... vegetable..? animal..? I got some half-and half (sweet nugget of white-people food!) and looked for the most normal bread. I settled on a bread sort of like cinnamon-swirl, but with sweet mung-bean paste instead of cinnamon. It's pretty good toasted. I might buy it again. I related my experience there to my housemate (who i barely ever see... it's really like a live alone here) and she said that sometimes they'll have a bucket of live frogs.
Today I left in a hurry for an appointment at school and forgot my keys in my house. While I waited for my landlord to get back and let me in I went out for Pho at a place I've been eyeing for a few days. The place smells wonderfully like all the roast ducks hanging in the window. It's so packed that if you come in alone, as I did, they sit you down with random people. Since everyone else was Vietnamese, I was a little self-concious of my chopstick abilities... but I keep up pretty well. Along with the giant bowl of brothy, noodly, beefy pho they give you a glass of hot tea (nothing like hot tea and spicy soup on a hot day!), lots of sauces, fresh bean sprouts and fresh basil. All for $5.50. The prices are generllay really good in the neighborhood. Peaches are only $.59/lb. A lot of gestures, nods and smiles go on between me and the waiters and shopkeepers. It's almost like I'm more foreign here in SF than in Santiago.
I'm off now for a run to the beach through golden gate park.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
I'm back in the city of kings, and recovering from a gnarly sickness that's kept me bedridden almost 5 days now. Edit has been taking great care of me. It's nice to have someone watch over me like this after being without family for so long. i finally went to go see a doctor (seeing a doctor here costs like $3) and she prescribed me Zitrobac (azitromicina). I don't know anything about drugs, but 500mg a day of this added to my diet of chicken soup and pepto bismol has really helped out. ¡Gracias, Zitrobac!
Iquitos totally blew me away. I'd never had a romantic moment ruined by a cloud of giant jungle mosquitos before Iquitos. The diet there is pretty much river fish, bananas, rice, fruit i've never heard of, chicken, and grubs. Big ol' gnarly white grubs with red heads. they put three of a stick and grill them like shishkabob. To avoid hipocracy, I must try all food, so of course i had a couple sticks of grubs. They were good, too! crunchy on the outside, creamy and sort of greasy on the inside... the heads were a little hard, though. There's barely any beef. People fry stuff, but mostly everything is grilled. Ceci's family cooked lunch for me. They have no stove or anything like that. the only appliances are the TV and stereo. they put bricks on the dirt floor, light charcoal between them and cook everything on a grate over this. Someone asked me if I liked to go camping. These people's lifestyle was camping as far as any 1st worlder is concerned.
Despite the humble lifestyle of the Iquitos folk, you couldn't ask for more decent, generous, friendly people. When someone is going to go out, they go into some curtained-off area of the house which appears to have a bucket of water and they come out perfectly groomed, wearing ironed clothes and makeup and smelling very pleasant. I wish the gringos in the hostel could accomplish the same with a conventional bathroom.
When one meets a family there, it's hard at first to know how everyone is related, who's kid is who's etc... These relations, however, don't seem to be such a big deal as they'd be in my own culture however. If the cousins have always slept in the same tiny house togehter, they're practically brothers. Personal space and property are not nearly as rigid. Neighbor kids would often come wandering through the house or looking in the windows whe I was visiting there. This communality especially applies to babies, though. Here you really do see a village raising a child. A few times now I've had people I hardly know thrust babies into my arms if they need free hands for a moment.
The flow of life is much more natural there. Having babies doesn't seem to be seen as a catastrophic earth-shattering existance alterer as it is in the US. People aren't as judgemental about your education or family, nor are they as self-concious. I was going over to a friend's house for the first time and she sort of made a quick disclaimer en route that her family's house was simple and not to expect much. Of course I said that it didn't matter at all, but it's still a little shocking to see a pharmacist go home to a dirt floor with chickens running around the house. Despite the conditions, the dwellers of these houses are very civilized and rediculously friendly. You don't find such rampant friendliness in the developed world. Everyone's too suspicious and busy watching out over their stuff and their image. putting myself in Iquitos showed me this side of myself. If someone starts talking to me, and it turns out that they have the most benign of intentions, I'm still suspicious, going over various situations of how the might just be tricking me into thinking that they're friendly to somehow take advantage of me. Sure, this sort of thing happens, but hardly ever. For the most part people here just like making friends.
