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Published: August 28th 2010
Salvador e Bahia, Brasil
Salvador mid-winter. Much like England mid-winter except the opposite. The sun beats down most days and the temperature generally threatens to hit 30°C without quite managing to break out of the late 20's. One thing quite winterish I suppose is the short days. I'm currently drafting these thoughts on a beach at 4pm and probably only have an hour and a half until the blazing sun becomes little more than a golden slither across the horizon.
The short days invariably mean that there is very little going on post 6 O'Clock along the seafront. The people here are generally back in their
bairro (neighbourhood) early as the city of Salvador is not a place to be wandering around at night. For this reason, the locals like to get up very early and
'aproveitar do dia' while the sun is up. By way of example, I had a lie in today and was still up at 8. It's very difficult to stay in bed when the climate is so inviting. I was in bed (rudimentary mattress) at midnight, despite having had a fairly busy night. More on this later.
Adding to my earlier comment to the dangers of Salvador at night, news has just reached me that one of the other volunteers was robbed the day before yesterday. It's unusual to meet someone who has spent any considerable length of time here without being forcibly relieved of their possessions. My mother alluded to these dangers as I was packing by making sure to give me a set of rosary beads instructing me to wear them at all times. Her explanation for this? "The Brazilians are quite serious Catholics so maybe they won't be so violent when they rob you". Thanks mum. The same woman that welcomed me back to her home after four years of university with a greeting of, "You smell like a Somalian".
As I mentioned, last night was fairly eventful. I'm currently attending Capoeira classes three times a week which are really fantastic. Before taking part in these, I'd always thought Capoeira was reasonably impressive because of the athleticism on display but was always quite apprehensive about the practice. I wished that it would make it's mind up and become either a martial art or a dance, I'm an open-minded man but I don't like sports that are unsure of their orientation. However, casting aside this initial observation I have since decided that it is 100%!a(MISSING) dance (very similar to breakdancing) and have really fallen in love with the classes although I invariably embarrass myself every session.
The classes always begin with introductions which is an optimum opportunity for me to show off my poor spoken skills in Portuguese, constantly fighting my instincts to revert to speaking Spanish. This embarrassment is followed by my definite beginner status with the Angolan instruments and/or inaccurate attempts to follow the songs in Portuguese. The only chorus I know so far is,
'Nona Maria, como vai você'. If they don't sing this one I'm generally up a certain creek, I spent a long time yesterday singing 'la-la-leyyy, la-la-looo'. Several faux-pas during the actual Capoeira circle itself inevitably come next and then it's time to go after a delightful couple of hours.
Fortunately, two of the people I'm currently living with - a rather beautiful 26 year-old host sister called Morena and her exceptionally kind and friendly husband Gil - also frequent the classes. They provide encouraging gestures when I'm flapping around doing things unbefore seen in a Capoeira circle. After the class yesterday, we (the esteemed writer and a few people from capoeira) went to a bar 20 metres up the road. As it's a poor district, not much more than a favela the bars are very rudimentary but are resplendent in colour and character. Truly a world apart from the 'trendy bars' which seem to be springing up all over England like stinging nettles. Furthermore, the drinks are very cheap, beer is sold in 650ml bottles and costs about 90p.
Interestingly, it's unheard of to drink from a bottle each. You're given plastic cups and depending on the group size, a couple of bottles are brought over and dished out amongst the cups. I'm yet to decide whether I prefer this or not but it's certainly more social although it's ideal to be sharing a bottle with people that drink at a similar pace. I can't see it working at home as arguments regarding who'd drunk the most would be abundant.
The cheapness of alcohol is possibly not as beneficial to the community as it is to me. It's very poor and the people are unlikely to have much of an education. The streets are full of stray dogs and rubbish although binmen make a show of coming round every so often. Mothers are generally young and not yet willing to let go of the practices of youth to provide their children with an optimum upbringing. Many of the bars contain young mums with their babies on their laps into the early hours. Most of the houses are tiny so all except the most private of activities take part in the street, thus it's an incredibly close community. People are only really indoors to sleep, wash and make the babies that will soon roam the streets barefoot themselves as soon as they can walk. There really is work to be done.
So, the women. They are certainly as attractive as we are led to believe. Nubile and friendly with appealing variations of brown skin. They always seem to be dancing and have just improbable backsides; round and full like the moon. Next proportions, I'm never stuck for something to look at on bus rides. They are either that or huge and bursting out of their clothes in all the most unsightly places; they're doesn't seem to be much in between these two extremes. Having made this sweeping generalisation, I will add that truly no two Brazilians look the same.
Salvador is one of the most African parts of Brazil, the birthplace of slavery in the Americas and the people are every shade of tan to ebony with varying types of hair. It's difficult to attribute most of them to any one race. Their clothes are generally simple and cheap but always colourful and 85%!o(MISSING)f the people in my neighbourhood don't seem to possess any footwear other than flip-flops, Havaianas being the brand of choice.
Other than the larger than life females I mentioned, the rest of the population seem to be extremely preoccupied with their body. There is literally fitness apparatus on every corner and there is always someone doing chin-ups, tricep dips, variants of ab crunches and every other exercise possible with your own bodyweight. On my way to the bus stop, I pass at least two sets of this equipment so I really have no excuse. It is no surprise therefore that most of the male population are ripped to bits.
As well as bodies that wouldn't look out of place on Mount Olympus, the men can all dance and are particularly adept at Samba and Forró. Despite a lack of formal education for the masses, the Bahian men seem to undertake courses in 'game' and are exceptionally good at obtaining female attention. No wonder this city is full of white girls from Europe seeking these exotic, dark men who seem born to seduce. Despite the blessing of being mixed race and finding it easy to assimilate myself, I really have my work cut out to compete with these Latin-American lotharios. Samba classes I think are a good place to start, wish me luck.
I think that's sufficient for an initial blog. I realise much of what I'd written could have been easily obtained from a weather report on Bahia but I hope some of the information roused a bit of interest. I think it's possible to comment on this blogging site; if so I welcome anything you have to say. If not, I will just assume that you found the entry illuminating and entertaining. Até la proxima.
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Medical perspective
Marquino. Cara voce deixou um comentario sobre as suas observacoes de sistema da saude fora do blog post. Irmao, voce tem qualquer coisa pra falar sobre esse assunto? Entregas internacionais dos remedios? Agradecemos as suas perspectivas. Valeu! Um grande abraco.