Hi all,
Well, we did move into Don’s house, just me and Don so far, but Tania, Jim, Tania’s 12 yr old daughter, and the gerbil will be moving in this weekend. A new way of life, for all of us, I’m sure.
I cleaned out the maid’s room and put my stuff in there, just to get out of the way of everyone else, and then decided to go away. It’s very hot, was up to 36º C today, which is way too hot for me. So I went downtown and got on a bus going to Barra di Tijuca. The bus traveled a route along the beaches of Copacabana, and Ipanema, but the bus drivers drive like jockeys in a horse race, switching lanes and passing each other every chance they get. So do all the taxis and the Volkswagen vans (called combis), as do the maniacs on motorcycles, although all of the bikes are less than 200 cc.
As it was so hot, the bus’ air-conditioning wasn’t doing much, so everyone opened the windows … just so we could breathe bus exhaust!
There was one, two-minute stretch of the bus journey, traveling proximate to the ocean, which was lovely to behold. But then I noticed we were riding along on the top 2 lanes of a two-level freeway, built with a giant erector set. Just then we entered a tunnel; from then on, we drove along multi-lane freeways lined with strip malls, just like Florida. The grand finale was waiting in line to get through a 24-booth toll station. Then more freeways.
Surprisingly enough, the bus was on a circular route, so we ended up back in downtown Rio. For the price of one bus fare — all of 75 cents for 3 hours on the bus – I was given the grand tour of Rio de Janeiro!
This early into my sojourn to the southern hemisphere, I still haven’t found my bearings, particularly as it relates to downtown Rio. I get lost every single time. The streets don’t go in straight lines; they change their names every few blocks, and I can’t see far enough to locate buildings that I recognize. In respect of finding my way around Rio, I am slowly becoming resigned to the notion of being incapable and incompetent, if not downright idiotic. Such acceptance of my failings is probably “good for me”, I’m sure.
When in a “direction dilemma”, I just pull out my tattered map, try to locate where I am, and failing that, I ask the nearest policeman to show me where I am on the map. Or, I ask someone in which direction I might find Carioca Square, or Rio Branco, or some other landmark that is in the direction I want to go.
Finally, after much traveling around during the course of this sweltering day, I decided that it was time to eat something (there’s no fridge at the new house, and we haven’t yet learned how to light and use the hot water heater that is fastened to the shower and makes hottish water on demand) so eating is somewhat of a challenge — particularly in 36º C degree heat!
One of the few air-conditioned places I found had nothing on the menu that I could comprehend. Fortunately, I spotted a restaurant across the street that claimed to serve ‘churrasquirro’, which I thought would be the meat on the swords that they bring around to your table and carve off, as much as you can eat. It wasn’t, but it was still good (and a fun process to watch).
I sat down and ordered my mineral water ‘con gas’ (with bubbles) and the waiter brought me a plate and some silverware. Then, three different waiters brought around trays of various kinds of Italian food: spaghetti, lasagna, several kinds of pasta — with red sauce, white sauce, with beef, with chicken. If I said ‘sim’ (yes), the waiter would serve me a particular dish. If I said ‘nao’ (no), the waiter would pass me by. Very interesting, but I never got the roast beef on a sword. Maybe next time.
After gorging myself, the meal came to an end, or so I thought. My waiter didn’t think so, though, as he kept insisting that I try the banana pizza. I figured, “Why not”? The banana pizza was so good that I asked for another piece; baked bananas, or maybe bananas fried in butter, served with sugar and cinnamon. Delicious! Despite not having the faintest idea of what was dish would be served next I had a very pleasant and filling dinner, indeed.
Oh yes, in my forlorn wanderings around downtown today, I stumbled across a park and walked through it hoping for somewhat cooler temperatures (it was a tiny bit cooler). The interesting aspect of my meandering was all the ‘agoutis’ wandering around. I think that’s what they are. About the size of a cat, but looking much like a brown rat with black overtones, round ears, and no tail. Their hind legs seem to be longer, as their rear end is higher than the front. There must have been 100, or so, eating chopped up vegetables under the “Do not feed the animals” signs. Odd, like being in a science fiction story or something.
Last week I managed to find the Nacional Historic Museum. The Historic Museum’s collection was in better shape than what I had found earlier at the Nacional Museum. At the Historic Museum, there were lots of cannons and carriages, and many, many coins from all over the world, except no tooney from Canada. The air-conditioning was so cold that when I came out into the real world, my glasses steamed up from the heat!
Once outside, I spotted the Paco Imperial, a contemporary art gallery. Pretty avant-garde, and nothing I much cared for, as it happens. There was a 9 x 9 foot rug made from dominoes, and somewhat worse for wear Venetian blinds hanging from the ceiling. The best exhibit was the ladies washroom — the room had golden beach rocks scattered in drifts around the floor, and some in the sinks, too. I wasn’t sure if it was art or a bathroom. I didn’t dare go into the men’s room. Sorry.
Don’s house is on a back street, so there’s no bus and taxi traffic going by all day and most of the night, as was the case when we were living closer to downtown. Don’s neighbours do seem to have an odd tradition, though.
Upon arriving home, the recent arrival picks a fight with the occupants of the house, and together they shout at one another at the top of their lungs for 20 minutes or so. Fortunately, I don’t understand any of it.
There also seems to be a revival tent somewhere within hearing distance, because I can hear an amplified man’s voice shouting in those hallelujah cadences, and every now and then there’s hymn singing. Interesting, and I still have my earplugs handy if I need them.
Whew, it’s been a busy day. I’m going home.
Love, Corinne