Nobody has computors of cameras or anyhing like that, so there's hardly any family photos. It's weird thinking that people don't have their baby pictures, but then it doesn't seem like there's so much resistance to time here. Anyway, Ceci hasn't been to Iquitos to see her family in 3 years and hasn't even met her nephew, so I told the family that I'd photograph them so that she could see everyone. They took it all pretty seriously, washing, putting on nicer clothes than normal, etc. The mom made sure that I waited around to take pictures of her son that was at work and then come back to take pictures of her husband. Her husband showed up much later. I guess he works as a guard somewhere because he showed up with military boots and pants and a shirt with some kind of government logo (all well-worn and dirty). Despite his serious demeanor, he made me feel welcome. When he talked it almost seemed like he was showing off his grey teeth which were completely outlined in gold. A lot of people have that here. I guess it keeps cavities out while looking totally badass. He asked me my name and said that his brother's name is also Augusto. Then, he told me his name is "Segundo. Segundo Pacaya." No doubt one of the most badass names I've heard, but his saying it made it that much more so. When he got there, it was almost night, so we went outside where there was some more light. A big crowd of neighbors came out and stood around watching the couple get their picture taken. I printed out some of the better ones to give them.
I was only there 6 days, but made some good friends that I will stay in touch with. Ceci's family invited me to stay with them when I come back, but I can't even imagine where all of them sleep when night falls on that little house.
I never did end up doing much out-doorsey jungle stuff... but whatever. leave that to the foreigners who come all the way down here to keep themselves as separate as possible from the people who live here.
There are more photos up on my photobucket. The address is in a past blog entry.
Tonight at 2:30am it's back to Santiago. I was going to go by bus, but then Ursula couldn't for some reason. Also, I'm barely free of this infirmity and it'd be a terrible idea to start some giant odyssey in this condition. I will live in a cool house with some mexican friends.
hope all is well in california.
Iquitos totally blew me away. I'd never had a romantic moment ruined by a cloud of giant jungle mosquitos before Iquitos. The diet there is pretty much river fish, bananas, rice, fruit i've never heard of, chicken, and grubs. Big ol' gnarly white grubs with red heads. they put three of a stick and grill them like shishkabob. To avoid hipocracy, I must try all food, so of course i had a couple sticks of grubs. They were good, too! crunchy on the outside, creamy and sort of greasy on the inside... the heads were a little hard, though. There's barely any beef. People fry stuff, but mostly everything is grilled. Ceci's family cooked lunch for me. They have no stove or anything like that. the only appliances are the TV and stereo. they put bricks on the dirt floor, light charcoal between them and cook everything on a grate over this. Someone asked me if I liked to go camping. These people's lifestyle was camping as far as any 1st worlder is concerned.
Despite the humble lifestyle of the Iquitos folk, you couldn't ask for more decent, generous, friendly people. When someone is going to go out, they go into some curtained-off area of the house which appears to have a bucket of water and they come out perfectly groomed, wearing ironed clothes and makeup and smelling very pleasant. I wish the gringos in the hostel could accomplish the same with a conventional bathroom.
When one meets a family there, it's hard at first to know how everyone is related, who's kid is who's etc... These relations, however, don't seem to be such a big deal as they'd be in my own culture however. If the cousins have always slept in the same tiny house togehter, they're practically brothers. Personal space and property are not nearly as rigid. Neighbor kids would often come wandering through the house or looking in the windows whe I was visiting there. This communality especially applies to babies, though. Here you really do see a village raising a child. A few times now I've had people I hardly know thrust babies into my arms if they need free hands for a moment.
The flow of life is much more natural there. Having babies doesn't seem to be seen as a catastrophic earth-shattering existance alterer as it is in the US. People aren't as judgemental about your education or family, nor are they as self-concious. I was going over to a friend's house for the first time and she sort of made a quick disclaimer en route that her family's house was simple and not to expect much. Of course I said that it didn't matter at all, but it's still a little shocking to see a pharmacist go home to a dirt floor with chickens running around the house. Despite the conditions, the dwellers of these houses are very civilized and rediculously friendly. You don't find such rampant friendliness in the developed world. Everyone's too suspicious and busy watching out over their stuff and their image. putting myself in Iquitos showed me this side of myself. If someone starts talking to me, and it turns out that they have the most benign of intentions, I'm still suspicious, going over various situations of how the might just be tricking me into thinking that they're friendly to somehow take advantage of me. Sure, this sort of thing happens, but hardly ever. For the most part people here just like making friends.
