Back in the U.S. of A

I did it. I got on the plane and left Brazil.  After 24 hours of travel I have arrived in Tucson, Arizona.  I am already grateful to my friends in the US- phone conversations and gchats already today have made me excited to see everyone and have made my return easier.  Tomorrow I depart for Portland, Oregan for a wedding of an old friend, then off to Seattle and Yosemite to end my summer with some of the most beautiful places in the US.  It is hard to believe that the semester will begin in two and a half weeks, but perhaps it is better not to dwell on that.  I will keep writing in this blog until the semester starts and then…well we will have to see if I have anything blog worthy to say during the semester.  Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.  

Saying Goodbye to Brazil...Again

Cachoeira de Sossego

Poco Azul (Sunlight reflecting on the water in the cave makes that color)

Cachaca at Fazendinha with Cica and Maysa

A beach in Salvador

Itana & I at the beach drinking agua de coco

My nine last days in Brazil were full and memorable.  If anything I was reminded that I have a life here, which means that leaving Brazil is not just leaving a place that I enjoy visiting, but it’s leaving that life behind.  Yes, I am quite aware that I have a life waiting for me in Tucson, Arizona: wonderful friends, family a short flight away, and oh yes a PhD program to complete.  But when I think of how I spend my days in Brazil, it is hard to not long for one life over the other:  Early morning capoeira classes filled with laughter (and a little bit of pain); hours spent at the farmer’s market, drinking juice and coffee and chatting with friends long after I’ve purchased my vegetables; almost daily baths in the river and the conversations with people I run into there; hearing music I love everywhere I turn; spending time with old friends and new friends, working on my research and drawing strength from the women with whom I speak; dancing; running; being outside 90% of my hours awake; day hikes to magnificently beautiful places; discovering new things about people and places everyday; feeling completely like myself even without understanding why that happens here; having people rely on me and relying on people in return. 

My last week and a half in Brazil was a celebration of my life here and left me wanting more.  I was able to spend time with my friends, hike to a waterfall I’ve always wanted to visit, dance forro in Lençois and samba beachside in Salvador, and eat in abundance all my favorite Brazilin dishes.  I spent six nights in a row out with different groups of friends sending me off.  Saying goodbye to some people was very difficult.  My closest friend Katia is seven months pregnant and having a difficult pregnancy on top of a very stressful life, or because of the stressful life.  She has grown to depend on me for emotional support and I foresee many skype phone calls to Brazil in my future until this baby is born safe and sound.  Saying goodbye to she and her family I once again had the sensation that I was leaving a little piece of my heart behind with them, just like I leave a little piece when I say goodbye to my family in the United States, just like I left a little piece in Senegal years ago.  When I described this sensation to a Portuguese friend she said this, “Your heart grows every time you take these people into your life and so you have pieces to spare; it will grow again.”  I liked that idea and will carry that imagery with me as I return to the United States.

I created a little prayer for myself my last day at the river and I hope to use it to ground myself when I am in the depths of graduate school madness: May the peace and happiness I feel here [the river] remain with me always.  I wish the same for everyone in my life and like to think that we can be each other’s “rivers” as well.  Getting on the plane will be harder than I’d like it to be, but I will carry Brazil back with me to the states, try to incorporate a little more of my Brazilian life into my American one, and make the most of being a continent closer to my family and friends.

 

Wrapping Up My Research...But Just For Now

I just completed my 19th and final interview of the summer, although the informal conversations and discussions will continue. I feel content with the "data" I have collected and have some definite themes to focus on in my thesis. However, I feel like I am still just skimming the surface. I am certain that I will be returning here to do my disseration research and with it beginning to develop programs with a couple of the community organizations with whom I have been speaking. I feel like I am very settled here and have everything in place to start my dissertation research and work with these organizations....so leaving in one week is really disapointing. I just have to be confidant that the foundation I have created in the last seven weeks and over the last three years will be here to some extent when I return. I also know when to say "when," and I´ve decided to spend my last week here not running around trying to get a few more interviews, but instead visiting with friends, going on some of my favorite hikes that I haven´t had time to do, and reflecting on everything I´ve learned this summer about my research and about myself. Somehow I know that these reflections will bring far more questions than answers. But who needs answers anyway. I have so much to say about my research that I want to share...but I am going to hold off on discussing it here until I have processed it a little more.

