A praia à noite
It's the end of the first day, and I have a lot of thoughts spinning in my head. I made a few friends, mostly by just sitting down next to random people, and I've already started a list of colleagues I want to converse with before the conference is over. It was a long day of introductory presentations, and my legs are exhausted from sitting.
I wish you could taste what I had for dinner, because I have honestly no idea what it was. (I found out later it is called acarajé.) One of the conference participants, a Brazilian from Natal, insisted we all try a typical Salvador dish from a nearby open-air cafe. We piled into cabs (because it's apparently too dangerous to walk on the street after dark, even in a large group) and drove just 5 minutes to the cafe. What we found were several food stands and hole-in-the-wall bars surrounding a sea of tables and chairs. Sturdy canopies shielded us from a light rain. Our Brazilian leader confidently approached one food stand and announced her order, then kindly ordered for each of us. I ended up with a plate full of fried bread, what I think must have been cucumbers, shrimp still in their shells, and something that looked like squash. It all tasted fabulous, but I had a hard time with the exoskeletons - even after thorough boiling, they were a bit tough.
We found tables, sat down, and realized we had nothing to drink. I'm learning that getting service in Brazil is often a shouting match. You essentially have to stick your hand in the air, try to make eye contact with a server, shout, wave, and generally do anything you can to get their attention. It's especially frustrating when you want to pay, because the servers prioritize new orders over old tabs. If you succeed in getting their attention, though, they just count the bottles on your table, add it up, and lay down a check for everyone to split. It's mildly chaotic but so much fun.
After taking taxis back to the hotel, we all parted ways. I couldn't help but stand out on the sidewalk for a few minutes, just gazing at the dark beach. There are 3 hotels in a small area - in essence, they share a parking lot - and a tiny strip of sand beside them. It's not much, but it's all my wandering mind needs.
I wish you could feel what I feel tonight. I wish you could stand next to me and stare out to the dark horizon. I wish you could hear the waves crashing over the rocks, a loud, musical energy, drowning out the noise of taxis and tourists. I wish you could feel the humid breeze on your shoulders, feel the warm salt spray on your face. I wish you could feel this sense of calm.
Brazil is so unique and blended and beautiful and interesting, and I find myself drawn to its organized chaos. I want to know everything about it, its history, its people, its culture, but I know that would take years. Staring out at the black water, I picture what mysteries lay hidden under the surface, what things I could discover with a ship and a crew off Brazil's shores. So many questions, so little time, but for now, I must stop myself short. There have already been enough lessons for one day. Turning slowly, I head into the hotel and nod goodnight to my beach. See you again tomorrow.
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| Dinner |
We found tables, sat down, and realized we had nothing to drink. I'm learning that getting service in Brazil is often a shouting match. You essentially have to stick your hand in the air, try to make eye contact with a server, shout, wave, and generally do anything you can to get their attention. It's especially frustrating when you want to pay, because the servers prioritize new orders over old tabs. If you succeed in getting their attention, though, they just count the bottles on your table, add it up, and lay down a check for everyone to split. It's mildly chaotic but so much fun.
After taking taxis back to the hotel, we all parted ways. I couldn't help but stand out on the sidewalk for a few minutes, just gazing at the dark beach. There are 3 hotels in a small area - in essence, they share a parking lot - and a tiny strip of sand beside them. It's not much, but it's all my wandering mind needs.
I wish you could feel what I feel tonight. I wish you could stand next to me and stare out to the dark horizon. I wish you could hear the waves crashing over the rocks, a loud, musical energy, drowning out the noise of taxis and tourists. I wish you could feel the humid breeze on your shoulders, feel the warm salt spray on your face. I wish you could feel this sense of calm.
Brazil is so unique and blended and beautiful and interesting, and I find myself drawn to its organized chaos. I want to know everything about it, its history, its people, its culture, but I know that would take years. Staring out at the black water, I picture what mysteries lay hidden under the surface, what things I could discover with a ship and a crew off Brazil's shores. So many questions, so little time, but for now, I must stop myself short. There have already been enough lessons for one day. Turning slowly, I head into the hotel and nod goodnight to my beach. See you again tomorrow.
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