Nobody has computors of cameras or anyhing like that, so there's hardly any family photos. It's weird thinking that people don't have their baby pictures, but then it doesn't seem like there's so much resistance to time here. Anyway, Ceci hasn't been to Iquitos to see her family in 3 years and hasn't even met her nephew, so I told the family that I'd photograph them so that she could see everyone. They took it all pretty seriously, washing, putting on nicer clothes than normal, etc. The mom made sure that I waited around to take pictures of her son that was at work and then come back to take pictures of her husband. Her husband showed up much later. I guess he works as a guard somewhere because he showed up with military boots and pants and a shirt with some kind of government logo (all well-worn and dirty). Despite his serious demeanor, he made me feel welcome. When he talked it almost seemed like he was showing off his grey teeth which were completely outlined in gold. A lot of people have that here. I guess it keeps cavities out while looking totally badass. He asked me my name and said that his brother's name is also Augusto. Then, he told me his name is "Segundo. Segundo Pacaya." No doubt one of the most badass names I've heard, but his saying it made it that much more so. When he got there, it was almost night, so we went outside where there was some more light. A big crowd of neighbors came out and stood around watching the couple get their picture taken. I printed out some of the better ones to give them.
I was only there 6 days, but made some good friends that I will stay in touch with. Ceci's family invited me to stay with them when I come back, but I can't even imagine where all of them sleep when night falls on that little house.
I never did end up doing much out-doorsey jungle stuff... but whatever. leave that to the foreigners who come all the way down here to keep themselves as separate as possible from the people who live here.
There are more photos up on my photobucket. The address is in a past blog entry.
Tonight at 2:30am it's back to Santiago. I was going to go by bus, but then Ursula couldn't for some reason. Also, I'm barely free of this infirmity and it'd be a terrible idea to start some giant odyssey in this condition. I will live in a cool house with some mexican friends.
hope all is well in california.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
I arrived here in Iquitos last night. I wanted to come by land, but it would have been a 24-hour bus ride followed by four days of boating down the amazon... had i a lot more time this option could have been fun, but then again it could have just been hell. I may like adventure, but I´m no Henry Morton Stanley. besides, i already have lots of bussing ahead what with the trip back to santiago. Lan had a promotion on a round-trip ticket here and i found a place to stay for $6 a night, so i cleared out.
Iquitos, despite being a pretty big city, is not connected by highway to the rest of south america. It is isolated by jungle and rivers, so the only way to get here is by boat or plane. It is basically an island, surrounded by huge rivers, including the amazon. There are hardly any cars here, seeing as they are hard to bring in. the transportation consists of motorcycles and motorcyles convirted into three-wheeled sketchy taxis. Everything is super cheap. yesterday I had a quarter roast chicken, mountain of rice, fried plantains, salad, and this weird purple corn drink that they make all for under $3. They make all sorts of different hot sauces here, most of which are super good.
Edith's maid's niece, Ceci, who comes over most days, was born in Iquitos and most all her family is here. She gave me their address and some photos of her graduation to give to them. This morning I took the photo album, got in/on a moto taxi and told him the address. We ended up going well outside the center of the city and towards the river banks where the buildings are wooden with thatched roofs and constructed on stilts for the flood season. close to there, in a little funky brick house with a dirt floor, I found Ceci's sister-in law and her son of 4 months. Everyone else was out. She took me to see Ceci's mom, who sells fish. They were very happy to meet me and recieve the photos, and invited me to come over later. When I came back there was lots of family- more than I could imagine all living in that little house. Her borther has a motorcycle and gave me a tour of the area. We were eating some barbecued cow hearts by the docks and met one of his friends who has a boat and offered to take me, for a small price, on a river trip to see some wildlife, including this type of pink river dolfin that everyone here talks about (there's even a statue of one in the city). The whole family made me very welcome and invited to me come back. I'll take some pictures for Ceci, seeing as she barely ever gets to come visit, and hasn't even met her little nefew.
The place I'm staying is all anglophones with nylon zip-off pants, bandanas and tank-tops. I must have been absent the day when all of the backpackers recieved their uniforms. Pretty much everyone I talked to there has tried or is planning to try this hallucinogenic herb that grows here. I'm sorry, but if some guy calling himself a shaman is selling drugs to whatever foreign stranger desperate for an authentic jungle experience, he's no shaman... he's just a native dude looking to make a buck. This one girl from ashland said that, while her borther 'kind of saw something,' the only effect she reaped was waking up in the middle of the night and, in a hurry to get out of her tent and vomit, tripped and got a gnarly black eye. I think the jungle is far-out enough without the help of mind and stomach-altering herbs, thanks anyway.
