Brazil, with extra coração

First contact with Brazil

Chapter 1

First contact

Entering Brazil for the first time was an exhilarating experience. After close on to a month passed in Peru, here was a country that I actually wanted to go to. I´ve wanted to go to Brazil for a long time. In fact, even before I started this journey and flew off to the United States, I knew Brazil was the country I would definitely go to. And at last, after almost 4 months in the Americas, here I was, entering Brazil.

Crossing the border was simple, all it took was to take a ride in a motor canoe across the river from Santa Rosa in Peru to Tapatinga in Brazil. Having arrived in Santa Rosa in the early hours of the morning, by which I mean 5AM, I had to wait until the immigration office opens at 8AM to get my passport decorated with an exit stamp from Peru.

At this point, I met 2 very interesting people from Spain, Georgina and Anton, so we waited together outside of immigration and talked. T hey were also going to Manaus, and in fact, they were from the same boat coming into Santa Rosa from Peru.

After the office finally opened, we got our passports stamped and left Peru for good.

Crossing the river and stepping onto the Brazilian soil, the change is immediately noticeable. Nobody is speaking Spanish anymore. The signs are in Portuguese. The people are peddling taxis in Portuguese. And the TV that was installed above the dock was in Portuguese, at the time broadcasting some news from São Paulo. Of course, my Portuguese at the time was quite bad, and I couldn´t understand much of anything unless the words sounded anything like their Spanish counterparts. Still though, the change felt good. To be honest, for the last parts of Peru, I could hardly understand them, with `pe´ being inserted into phrases by locals after every single word and eating syllables. It didn´t even sound like Spanish! One really had to concentrate to make out what they were saying.

I parted ways with the Spanish couple after they decided to take a taxi to Leticia, and set off on my own. There were a few things I needed to do. Firstly, change some money. I had 50 Peruvian soles on me, which I was able to change with a local at a market stall at a rate of 1:1. That is not a good exchange rate, but it was only 50 soles, and they were useless to me now anyway.

So now I had 50 reais. Better. I set out to the secondly, which was to get some food. I was able to find a bakery (I love bakeries by the way), from which I got myself 2 French bread pans. In my bag, I still had a healthy can of tuna left after the boat ride, so I found a place to sit down, made 2 nice tuna sandwiches, and after wolfing them down, I went to fulfill the third activity: I needed to get my passport stamped, and officially be in Brazil.

After asking a local who was watering his garden outside of his house, (I was a bit better understanding Portuguese at this point), I was able to locate the Brazilian immigration office, which was inside of a Federal Police building.

The immigration guy looked at my passport, found my Brazilian visa, looked at that, then looked at me, then looked some more at the visa, and I was stamped in. I was now officially, legally, in Brazil! Bem-vindo!

Time to find a port and find out when departs the next boat for Manaus.

Walking by the river, it is incredible just how much cleaner the port is compared to just about anywhere in Peru. As a comparison, in the port of Iquitos, the water is so contaminated and littered with plastic bottles and other garbage that it is actually disgusting. In Brazil, it was clean. In actuality, I tried to look for some bottles swimming in the river, and I couldn´t see any. Obviously, the river was not crystal clear, and there with all of the ships there is clearly a lot of pollution going on, but it was miles better than in Peru.

Upon arriving at the boat that I was pointed at when I asked some guy about it, I went on board, and was redirected back outside and to the port office. The only personnel I could spot in the aforementioned office was a security guard, whom I asked in my best Portuguese about the boat to Manaus, and as he started explaining something to me, way too fast for me to understand, I spotted out of the corner of my eye, heading towards me and the office, a backpacker couple, evident by their huge bags, not unlike mine.

"Something about the boat, something something Manaus something, departing something, pregunta ala, something something no barco?" -said the backpacker guy in very quick fluent Brazilian Portuguese. "Sim, something something sim, ala pregunta, sim, something something!" -said the security guard, in an even faster and more incomprehensible Portuguese.

But I understood enough. They also wanted to go to Manaus, and we had to inquire on the boat itself. So I said:

"Ola! Vou com voces, ta bom?" "Otimo!" - he replied.

These guys were actually from Canada, the guy was Brazilian, originally from São Paulo, and the girl from Toronto in Canada, and they both lived in Canada. So as it turned out, they were indeed also going to Manaus, and as we went over to the boat, Matheus, for that was his name, was able to talk his way through the people who have previously redirected me back out, and we soon were in an office of a lady who was the captain of the ship, and negotiating ticket prices.

We were able to get a hefty discount, because there were 3 of us, which to myself, Matheus, and Selene, for that was her name, seemed like a good deal. We were also told that we could hang our hammocks and sleep in the port, which seemed like a good idea to us all, and I walked over to the hostel where they were staying at while they retrieved their stuff, and then we returned to the port.

We set everything up and hung our hammocks, and just chilled for a while, me reading Harry Potter, Selena making some pulseras and artisanery, and Matheus making grasshoppers and hats from palm leaves.

We took turns in trips to the city. I, for my part, went to the bakery (did I mention I fucking love bakeries?), and got myself a delicious bread sausage, some pão de quejo, a hefty cup of watermelon and pineapple juice, and 2 delicious chocolate balls filled with dulce de leche. This made for a good lunch.

We went together for dinner to a self-service place, where I got myself a whole lot of everything, mainly rice, pasta, beans, and farinha.

"Everybody eats farinha with everything in Brazil" - commented Matheus.

It rained hard in the night, but we were protected by the garage roof as we slept on our hammocks just above some ship containers and listened to the sounds of nature. There was a huge projector lit at the entrance, and you could see swarms and swarms of dragonflies and other types of various insects flying around, beating themselves against the light.

