A gringa
Hello there, friends. I guess I missed out on updating you yesterday, because I went straight to sleep after getting back to the hotel. My presentation was today, so I wanted to get plenty of rest - but more on that later. For now, I'll fill you in on my Tuesday.
It was a full day of conference presentations, and as always, I took copious notes. It's actually kind of interesting to watch other audience members during a talk, because each person writes down different things. (I can tell, because they are writing at different times.) I imagine if you compared two peoples' notes, you would find very little common content. Each of us takes out of a talk exactly what we need.
As the presentations were winding down and groups started forming for dinner, I found myself surrounded by Brazilians. I am of course anxious to learn anything I can about the culture in Salvador, so I decided not to influence the decision of where we should go eat. I was ready for anything, and I trusted the colleagues around me. The conversation rambled along in Portuguese, but when a decision had been reached, one of the Brazilians looked at me to see if I agreed. Yes, I nodded. Of course. Show me your world.
We went to a restaurant called A Casa da Theresa, and we managed to get 11 of us around one table. When I first peaked at the menu, I swallowed hard and started second-guessing my decision to follow the locals, because prices ran $30-40 a plate. G, sitting next to me, must have noticed my face, because he leaned in and explained that each dish was to be shared by 2-3 people. I breathed a sigh of relief. I ended up splitting a seafood stew with two others; it had large chunks of white fish, pieces of octopus tentacle, and shrimp (thankfully out of the shell this time), cooked together in a sweet coconut sauce. We were served rice, cassava, and a fish paste as side dishes.
Even though the restaurant was pretty up-scale, we still had to wave and shout to get service. The walls were covered in artifacts and art, some abstract, some tribal, some obviously a fusion of contrasting cultural traditions.
I actually spent most of dinner picking my companions' brains about life in Brazil. I've found over and over so far this week that Brazilians are extremely welcoming of foreigners. Brazil is a difficult place to live because of safety concerns (you can't safely walk on the street after dark), but the culture is fascinating. The population of Salvador has a large proportion of West African descendants, so the culture is heavily influenced by these black Brazilians. The music, the architecture, the food, even the religious beliefs are all a blend between Portuguese and West African traditions. I obviously have only a superficial understanding of the culture at this point, but I'm going to go ahead and call it a melting pot. A big, hot pot of cultural stew.
It was a full day of conference presentations, and as always, I took copious notes. It's actually kind of interesting to watch other audience members during a talk, because each person writes down different things. (I can tell, because they are writing at different times.) I imagine if you compared two peoples' notes, you would find very little common content. Each of us takes out of a talk exactly what we need.
As the presentations were winding down and groups started forming for dinner, I found myself surrounded by Brazilians. I am of course anxious to learn anything I can about the culture in Salvador, so I decided not to influence the decision of where we should go eat. I was ready for anything, and I trusted the colleagues around me. The conversation rambled along in Portuguese, but when a decision had been reached, one of the Brazilians looked at me to see if I agreed. Yes, I nodded. Of course. Show me your world.
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| Triologia do Mar |
We went to a restaurant called A Casa da Theresa, and we managed to get 11 of us around one table. When I first peaked at the menu, I swallowed hard and started second-guessing my decision to follow the locals, because prices ran $30-40 a plate. G, sitting next to me, must have noticed my face, because he leaned in and explained that each dish was to be shared by 2-3 people. I breathed a sigh of relief. I ended up splitting a seafood stew with two others; it had large chunks of white fish, pieces of octopus tentacle, and shrimp (thankfully out of the shell this time), cooked together in a sweet coconut sauce. We were served rice, cassava, and a fish paste as side dishes.
Even though the restaurant was pretty up-scale, we still had to wave and shout to get service. The walls were covered in artifacts and art, some abstract, some tribal, some obviously a fusion of contrasting cultural traditions.
I actually spent most of dinner picking my companions' brains about life in Brazil. I've found over and over so far this week that Brazilians are extremely welcoming of foreigners. Brazil is a difficult place to live because of safety concerns (you can't safely walk on the street after dark), but the culture is fascinating. The population of Salvador has a large proportion of West African descendants, so the culture is heavily influenced by these black Brazilians. The music, the architecture, the food, even the religious beliefs are all a blend between Portuguese and West African traditions. I obviously have only a superficial understanding of the culture at this point, but I'm going to go ahead and call it a melting pot. A big, hot pot of cultural stew.
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