Iquitos, despite being a pretty big city, is not connected by highway to the rest of south america. It is isolated by jungle and rivers, so the only way to get here is by boat or plane. It is basically an island, surrounded by huge rivers, including the amazon. There are hardly any cars here, seeing as they are hard to bring in. the transportation consists of motorcycles and motorcyles convirted into three-wheeled sketchy taxis. Everything is super cheap. yesterday I had a quarter roast chicken, mountain of rice, fried plantains, salad, and this weird purple corn drink that they make all for under $3. They make all sorts of different hot sauces here, most of which are super good.
Edith's maid's niece, Ceci, who comes over most days, was born in Iquitos and most all her family is here. She gave me their address and some photos of her graduation to give to them. This morning I took the photo album, got in/on a moto taxi and told him the address. We ended up going well outside the center of the city and towards the river banks where the buildings are wooden with thatched roofs and constructed on stilts for the flood season. close to there, in a little funky brick house with a dirt floor, I found Ceci's sister-in law and her son of 4 months. Everyone else was out. She took me to see Ceci's mom, who sells fish. They were very happy to meet me and recieve the photos, and invited me to come over later. When I came back there was lots of family- more than I could imagine all living in that little house. Her borther has a motorcycle and gave me a tour of the area. We were eating some barbecued cow hearts by the docks and met one of his friends who has a boat and offered to take me, for a small price, on a river trip to see some wildlife, including this type of pink river dolfin that everyone here talks about (there's even a statue of one in the city). The whole family made me very welcome and invited to me come back. I'll take some pictures for Ceci, seeing as she barely ever gets to come visit, and hasn't even met her little nefew.
The place I'm staying is all anglophones with nylon zip-off pants, bandanas and tank-tops. I must have been absent the day when all of the backpackers recieved their uniforms. Pretty much everyone I talked to there has tried or is planning to try this hallucinogenic herb that grows here. I'm sorry, but if some guy calling himself a shaman is selling drugs to whatever foreign stranger desperate for an authentic jungle experience, he's no shaman... he's just a native dude looking to make a buck. This one girl from ashland said that, while her borther 'kind of saw something,' the only effect she reaped was waking up in the middle of the night and, in a hurry to get out of her tent and vomit, tripped and got a gnarly black eye. I think the jungle is far-out enough without the help of mind and stomach-altering herbs, thanks anyway.
Monday, February 11, 2008
After almost four years, I am once again in the City of Kings (Lima). It's good to see the folks that I know here. Though I never forgot how dirty, funky and empoverished the city is, it still shocks me. I went to the beach with Sara and some of her friends. Along the way we passed miles of crazy little shacks built directly onto dust dunes... maybe they're technically sand dunes, but there's a thik layer of dust all over everything everywhere. I can't imagine how these people live. There didn't appear to be any signs of plumbing or electricity, or even a decent pathway to ascend the giant dunes to one's home. It seems that there's no natural vegetation anywhere in the region. any place where people haven't planted grass or shrubs is just barren grey dust. This includes all the mountains surrounding the city, too. Every surface in the city is coated with a mix of naturally occuring dust and soot from all the cars, which have no sort of fume regulations. Almost anyone you see in the street is filthy, with exceptions for people who work in offices.
Today I took a walk after lunch to go see some ruins that I had noticed earlier a few blocks from the house (this place is covered in pre-colombian ruins). Some guy watering the flowers said that I couldn't get inside the fence because they weren't done with the excavation. I still got to check them out from a few meters away, though. A sign said that they were from around 1200 A.D. It's cool to see what folks were building here during the same era as notre dame in europe. Afterwords I started walking down an avenue that kept getting increasingly shady and industrial until it ended with wherehouses and little bars filled with filthy drunken people in terrible physical condition. The neighborhood was dominated by a big dusty hill covered in miserable dwellings with seemingly no access. I was already getting sketched out by being so notable as a tall, blonde white guy. People get all silent as a walk by. One crazy old drunkard stumbled out and tried to say something in english to me. As soon as I made the mistake of acknowledging him, a crowd started forming. Some people wanted to know if I was a journalist because they couldn't imagine what else I'd possibly be doing there. The bartender, after offering to introduce me to her daughter, pointed to the nearest direct street out of there and said that I should leave before I was assaulted. I quickly took her advice.