O Dia Fora de Tempo (The Day Outside of Time)

Every person has moments in their life that are memorable, sometimes for good reasons sometimes for bad ones. If one is lucky they have several positive memorable moments stored in their brains, waiting to be shared when the right question is asked or a person is willing to listen. In my thirty years of living I have become one of the lucky few with several happy, memorable moments. Now I have another one to add to the memory bank…

In the late 19th century and early 20th when diamond mining was a booming vocation, Barro Branco was a town. Now this village, about 7 kilometers from Lençois and 400 meters above it in altitude, has no more than 20 houses and is enveloped in thick forest. Remnants of stone houses and walls peak through the shrubbery, reminders of the loss that accompanied the collapse of the diamond industry in this area. Some acquaintances of mine who live in Barro Branco decided that it was the perfect place to celebrate the Dia Fora de Tempo (Day Outside of Time). According to the Mayan calendar, the year ended on Friday and but the new year started on Sunday. Thus last Saturday was not located in time, which made it a day worthy of a celebration. Though I don’t follow the Mayan calendar I like the woods and I like a forro party, so I went with a small group of friends to dance, camp and get away from the “city.”

The site of the festivities was an area similar to a town square (if there was a town to have a square). The residents built a small stone stage for the band, set up wooden benches, a fire pit, and a small area for a food and beverage vendor. No electricity in Barro Branco, the area was lit by candles and lanterns taking us back to festas of the past where the light from a fire and candles guided both musicians and dancers through an evening of blissful revelry. The night sky was clear, making the stars and chesire cat grin of a moon completely visible and magnificent.

As people arrived my friends and I snacked on an acarajé (typical snack food of Bahia), shared a cold beer and commented on the fact that a practically deserted village in the middle of the woods was a perfect place to celebrate a day removed from time. When the four-man forro band began playing its “forrosinho” (“little forro”; ie. more traditional forro) it occurred to me that this could quite possibly be the last forro festa under the stars I would be attending for a long time. And so I danced. I danced to fast tempos (one-one, one-one), medium tempos (one-two, one-two), and slow tempos (one-hip sway; two-hip sway). I tried to dance samba when the samba band arrived. I danced more forro when the forro band came back on stage. I danced for five hours straight. When a set of simple fireworks went off above the couples on the dance floor I realized the day outside of time was over and a new year had begun. I couldn’t imagine a better way to start a new year and I especially liked the chance that I was getting a second “new year” in 2009. Past 2:00 am, when the band members continued to play for an audience of weary but content listeners, my dance partner and I were the only ones still dancing, enjoying ourselves and entertaining the spectators.

The simplicity of a party with no electricity, at the end of a dirt road, in the hills of Brazil, where the music, company and beautiful, cool night are the only draws was striking. I found myself looking in from the outside and realized that at that moment I was experiencing the Brazil that people hear so often about, and that tour packages try so hard to construct, but that is becoming increasingly rare in a rapidly modernizing society. I am so thankful for my night of forro under the stars; for the friends I’ve made in Brazil that accompany me to parties and dance with me until 2:30am; for the health that lets me dance; and for the musicians who play, and play and play just because…

I tried twice to post photos to this entry and both times the site crashed....so hopefully my description is enough to satisfy my more visually orientated readers.

The Rio Lencois And I

Enjoying the lower part of the Rio Lencois

Often in my posts I refer to my breaks at the river.  The river I refer to is the Rio Lencois, which descends from the hills surrounding the town and runs through it.  The upper part of the river (about a 45 minutes hike away) is home to the 3 waterfalls and several lovely swimming areas.  I spend more time at the mid and lower section of the river; an area called Serrano.  It is only a 15 minute walk from my house, and I usually run into someone I know to converse with while I am there. The Serrano is popular not only for it's proximity to the town, but also because there are deep holes for jumping, short cascades of water (perfect for hydro-massages), and a nice view of the city.  The truth behind the holes/pools is that they were created when the river was dynamited for diamond mining.  Unfortunately, that takes away a bit from the magic of the place for me, but it doesn't make it any less beautiful, any less restorative, any less one of my favorite places.  When I encounter Brazilian travelers in Lencois they ask  me why I want to live here.  I point them to the river and say, "How many cities are a 15 minute walk to a waterfall?  

