Hora de picar a mula.
A.k.a. It’s time to hit the road.
Bye bye Itacaré; home away from home. Cute, lovely place & lovely pace. I’ve lived and I’ve learned; a few baby surf steps, but also some other stuff that will come in handy this lifetime. After 6 weeks in this town I felt like a local. Too small to walk down Pituba (the main street) and not run into someone you know. Sit down, enjoy a coffee and some forbidden fruit (homemade brownie and banana bread at Julian’s café > To. Die. For. Twice.) Like angels peeing over your tongue (Dutch saying).
When you decide to visit Itacaré though; approach with caution. Easy to love, hard to leave. The artisanal chocolate is another one that keeps you close. Damn you, Costa do Cacao.
Back to Disneyland
Decided to break my trip up north with another stay in Salvador to enjoy some city time in Pelourinho/ Santo Antonio this time. Lucky again, because I stayed in the right hostel at the right time and met the right people, with whom I had a caipirinha or two at the pre carnival street parties and free open air concerts. Catching a last glimpse of the Bahian culture before leaving the one and only state I’ve been to so far. You can almost feel the upcoming carnaval when you inhale.
Also very tangible is Brazil’s poverty. Police try hard to keep tourists caged in the few blocks of perfectly maintained cobble stone streets and famous candy coloured buildings. Souvenir shops, so called local products and touristy eateries all around. Looks like my My Little Pony’s would have a great time here.
Bad place
But Pelourinho (‘whipping-post’) used to be a very bad place. The innocent looking main square was the stage where thousands and thousands of slaves were publicly punished. The various stories told are not all the same, but do have a lot of ugliness in common.
Gossip goes that the government recently realized that us tourists don’t really like ugly stories. So they might rename the square ‘Michael Jackson square’, because of him filming some footage there for one of his video clips.
Another thing undeniably ugly and visible when stepping outside of Neverland, is the gap between rich and (very) poor. You will see people living on the street, most of them clearly high on crack or some other substance. Most of them Afro-Brazilians. Born with dark skin, chances of a somewhat decent life seems to still be very little to non-existent here. The darker, the worse.
It’s the cracked up lady that suddenly slams her last sip of whatever she was drinking onto a local lady’s clothes on her way to work, that makes me painfully aware of the differences when comparing 'classes'. Let alone when compared to us. To me.
I feel nothing but blessed for where I was born and for the chances I’ve been given. Things could have been so different. Instead, I’m the lucky one. Privileged to have developed some skills that enable me to travel & work at the same time. A bittersweet taste stays with me when I leave Salvador. I guess this is why they want to keep us walking circles in their fake world.
On the contrary (and to finish this blog with a happy note), Brazil in general seems to have a great feel for party. So… that’s why I’ve moved up to Recife & Olinda, where ‘the best carnaval in the world’ is being celebrated, so I’ve heard. By the time of writing, I think the parties have come to an end, although there might be a tiny bloco around the corner still going on playing this song. So more about that and other things…next time!
On the contrary (and to finish this blog with a happy note), Brazil in general seems to have a great feel for party. So… that’s why I’ve moved up to Recife & Olinda, where ‘the best carnaval in the world’ is being celebrated, so I’ve heard. By the time of writing, I think the parties have come to an end, although there might be a tiny bloco around the corner still going on playing this song. So more about that and other things…next time!
Toodles to the poodles!
x