I met up with Ursala, who is from Lima and here visitng her dad. We went out with a couple of her friends in the little town in which she grew up outside of Lima. She and I will return to Santiago together via Bus. We are planning on it taking a little over a week.
A couple days ago I went to a birthday party of one of Edith's friends. True to the latin party spirit, after about an hour of polite conversation they all got up and tarted dancing to reggaeton, cumbia, merengue and salsa. An old lady there was telling me that I needed to practice dancing in order to meet lots of women. After talking with her a while I learned that she was born in the jungle region of peru in 1915. I said that I couldn't imagine how life must have been in the peruvian jungle early in the 20th century. Without thinking about it, she replied that it was 'comfortable.' She elaborated that the quality of life was better- especially the food.
Tomorrow I will go see the jungle for myself. I wanted to go by land, but a girl who's from the city that I want to go to, Iquique, said that it takes 5 or 6 days to get there, considering that one must go a lot of the way in boat. I found a cheap flight and a hostel that costs $5 a night. I have malaria pills and have been vaccinated for yellow fever, so I ought to be ok.
Today I took a walk after lunch to go see some ruins that I had noticed earlier a few blocks from the house (this place is covered in pre-colombian ruins). Some guy watering the flowers said that I couldn't get inside the fence because they weren't done with the excavation. I still got to check them out from a few meters away, though. A sign said that they were from around 1200 A.D. It's cool to see what folks were building here during the same era as notre dame in europe. Afterwords I started walking down an avenue that kept getting increasingly shady and industrial until it ended with wherehouses and little bars filled with filthy drunken people in terrible physical condition. The neighborhood was dominated by a big dusty hill covered in miserable dwellings with seemingly no access. I was already getting sketched out by being so notable as a tall, blonde white guy. People get all silent as a walk by. One crazy old drunkard stumbled out and tried to say something in english to me. As soon as I made the mistake of acknowledging him, a crowd started forming. Some people wanted to know if I was a journalist because they couldn't imagine what else I'd possibly be doing there. The bartender, after offering to introduce me to her daughter, pointed to the nearest direct street out of there and said that I should leave before I was assaulted. I quickly took her advice.
I met up with Ursala, who is from Lima and here visitng her dad. We went out with a couple of her friends in the little town in which she grew up outside of Lima. She and I will return to Santiago together via Bus. We are planning on it taking a little over a week.
A couple days ago I went to a birthday party of one of Edith's friends. True to the latin party spirit, after about an hour of polite conversation they all got up and tarted dancing to reggaeton, cumbia, merengue and salsa. An old lady there was telling me that I needed to practice dancing in order to meet lots of women. After talking with her a while I learned that she was born in the jungle region of peru in 1915. I said that I couldn't imagine how life must have been in the peruvian jungle early in the 20th century. Without thinking about it, she replied that it was 'comfortable.' She elaborated that the quality of life was better- especially the food.
Tomorrow I will go see the jungle for myself. I wanted to go by land, but a girl who's from the city that I want to go to, Iquique, said that it takes 5 or 6 days to get there, considering that one must go a lot of the way in boat. I found a cheap flight and a hostel that costs $5 a night. I have malaria pills and have been vaccinated for yellow fever, so I ought to be ok.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
I put up a few new mixed photos of Brazil and Colombia. Come and see for yourself at:
http://s200.photobucket.com/albums/aa10/gusinchile/
http://s200.photobucket.com/albums/aa10/gusinchile/
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Pirenopolis was fun. the crazy guys i was staying with took me all around in their 1970 volkswagon beetle, whose only mode of ignition was pushing, as its key had been lost of broken years before and its hot-wire cables relied on a battery that really didn't have the umph. nonetheless, once started, the car went anywhere. they took me to a swimming spot that required driving on roads through hills in the wilderness that didn't look fit for anything but a horse; yet that car only required our getting out and pushing once. I had the honor of driving it around at night on the colonial-era stone roads while its owner laughed and yelled 'é um tank de guerra, velho! te falei!'
today Mare and i met up with her friend who took us through a favela. she works as a nurse in a small hospital there and knows people inside, so we were ok to go in. i guess it was about what i expected of a brazilian favela. i got my hair cut there. afterwords they took me to meet Mare's great-grandmother who will complete 100 years in June. she was one of the coolest people i've met. she was much more awake and sharp than a lot of young people i know, telling stories, asking after members of her family, and telling me about her past. she came over from italy when she was 16 to work on a farm, got married at 17 and had her first baby when she was 18. On this trip I've gotten to meet a lot of interesting people inhabiting very different realities.
