Secure in Salvador?

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When we arrived at the airport in Salvador, we found the guy the hostel sent to pick us up. The airport was 30 kilometers outside of the city center so we knew we had some time in the car. Our driver said he spoke Spanish and Italian but only a little English. It was perfect. It gave me an opportunity to practice my Spanish for about 45 minutes. I felt a little rusty, forgetting some very simple words, but it was worth the cost of the ride. Once again, I was proud of myself even engaging in conversation about the legal drinking age in the US and outside of the US and the percentages of the populations of the US and Brazil who smoke. A proud moment. We parked in a parking garage and walked the rest of the way.

Salvador’s historic center is a World Heritage listed pedestrian only area. Salvador was at the heart of the slave trade up until the end of the 1800’s. It has retained much of the African heritage and has one of the most preserved cultures on this side of the Atlantic. We were told to expect great food and music, with a constant African drum beat. As soon as we checked into our hostel, a drum corps walked by, on the road just outside of our hostel. Well, the music part of it certainly delivered. How about the food?
Our hostel was fairly unique. I think the owner just purchased it from an older couple and was in the process of completing some renovations. We got a deal on a large room overlooking the road. The word stark was an understatement. We had a fairly comfortable bed in a large room with high ceilings. There was a light on the ceiling. We had a very simple bathroom with a sink outside the door, and that was it. There were no nightstands, or lamps, or even a mirror over the sink. There were no hooks to even hang a towel or even a door knob. It seemed very incomplete despite its fresh white paint. In the hallways only every other light socket was full. I think they have a great location and a friendly demeanor, but Eric wanted to go around the room with a pencil and insert words to show them where things should be, i.e. “soap dish here.”

Outside of the hostel, the historic center of Salvador was replete with fantastic architecture. Since it became a World Heritage site money has been poured into renovations, but many of the buildings seemed to have benefited already from the investment. The houses and buildings were all painted fantastic bright shades of blue, orange, and yellow with white trim. It is how I imagined a port city in some towns in western Africa would look. The main square had three rustic churches and a beautifully painted medical college. The roads were cobblestone - but I could not imagine the drunks walking through there during carnival. There were many outdoor cafes, bars, and restaurants with indoor dining areas which would just place some plastic tables and chairs outside for alfresco dining. There was music everywhere, both live and recorded, with some battle of the bands occurring at several corners. It was charming, but the warnings in the book about the dangers of Salvador still lurked in the back of my head.

After braving and surviving Rio, we continued to feel unsafe in Salvador. I also wondered about my broken windows theory. Salvador was clean, from what we saw in the historical center. There were plenty of street cleaners out each morning cleaning up. But, we never really left our little hill top neighborhood. We tried a few times. Once we walked down the hill to the end of the pedestrian area, we looked around, thought it was a road we should not cross, and we made our way right back up the hill. We had read that you can easily cross the street and head into a dangerous area inadvertently. There were police and security all through the neighborhood, some very military style with camouflage, and pants cuffed into tall hefty leather boots. I guess they were there to make me feel safe, but instead, I felt like I was in a war zone. The other time we tried to leave the neighborhood, we walked past the main square, past a fountain, to an area with a look out down the hill and over one of the ports. As we walked back, we made a right just before the main square where there were some people eating at tables on the street. We diverted only one block off the main square but when we emerged a taxi driver asked us what language we spoke and then warned us to stay on the right side of the square. The street we just walked down is dangerous and filled with drug dealers. Okay. He did not seem to be scaring us into getting into the cab with him, or scamming us in any way. It was just peculiar. We never carried our camera with us. We emerged early Saturday morning with the camera for about one hour and then returned to the hostel to drop it off. Every time we went to the ATM we returned quickly to the room to secure the funds.

We also noticed immediately that people and sometimes vendors would walk around with bright colored ribbon bracelets with some wording on it. They offered to tie it on your wrist for free, some claiming it would give us “protection” but I did not want to know from what. I had recollections of the String Guys from our first trip to Rome years ago. The String Guy would offer a free string bracelet to tie on your wrist while his partner in crime pick pocketed you or stole your bag while you were tethered to the String Guy. No thanks. In the Lonely Planet I was informed that generally the free bracelets came with a price tag in Salvador. Normally they would drag you into some shop or to some vendor where you would be strong armed into an overpriced purchase. A better scenario than in Rome. Regardless, feeling myself a seasoned traveler by now, to me the wording on the bracelets screamed “I am a traveling sucker, please mug me now.”

Just after dark that night we saw a couple getting into a car that was parked on the same square and a group ranging from maybe 8 years old to adult, about 6 or 7 of them, were harassing the drivers, I think to give them money. It is not the first time we have seen unofficial “parkers” requesting money from people to park their car on public streets. Their service is to keep the car safe, but if you refuse you may face damage to your car, or worse. The first time we saw this was in Washington, D.C., every time a major event was hosted at the MCI Center. This time, though, there was a group rather than a single guy and they were banging on the car and the windows. I looked around for one of those ever present police and could not find a single one. They probably did not want to work after dark in the neighborhood.
We were only in Salvador for two nights. We never left our neighborhood. And, we did not really stay out at night. We had some good food including black eyed peas and fried cheese fritters. We also drank some fantastic fruit shakes and juices. Lonely Planet listed several restaurants in the neighborhood and we chose two to seek out. After walking up and down the street they were both supposed to be on, we stopped at the tourist information center to confirm the addresses. Neither was there anymore. One became a dance school and the other an art gallery. There were several other items listed in the Lonely Planet which made me realize they need to update their book.

Our second and last night we went to the convenience store at the corner, which doubled as a bar. You can buy groceries or bottled beers. The owner will give you the beer and a plastic cup and you can sit at a table outside, or at the counter in the market, and drink your beer while listening to music played from speakers so large they belonged on a rock tour. We sat down for a beer and happily listened to some bossa nova music. At first we felt a bit uncomfortable being the only tourists there, but we settled into listen to some music. Then, two women approached us, pointed to the line of chairs and microphones next to the speakers. I was not sure if they were asking us for a cover charge even though no one was singing. They wanted us to sign some piece of paper which looked like it had a betting pool on it; or possibly it was a lottery. We told them we did not speak Portuguese and tried to understand what they were saying, but instead, we felt it was best to finish up our beer and walk on. Later that night, there was live music outside our window at the corner grocery/bar and people poured out into the street. It looked like it was Carnival. I was happy, however, to listen to the music and observe the festivities from the safety of our window.

We left Salvador by walking through the square with the churches, past the drug street we were not supposed to go down, to take an elevator down the hill to the port. Once outside of the elevator, we briskly walked to the port. We had been to the ATM several times in the two days we were in Salvador. We were heading to an island off the coast of Bahia and were told that there was one ATM there and it often was out of order. We stocked up on cash, which made me extremely nervous walking to the dock to catch the boat. We spread our money around in different pockets and bags, thinking that if something happened we might be able to minimize our losses. We needed to walk through the central market and decided to skirt around the outside where there were less people. I certainly do not like feeling like this and was happy to be leaving Salvador, despite the yummy food. I was hoping Morro de Sao Paulo would be relaxing and would feel safer. Here’s hoping.

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Photos

Drummers Marching By
Our first view of the street from our hotel.

Eric Looking Bored
Just take the damn picture already.

Typical Colorful Street
And the dangerous cobblestones.

Sunday Night Party
Again, outside of hotel window. We did not get much sleep in Salvador.