Viagem Brasileira: Rio De Janeiro

The first morning in Brazil I woke up in my hostel dying from heat and went up to the terrace to take in the view that I couldn’t have imagined the night before. All the worries I had before arriving had disappeared and I think all of my fear was of fear itself. After a breakfast of granola and guava I took a speeding bus down the windy, hilly path to the Municipal Theater. Here, I met up with some people from couch surfing who were offering a tour of the city. I met several Italians, Brazilians, a man from Uruguay and another guy from the United States who had just finished studying and was looking for a place to live in Rio. It started as three of us talking in a mixture of Spanish, Portugues and English that only became more of a mess as more and more people joined us on our adventure.

What struck me most about Rio was its wildness. There were none of the cookie-cutter designs and lifeless buildings of America. All the walls have holes and vines. Trees and plants grow everywhere. Even the land isn’t flat and everything has a flavor of chaos. The people in Rio are all beautiful as well. Everyone is fit and pays attention to their appearance. Most people wear flip-flops and men usually don’t were shirts. There is an abundance of babies and children which is rare to see in the center of a city in America.
After our group visited a stairway covered with flamboyantly painted tiles, a market, a monastary and many interesting monuments in the city, we went separate ways. I made my way to my couch-surfing host, Lincoln’s house and met him in his hallway. He was carrying an assortment of soaps. He explained that he sells cosmetic products for a living after having to leave the government due to a disease affecting his vision. His English and my Portuguese were both far from perfect but it was enough that we could begin to understand what the other was trying to say. We had several conversations about the superficiality of Brazil (I talked about the United States) and about how to live an ethical and authentic life. He told me about his religion, Judaism, and offered many interesting metaphors on the subject.
The next day I explored the city, buying lots of fruit, including Maracuja, Starfruit and more Guava. Later Lincoln and I met up with his friends to see the pre-carnaval. The Samba School Beija-Flor (hummingbird) rehearsed their march through the Sambadrome, the big stadium for carnaval, and lyrics were handed out to sing along. One of his friends used to be a director of a Samba School and explained that it is a competition, not a performance. It is like other sports, the goal is to win and the city prospers economically.

Before leaving the Rio I went to Ipanema beach, which was breathtaking despite it being cloudy. The water wasn’t nearly as warm as the beach I went to in Recife but there were huge waves that made up for it. That night I went to a Salsa club which became more and more American as the night went on. I ended up only getting a few hours of sleep before I had to start packing. I gave Lincoln a bottle of maple syrup and some incense and he sent me off with bars of soap and some perfume (he taught me how to use it and was surprised that not all men in the US use perfume). Then it was off to the bus headed for the meditation center in Morro Azul a few hours from the city.