I went with Mare to her church last night... not catholic, however. I guess there's a large evangelical population here, despite brazil being the largest catholic country in the world. it was a new experience for me. the women and men enter at different doors and sit on different sides of the church, and the women must wear white veils on their heads. in the front, some men bring in instruments to play along with the hymns... i hate to be a music snob, but it was pretty out of hand. sometimes you cold pick up a melody. the service had a pretty tight program to stick to, but the parts were very interesting to see. one part, in which everyone was to pray aloud for about 15 minutes, was dominated by this guy sitting infront of me who started shouting praise to the lord and kept going for a much longer time than i thought possible, considering that it seemed like improv. finally old ladies started to stand up to see who it was. when he finally made a pause everyone shouted amen at once and the minister quickly continued to the next part of the program which was a finger-wagging/waving/pointing preacher. and the end the orchestra, comprised of a few saxophones, violins, valve trombone, and euphonium got another chance to play through all their rests.
são paulo is the largest of any city i've ever been to. one drives for miles and is still in the middle of skyscrapers as far as the eye can see. if i'm not mistaken, it's the third largest city in the americas behind mexico's federal district and new york city. I'm glad that I came back here, because there's a lot of culture to see, and Mare's family and friends are super nice.
today Mare and i met up with her friend who took us through a favela. she works as a nurse in a small hospital there and knows people inside, so we were ok to go in. i guess it was about what i expected of a brazilian favela. i got my hair cut there. afterwords they took me to meet Mare's great-grandmother who will complete 100 years in June. she was one of the coolest people i've met. she was much more awake and sharp than a lot of young people i know, telling stories, asking after members of her family, and telling me about her past. she came over from italy when she was 16 to work on a farm, got married at 17 and had her first baby when she was 18. On this trip I've gotten to meet a lot of interesting people inhabiting very different realities.
I went with Mare to her church last night... not catholic, however. I guess there's a large evangelical population here, despite brazil being the largest catholic country in the world. it was a new experience for me. the women and men enter at different doors and sit on different sides of the church, and the women must wear white veils on their heads. in the front, some men bring in instruments to play along with the hymns... i hate to be a music snob, but it was pretty out of hand. sometimes you cold pick up a melody. the service had a pretty tight program to stick to, but the parts were very interesting to see. one part, in which everyone was to pray aloud for about 15 minutes, was dominated by this guy sitting infront of me who started shouting praise to the lord and kept going for a much longer time than i thought possible, considering that it seemed like improv. finally old ladies started to stand up to see who it was. when he finally made a pause everyone shouted amen at once and the minister quickly continued to the next part of the program which was a finger-wagging/waving/pointing preacher. and the end the orchestra, comprised of a few saxophones, violins, valve trombone, and euphonium got another chance to play through all their rests.
são paulo is the largest of any city i've ever been to. one drives for miles and is still in the middle of skyscrapers as far as the eye can see. if i'm not mistaken, it's the third largest city in the americas behind mexico's federal district and new york city. I'm glad that I came back here, because there's a lot of culture to see, and Mare's family and friends are super nice.
Friday, January 25, 2008
I left Brasilia and arrived here in Pirenópolis after a 3 hour bus ride. I sort of wished the ride was longer because i was enjoying the landscape. It's a pretty little town built in the 1700's (by lots of poorly-treated slaves) during a gold rush here in the state of Goiás. Despite having spent a month in Brazil, I've only been in large cities, so it's nice to have a few rural days before going back to São Paulo. At my hostel the lady tried to get me to take a private room instead of the comunal one. I was looking forward to meeting some other people (and saving some $) so i turned her down... only to realize that I was the only one at the hostel, so it really made no difference. Fortunately she has two crazy sons who i've been hanging out with. There's hardly any tourists here right now because of a yellow fever outbreak in the area that's been all over the news in recent weeks. Not too many people have died, but it's enough to scare away lots of people. I've had my vaccination, so I'm not at risk... and malaria is only up north in the amazon region.