The Lencois natives say that one should go to the river as much as possible because it has powerful energy, that the rocks and water have the ability to rejuvenate and heal.  From my experience here what they say is completely true and I can only hope that I can continue carrying that energy with me when I leave here in 2 weeks.

The mid-section of the Rio Lencois; view from the path from town.

Looking down river to the town of Lencois.

One of the deep holes in the river that are perfect for jumping!

My favorite spot in Serrano; mini cascades and more deep holes (hidden) for bathing and jumping.

Let Me Ramble For A Bit

Photos of the Weekly Market

This morning I awoke to the sound of rhythmic pounding of metal on stone. There was a man outside breaking up the large, flat rocks that make up my road with a sledgehammer and metal rod. Word on the street (literally, what people on the street below my window were saying) is that they are trying to make the road accessible to cars. First step is to break up the rocks that have been our road until now. I am not sure what the second step will be, and can’t imagine it will happen quickly because the first step seems like such a huge undertaking for one, very strong man.

It’s in moments like these that I remember that I come from another world. A world where a crew of ten men getting paid twenty-five dollars an hour work on roads using heavy machinery (also a very tough job). A country, where 95% of the population can’t imagine not being able to access their houses by car. What is interesting is that the people in this neighborhood don’t mind that cars can’t reach their houses (and neither do I), especially since they don’t have cars. Their uphill walk will continue to be part of their daily lives even as cars are able to pass by them on the road. Just this morning I ran into a friend on my way into the center of town, her hands were full of heavy groceries and she was starting the steady climb to her house. Her road is in terrible condition and even difficult to maneuver walking. I can’t help but wonder why one road is being made available for cars while another is not even suitable for walking. This seems to be a pattern I’ve witnessed elsewhere- infrastructure as a sign of progress, of a city’s achievement. But the who, what, when, and where of how these projects are selected remains a complete mystery to me, and who they benefit in the long run an even greater mystery. The town has a newly elected mayor, a “nativo” of Lençois, who is eager to demonstrate that he is a man of the people. Perhaps projects such as these are his way of visibly demonstrating his ability to make change. Ironic since he seems to be cutting funding to the health posts; one area where an increase in funding is very needed. But now I am ranting.

This blog entry was intended to be about the small things that keep me engaged and fulfilled on a daily basis in this town: Accordion players at my favorite spot playing Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” along with traditional music from the northeast. Card games with the young men in my Brazilian “family” where I, the only female invited to play, surprise them by never losing (loser of each hand drinks a shot of cachaça). On a rainy day, when the rain suddenly changes from a drizzle to a downpour, running into a small restaurant and the wonderful two hour conversation I end up having with the woman working there. Playing capoeira- part martial art, part dance- and moving my body to the rhythm of the berimbau. Stopping three times in the distance of one block to greet and chat with people, never in any rush to get to the next place. Buying bread freshly baked at my favorite bakery and trying to ignore the delicious donut like guava pastry for sale. Going to the weekly market where the colors, sounds and smells of the fresh produce are a treat for three senses. Feeling at peace, healthy and happy and not being able to explain exactly why.

All that said, while life here is ideal for me I am completely aware that that is not the case for everyone, and that is the most unfortunate thing about this town. Spending time with friends who are “nativos,” listening to the interviews I’ve done, and doing new interviews I know that life is far from perfect for most of the natives of Lençois. I acknowledge that the fact that I come here with enough money to live comfortably, though modestly, allows me an almost stress free existence where I can enjoy the beauty of this town and it’s people. Moreover, because there is an entire population of people in this town from other parts of Brazil who have the same comfortable lifestyle I have, I feel less plagued with guilt. But I am aware that once again I am extremely fortunate and lucky. My only consolation is that the research I am doing does mean something to the women with whom I am working and I am more determined than ever to produce something in Portuguese to be able to share with them.

I apologize that this entry was more random and incoherent than normal, but these are the things on my mind at this moment and thus the things I want to share.

