My trip to Brazil was uneventful but a tad bit exhausting. I somehow managed to only have 45 minutes between each of my flights and considering they were all on the late side, I did my fair share of terminal running (I knew there was a reason that lack of backpack space forced me to wear my running shoes to travel). I had a couple of interesting row partners. First, a Spanish guy who engaged me in conversation in Spanish when really I should have been avoiding speaking the language that has recently corrupted my Portuguese (I of course found out at the end of the flight that he lives in the United States and speaks perfectly fine English and only pretended not to because he “misses” speaking Spanish, ayaya). On my 9-hour red-eye flight, I found myself sandwiched between a middle-aged man and a young capoerista. Both came close to leaning their heads on my shoulders as they slept soundly the entire flight. I, on the other hand, forced myself to stay awake long enough to watch “Confessions of a Shopaholic,” which turned me into one of those people that laughs on flights when everyone else is trying to sleep. Oops.
Fast-forward 3 flights and 24 hours later and I landed in Salvador de Bahia, greeted by my friend Adriane who swept me off into the land of amazing hosting abilities. Before I knew it my bags were off my back, I was well fed, bathed and sitting on the couch forcing myself to stay awake until 8pm, which I deemed a safe hour to go to bed and not wake up in the middle of the night wide awake. Perhaps not a glorious, rock star reentry into Brazil, but let’s face it when you are so tired that you are unable to string together logical sentences in your native language, nevermind a language you haven’t spoken on a daily basis for two years, resigning yourself to staying in and watching tv for a couple of hours isn’t such a bad idea.
After sleeping 10 hours straight I got up to catch an early bus to Lencois. During the 6 hour drive I still managed to sleep on-and-off but when I was awake I noted that everything was a lot greener than I remembered. I’m not sure of this is due to my new life in the desert or the fact that I’ve come here previously during drier months. In any case, the green, lush landscape was a nice surprise. I will admit that when the bus turned onto the side road to Lencois I started feeling nervous. What if it wasn’t like I remembered? What if I wasn’t as happy there? What if my research failed and I had to change my entire dissertation project? As my nervousness threatened to turn into panic, the bus turned the final bend into the town and there Lencois was welcoming me once again. It is amazing how a place you’ve been to three times before can still strike you by its awe-inspiring beauty. Colorful houses nestled into green rolling hills, the Rio Serrano rushing through the center of town and the peaceful energy that comes from a place where no one is hurrying to get anywhere. My nerves disappeared, along with panic about my research; instead I wished I had come sooner and that I wouldn’t have to leave. Perhaps premature thinking, and I’m sure it will change several times in the next 2 months, but I prefer “I don’t want to leave” to “should I be here?” any day.
My friend Chris, the inn owner, was there to greet me at the bus stop and drive my stuff and I to his inn. There I was greeted by the same staff members who were working there when I left and escorted to one of the many rooms I had stayed in when I lived there in 2006. I was overwhelmed with an excitement to be back that I’d been waiting to hit me on the journey to Brazil, on my arrival in Salvador, and on the trip to Lencois. But it was in Lencois, when left alone in my room, that the urge to yell “Woohoo!” finally hit me. As I walked around town that afternoon it appeared that nothing had changed- some places had closed, some had opened. The town is busy preparing itself for the Festa de São João (the biggest holiday in northeastern Brazil) and so there was a lot of bustling about. I’m glad I will have ten days to get comfortable before people pour into town for the festivities. I’ll close out by saying that I spent the rest of my first day with my close friend Katia (who you will be hearing much more about) and her family, which was the final step in my [Brazilian] homecoming.