Brazilians love waterfalls... well, who doesn't like waterfalls, really? but no, they're all about waterfalls here. Any place you go to, they want you to see waterfalls. all the turist places all filthy with posters of waterfalls. the first thing they tell you about is their abundancy of waterfalls (after asking you if you've been vaccinated for yellow fever). i guess i'll take a hike later and see a few.
Brazilians love waterfalls... well, who doesn't like waterfalls, really? but no, they're all about waterfalls here. Any place you go to, they want you to see waterfalls. all the turist places all filthy with posters of waterfalls. the first thing they tell you about is their abundancy of waterfalls (after asking you if you've been vaccinated for yellow fever). i guess i'll take a hike later and see a few.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Said goodbye to chelsea yesterday at the bus terminal in são paulo. shes going to the northeast, so it wasn't really worth my while to go back to rio for two days. the bus took a full three hours to finally get onto the highway out of sao paulo. i guess that's to be expected in the third largest metropolitan region in the americas at rush hour. all told it took about 16 hours to get the the terminal in brasilia. despite the crying baby, foul bathroom an lack of air conditioning, the trip really wasn't that bad. i had a good book and even slept some. luiza said that the family car was occupied, so i' have to take a taxi to her house. i tried asking the smelly, but seemingly friendly old man next to me how much a taxi should cost to luiza's neighborhood, but we could barely understand eachother and gave up. i'm always wary of taxi drivers, so when i finally got to brasilia i asked a guy in the terminal if there was a bus that woul take me where i needed to go. it turned out he was a classical guitarist picking up a peruvian pianist an they were going to the same part of the city as i, so they offered to take me. his car had taken a beating- according to him it was the result of some sort of jealous girlfriend sitatuation. i was thankful for the ride, so i didn't mind brushing some broken glass off the seat. on the way we stopped at his work to pick something up, and he took me inside to meet his co workers. i guess he does autopsies for the police or something because there were a couple pretty grisley looking corpses laying around on operating beds inside that showed signs of untimely death... kind of startling early in the morning, but, once again, i was thankful for the ride.
luiza and her distractlingly beautiful friend showed me around brasilia today. it's one of the wildest looking cities i've seen. i guess back in the 50's they planned the whole thing out an just constructed it in the center of the country where there was nothing but wilderness. i'd seen pictures of some of the architecture before, but seeing it in person is really impressive. it's like a 50's idealised futuristic city in marble... but outside of the center it's just apartment buildings on roads with letters and numbers instead of names.
in a few days we'll go to ouro preto to celebrate carnaval. supposedly it's one of the best carnivals in brazil. the city looks pretty cool in photos... colonial and everything.
são paulo was really fun. chelsea's friends are complete badasses. the dialect down there was really clear. i had no problem conversing. here, however, it's back to not being able to unerstand a damn thing anyone's saying. it's frusterating, but i guess this is how one learns languages...
florianopolis was incredible as well. we met up with some locals and had wild times.
hope all is well in the US. i've barely gotten homesick my whole time away, but there's times when it sinks in... like last night the bus stopped at a rest area and while i was walking around i had a lonley moment when i considered that i was alone at 4 in the morning somewhere in the interior of brazil... but generally my time on the roa in south america has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. i've found myself in countless amazing situations... lamentably, they don't en up on the blog, but rest assured that they're happening.
luiza and her distractlingly beautiful friend showed me around brasilia today. it's one of the wildest looking cities i've seen. i guess back in the 50's they planned the whole thing out an just constructed it in the center of the country where there was nothing but wilderness. i'd seen pictures of some of the architecture before, but seeing it in person is really impressive. it's like a 50's idealised futuristic city in marble... but outside of the center it's just apartment buildings on roads with letters and numbers instead of names.
in a few days we'll go to ouro preto to celebrate carnaval. supposedly it's one of the best carnivals in brazil. the city looks pretty cool in photos... colonial and everything.
são paulo was really fun. chelsea's friends are complete badasses. the dialect down there was really clear. i had no problem conversing. here, however, it's back to not being able to unerstand a damn thing anyone's saying. it's frusterating, but i guess this is how one learns languages...
florianopolis was incredible as well. we met up with some locals and had wild times.
hope all is well in the US. i've barely gotten homesick my whole time away, but there's times when it sinks in... like last night the bus stopped at a rest area and while i was walking around i had a lonley moment when i considered that i was alone at 4 in the morning somewhere in the interior of brazil... but generally my time on the roa in south america has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. i've found myself in countless amazing situations... lamentably, they don't en up on the blog, but rest assured that they're happening.
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