Birthday Bliss

Before I describe the great birthday I had on the fourth, I thought I would respond to some inquiries I’ve received into the nightlife in Lençois. The center of Lençois consists of two main cobblestone streets, each about one block long, which intersect each other and end in two fairly large town squares. Both the streets and squares are lined with restaurants and shops. One street is closed off completely to cars after 6pm, and all the restaurants put out tables and chairs into the street and double as bars. One of my favorite places to hang out is a tiny restaurant on the larger square called Natora. Natora is owned by a friend of mine, has about 3 indoor tables and 6 outdoor ones, serves mud oven pizza, and is frequented by local guitar players. On any given night of the week I know that I can go there and run into at least a small group of people with whom I can spend the evening listening to guitar and conversing on subjects ranging from Michael Jackson’s death, Brazilian politics and the virility of Bahian men. I suppose in many ways the restaurants in Lençois mirror cafes in Europe, where ordering food is never required and sitting there for at least 3 hours is the norm.
My other favorite evening spot is also a restaurant but is much more known for serving sixty varieties of homemade cachaça (alcohol made from sugar cane but that tastes nothing like rum). Fazendinha is run by a family that makes cachaça on their farm and sells it to thirsty Lençois residents and tourists. My particular favorites are banana cachaça and chocolate cachaça. While the residents and tourists drink at Fazendinha, the Lençois “nativos” drink at the slightly less expensive, bare bones “barsinhos” (little bars). These closet size establishments consist of only a counter behind which the bar tender serves cold beer and plain cachaça. The clientele hang out on the street outside the bar watching as people make “volta”s (literally “turns”, figuratively “little tours”) of the two streets and squares, walking up and down the street to see and be seen.
On a Friday or Saturday night it is very easy to run into over half the people you know in town and when the bars close more or less at 1am there’s only one place to go- the town’s one night club Inferninho (Little Hell). In a town where the social division between Fazendinha and the “barsinhos” is representative of much more important dynamics, I enjoy going to Inferninho which is one of the only places where both worlds seem to converge. Inferninho is about 500 square feet, dimly lit and always hot. The DJ has an affection for bad house music, reggae and forro. On the evening of my birthday for example I danced to Prodigy, a house remix of a Beyonce song, Bob Marley and thankfully some forro. If there was another option I doubt anyone would choose to go to Inferninho, but as it is the only option Inferninho is usually full. So aside from the occasional privately sponsored party or town event that is the nightlife of Lençois, perhaps extremely lacking in options but not in enjoyment.
Having your birthday on the July 4th (Impendence Day in the US) is quite probably the best holiday birthday anyone could wish for. Almost everyone has the day off, is in a festive mood and is ready to celebrate. Plus, celebrating usually consists of a full day and evening outdoors with family and friends- what more could someone want for their birthday? Rather unfortunately, I have spent seven of the last eleven birthdays outside of the US, and though I am not complaining it is never really quite the same. This year however, I really did have a wonderful birthday here in Brazil. I was lucky enough to have my birthday fall on a Saturday so I decided for the low stress option of not planning a party and just counting on running into people at my favorite places. Friday night I skype-telephoned my parents and some other family and friends as a birthday treat for myself. Then I decided to commemorate the last hour of my 20s at Fazendinha. As expected I ran into a group of people who celebrated the start of my birthday with me and I ended up dancing at Inferninho until 3am. Saturday, my actual birthday, I slept in, made breakfast with my housemates and then spent the afternoon at the river with some friends. At the river I was struck by the fact that this is my reality, that for over ten years I’ve lived a live full of adventures and beauty, and that I am truly a lucky person. After the river I visited with my friend Katia and was surprised with a birthday cake made by my friend Cecilia’s little sister and mother. Then we went out to dinner to the restaurant in town that I save for special occasions and dined on absolutely delicious sweet potato gnocchi in a pesto sauce. I also treated myself to a dessert of homemade cardamom ice cream with a chocolate brownie. I then met up with the rest of my friends at Fazendinha where the entire bar sang me Happy Birthday. I find it pretty remarkable that I have been in town less than a month and yet people were so sweet about acknowledging my birthday. It seemed that almost everyone I know at least passed by the bar to wish me a happy birthday and the best for the future. I suppose that is yet another thing that makes Lençois so special. After closing Fazendinha down a smaller group of us moved the party to Inferninho where I stayed out dancing until 4am. There were no fireworks, grilled delights, pool parties or salsa dancing, but I felt quite content at the end of my birthday and am very ready for another remarkable decade.

Lencois & Chapada Sites

After writing that rather serious post, I thought it would be nice to follow up with something on the lighter side. So here are some photos I´ve taken around town and on some short half-day hikes close to town. If interviews and conversations with women make me feel heavy, then these hikes and walks to the river (and dancing) have the exact opposite affect, leaving me balanced and full of energy. I will have to remember to bring my camera when I go to the Rio Serrano (the river that runs through town and where I go to bathe almost every day) to take some photos there too. I am itching to do a 5 day trek but feel like I wont enjoy it until I have at least some more interviews under my belt.

Lencois

Lencois

Ribeirao du Meio

Rio Mucugezinho & Poco du Diabo

Tres Irmaos

Thoughts on my research....

Praying for the Festa to be over so I could sleep again.

This week saw the end of the Festa de São João and after 9 nights straight of dancing until anywhere from 2:00 am to 5:30am, I was decidedly ready for the festa to come to an end. Lençois has returned to relative peace and tranquility and I have definitely accomplished more on my research in the last three days than during the entire prior week (not that observing peoples’ interactions during a party isn’t research). I also decided to move into a house closer to the neighborhood where I am doing my interviews. Rather than a 20-30 minute walk away, I am now a neighborhood away. Yes, I loved my cute little apartment but I’ve been lucky enough to find a house that is not only closer to my research site, but is also in the center of town, a mere 10 minute walk to my favorite river spot, has a great veranda and view of the town, AND is half the price of the other place. Plus the house itself has a lot of character- large windows with wooden shutters, ceramic tiling, and high ceilings. The catch is I am sharing the 3-bedroom house with my friend’s boyfriend; he’s a climbing guide so he is often away, but I know I’ll miss having complete privacy.

I’ve done several interviews and have had a multitude of conversations surrounding the topics of relationships, separation and divorce. Every time I tell someone about my research they start telling me their story. Between both my informal conversations and the formal ones I am afraid I am starting to feel heavy with the weight of their stories and cynicism is creeping up on me. I have yet to meet someone who has not been separated or divorced, or who believes that lifelong love and commitment is possible anymore. The ultimate demise of the majority of the relationships here is spoken about as a matter of fact, yet every woman speaks of her disappointment, sadness and pain when her relationships come to an end. Most of the women I’ve spoken with talk about separation/divorce as a good thing. They consider it an example of an improvement in women’s rights and a testament to the fact that women “don’t have to just put up with it” anymore (it being anything from adultery, abuse, vagrancy, etc), and I agree. Yet none of them enjoy or enjoyed being single; thus, they are all seeking or have found another partner. In fact many of them have been married several times, each for a few years at a time. There is a somewhat sad irony to a situation where people who believe long lasting relationships are not possible continue to seek out relationships that will eventually hurt them; a true case of “it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” As I try to understand this and many other things I am discovering, I find myself wondering- is it possible for relationships to last happily, through good times and bad for as long as both people should live? Do we still live in a world where this is a reality?

I am grateful for the fact that in my life I have many examples of commitment and love, but what if you come from a community where those examples do not exist? Or, to play devil’s advocate, is the idea of being with one person your entire life outdated, unrealistic and unnecessary? Were these values constructed by a Western society that is changing so dramatically that they can no longer exist? What are the pros and cons to spending “the rest of your life” with the same person? I ask these questions and yet I hold onto the hope that it is possible. However, I acknowledge that my “hope” is itself a product of the society within which I was raised, and my romantic fantasy of finding a lifelong partner is the residue of movies, television, books and social memory. Ultimately I wonder this: are people happier coming from a society that believes in lifelong love and yearning for that, OR can one be equally happy completely confidant that this notion does not exist in reality, if it has never been part of their reality (just the sureality of telenovelas and movies)?

View from the veranda of my new house

View from the veranda of my new house

Conzinha Americana

I love the architecture of these old houses!

Old And New Friends

There are clear social divisions in Lencois. First, there are the "nativos", people who grew up in the Chapada (this region), work in the hotels, restaurants and as guides, and for the most part are the poorest people in Lencois. Second, you have the Lencois permanent residents who are from Sao Paulo, Rio and in some cases outside of Brazil; in the majority of cases they own and run the hotels, restaurants, stores and trek and tour agencies. On a daily basis I transition between the two groups.

Almost every day I spend several hours with my close friend Katia, her family and friends. When I came in 2006 these were my first friends, women my age and a little younger with families and challenges I’ve never had to face. They continue to be good friends, though Katia’s current pregnancy means our friendship is less about going out at night and more about hanging out during the day. These friendships are the basis of my research, something with which I continue to struggle. They know what my research is about and speak openly with me. Yet I still feel as if I am using them in some way. I think this comes from the fact that now when we talk about their problems, in the back of my mind I am thinking about writing up our conversation in my field notes or what anthropological theory would explain what they are telling me. It is difficult to separate myself from those thoughts. In the evening, I meet up with my friend Cecilia and a group of younger locals who unmarried and without children are able to go out when they leave their waitressing jobs at 11pm. These friendships do not have the depth (yet) of the ones I have with mothers my own age, but they are a lot of fun. I suppose that hanging out with 18-23 year olds could make me feel old, but it doesn’t.

The second group of acquaintances are all associated in some way with the inn I used to work at. They are successful, “alternative”-thinking Lencois residents from around Brazil. They’ve come to Lencois not only to run businesses but also to benefit from the beauty and energy of this place. In many ways I have the most in common with this group of people, enjoy spending time with them and our conversations are very interesting. Yet, the way they distance themselves from the nativos (and speak negatively about them) turns me off from becoming particularly close with any of them. They feel entitled to be in Lencois and yet do not have relationships, beyond work-related ones, with the locals. I sometimes feel like I am in an awkward position, as if I am supposed to joining one side or the other. But thankfully, no one else has made me feel that way and I am becoming more comfortable with the fact that I move between two very different worlds existing in the same, small city.

One last thing. I love that in Lencois you can find yourself standing on the same corner for an hour in the drizzling rain because you, or people you are with, keep running into people and no one is in a hurry to get to their destination. I also like that if you are walking with someone and talking that when it comes time to part ways they will actually continue with you, even if it takes them out of the way, just to continue the conversation. I love that.

Katia and I

Cecilia and I

Dancing Queens

Brunch at the Inn

Festa do São João

I have been in Lençois two weeks; two weeks which have given me plenty to write about. If the first week was marked by my settling in, getting adjusted, etc. this second week has been, and continues to be dominated by the Festa do São João. This yearly week long festival is less about remembering the life of Saint John the Baptist, and much more about celebrating “traditional” life in the rural interior of northeastern Brazil. Streamers and cardboard cutouts decorate the city. Brazilian tourists from Salvador, São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro descend on Lençois in their jeans and cowboy boots; clothes that haven’t been worn in this part of the interior for at least 20 years. Everyone is busy preparing traditional dishes using peanuts, cassava, and corn; these staple food items take me on a trip back to Senegal and I am once again reminded of the history between Brazil and Africa.

In the school week leading up to the holiday weekend children dressed as caipiras (country people or cowboys/girls) perform in quadrilhas- akin to square dancing but with every move containing a theatrical aspect. Charming as it appears the storylines do include such crowd favorites as “the conquest (man/boy trying to charm a woman/girl” and “the wife going to get her drunk husband at the bar and carrying him home.” Watching these “dances” being acted out by eight year olds is disconcerting, especially as they are mirrored in the life stories I am hearing from the women I interview. But I digress. When the holiday weekend arrived it became the adults turn to put on their costumes and dance in their quadrilhas and these performances occur in the early part of the evening and range from comedic (men dressed as cowgirls) to quasi-professional renditions of traditional dances.

The quadrilhas are followed by bands that start no earlier than 11pm and play a range of forro music on a 19th century outdoor stage until 3:30am. Vendors line the narrow, cobblestone streets around the stage selling everything from ice cold beers, fruit and cachaça mixes, hot wine with ginger and cinnamon, grilled beef or cheese and savory pastries. Traditional forro is played using an accordion, drum, and triangle; but modern forro has electrified it, includes guitar and has become popular all over the country. Forro reminds me of zydeco music from the southeastern U.S., or vallenato from Colombia. Put simply it is a two-step, but a two-step danced with no space between partners and with tempos ranging from impossibly slow to extremely fast. I love forro. I love backyard parties with a traditional four-man forro band, and I love large outdoor performances with loud cover bands playing the forro hits that I’ve been listening to on my ipod for the last 3 years. But alas, I fear that my forro dancing ability leaves a lot to be desired. The overachiever in me isn’t satisfied with hearing, “You dance forro very well for a gringa.” My main problem lies in this- every man has a different style, a different jeito (way) of dancing forro. I have one friend who insists on only dancing with the same two partners to avoid the problem of different dancing styles; I like to dance too much to wait to dance only with people I’ve danced with before. Locals dance forro very simply, one-two, one-two, side to side at different speeds to match the music, and that I manage quite well. Ironically the better dancers are from outside of the interior of Brazil and they switch up the tempos and rhythms within a dance quite frequently. As I am not yet fully accustomed to dancing with no breathing room between partners, never mind being lead through more complicated variations of the basic steps, I am sure I am a comedic sight on the dance floor. Oh well; in an effort to learn I have put in solid hours of practice staying out until 3:30am for the last four nights (hahaha). There are three more nights of the festa left and I intend to spend each of those nights mastering my forro skills. I start every evening exhausted but somewhere in the middle as I watch couples swirling around me, I am so content that I don’t feel tired, just inexplicably happy.

One town square decorated for the holidy.

Children´s Qadrilha

Cecilia and I posing with the "forro band."

Forro Party

My friends dancing forro.

Minha Casinha

View from apartment (above); The Kitchen

Eating/Working Area

The Bedroom

The French doors in the bedroom.

Has it really only been four days since I arrived in Lencois? I am experiencing the traveler’s time warp- time seems to be flying by and yet four days ago seems like a lifetime. When I think that this time last week I was leaving Maine and on my way to Boston, well then that adds to surreality of the week. In the last few days I have completed all the things that one does when rediscovering a place and simultaneously making themselves at home. In my case, that meant settling into my cute little apartment, going to the market, bathing in the wonderfully cold waters of the Rio Serrano, visiting friends and relatives of friends, having my first shot of cachaca, and dancing my first forro under the stars.

It feels strange having my own place; I am so used to the hustle and bustle of the inn or my friends’ houses that having a quiet space of my own throws me off a bit. Though I completely acknowledge that is what I need to actually get some work done on my thesis. The apartment is on the third floor of a house that is on the outskirts of the town. The stairs are not yet complete so I climb three wooden ladders to reach the apartment; a little tricky but nothing I can’t handle. The apartment is small but the two sets of French doors opening to a beautiful view of the mountains makes up for the space (not that I need anymore space). My kitchen table/work area is positioned alongside one set of French doors, so that when I sit at it in the morning eating my breakfast (papaya, mango and banana salad) I feel as though I am outside. It is winter here right now, which mean temperatures dip into the 60’s and 70’s at night, and in the morning it stays cloudy and cool until the sun breaks through at mid day. Even with doors and windows closed the thin brick walls do nothing to fliter out the sounds around me, roosters crowing in the morning, crickets and frogs at night, people awake and up much earlier than I, and the somewhat distant sounds of people reveling in the town center at the start of the Festa de São João. I can hear the river when the doors are open and it tempts me to leave my work behind, walk up the mountain 20 minutes and go for a swim. This is quickly returning to be my afternoon ritual, along with everyone else in town with an hour to spare. That is one of the things I enjoy the most about Lencois, people here appreciate and enjoy the natural beauty around them. I’ve been in so many places where locals do not frequent the places that tourists themselves travel hundreds of miles to vist, thus to be in a place where people go to the river every day is very refreshing (no pun intended).

Today the cowboys are coming to town, literally, and so I’m going to a potluck lunch and then spend the day listening to Brazilian cowboy music, drinking cervesa on the praça with a couple of friends, and finding peace and happiness in a simple, Sunday afternoon.