The next morning I made another visit to the bakery, and upon my return there has already gathered a crowd of would be passengers, ready to embark on the boat which was set to leave at midday. A gang of military police rolled in with sniffing dogs, and went through all of our baggage one by one, firstly with questioning "You know, if you have any weed, just give it to me, it´ll be less trouble that way", and secondly with dogs. I saw the Spanish couple in the crowd, and also 2 Argentinian guys next to them.

The dogs didn´t particularly like the bag of one of the Argentinian, and in the end, the police ended up confiscating his pipe. It was clean, as he later explained, but maybe he didn´t wash it all that well.

Green light was given to embark, and we took our places by hanging hammocks and putting the bags down. This boat seemed to be a lot cleaner, and they even had potable water. The company was this: myself, the Brazilian/Canadian couple, the Spanish couple, 2 Argentinians, another Argentinian couple, and a French guy, who seemed to be quite Argentinian himself. This was going to be a good journey!

Chapter 2

The Argentinian side of Brazil

The 4 days on the boat from Tapatinga to Manaus passed not without adventures of their own. There were quite a few amazing people on that boat, but I´ll introduce the 5 with whom I proceeded to pass the next 4 days or so in Manaus itself.

Alejo and Valentino were 2 Argentinians, traveling together for already 9 months and counting. Morgan the French/Argentinian, more Argentinian than French though it would seem, who has done some incredible stuff in his travels, and an Argentinian couple Jonathan el Perro and Paula.

Having arrived in Manaus, we all of us set out in search of a hostel or a hospedaje where we could stay the night that was cheap. It was already dark and late in the evening.

Eventually, after wandering the streets of Manaus like a gang of dangerous backpackers, we have found a hotel in the port neighborhood for a really good price. This night was also the night of a match between Argentina and Brazil in Copa America, and we all went to a local eatery with a TV to watch it. Normally, I don´t like to watch or follow much of any sports, but with the atmosphere added into the mix, us being 6 Argentinians in a bar full of Brazilians cheering for Argentina, it was an amazing experience, full of passion. Anticlimactically however, the game ended in a draw, possibly avoiding a bar fight.

The next day was a Saturday. Morgan needed to go to Western Union, and as most of the stuff is closed on weekends, we commenced a profilactic practice run to find the place, so that on Monday when it did open we didn´t have to search too much.

Now, this was possibly the most memorable adventure of this chapter. Morgan had some idea where to go, from his previous research of google maps, so that way we went. But as we didn´t find it in the place it was supposed to be, we started asking people for directions. And so beigns the funny part. As we none of us spoke much Portuguese, we reserved to asking people in Spanish, to which they of course replied in Portuguese. But most replies were the same. Nobody knew where it was. Nobody knew what it was! One friendly lady in a farmacy literally less than a block away from its supposed location took out her phone and attempted to put in Western Union into google translate in order to see what it is called in Portuguese!

And so proceeded another 3 hours of out search, before we finally gave up, resolving to continue the mission tomorrow. We passed a closed Banco do Brasil, and I suggested that it might be inside there, and if it isn´t, they would surely know where it is. Well, it turned out to be a Colombian in the end who sold us churasco on a stick that evening who finally pointed us in the right direction.

"It´s in that blue building overthere, inside" - he said, pointing at a 30 storey building some distance away.

It was also more or less the same location as previously indicated by Morgan´s phone. The building was closed, which would explain why we didn´t find the actual Western Union which was inside. My theory is that the local Brazilians never have a need on Western Union, and so even the people working in the same building don´t know. But sometimes foreigners do. This whole search for the Western Union that day led to many a joke to be made in the next few days! For example, as we were passing a sign that looked like a Western Union, upon closer inspection we realized it was a Refugio das Coisas Antiguas.

"Refugio de la concha de tu hermana" - as was well commented by Morgan!

The next day we just went around exploring Manaus. After eating some Açaí, we went and sat around the place near Teatro Amazonas. There were quite a few people here. On the bench next to us, there was a girl sitting by herself and smiling at me (or us). So, pushed by encouragements from Ale and Vale, I went over to talk to her. Vale came over as well. I think my Portuguese was improving by this point, since I could actually properly talk to her and we had a basic conversation.

However, not long after that, some guy with eyes as red as a tomato came over on a motorcycle and started pushing me while yelling at the girl ´Who the fuck is this?´ The whole gang came over at this point, Ale, Morgan, Perro, everyone. So obviously, nobody messed with us, but still it was quite an experience. We then left the plaza as the red-eyed motorbike guy seemed to be off talking to some of his numerous buddies by the corner.

This seemed to give the others impression that Manaus was quite a dangerous city, which I did not think it was, and proved that by passing 3 more weeks in this city after they have left. But that´s for another day. For now, the next day we found the elusive Western Union, and after Morgan did his business, we went to a book shop, bought some books in Portuguese to read in order to finally learn the language, and the day after that they caught a boat to Santarem from the docks. I wanted to go with them, and in retrospect, maybe I should have, but for the time being I had greater plans. I was going to wait for John who was already on his way over from Tapatinga, and we would buy a small canoe to sail it down the Amazon!

During these few days, I have picked up a lot and a lot of Spanish. They were some of the best highlights of my journey as a whole.

Chapter 3

Preparation for departure

And thus I stayed in Manaus. After my little bridge hammocking escapade, I decided to seek out a relatively cheap hostel. John was still a couple of days away, and I didn`t feel like staying out on the streets, especially considering the soaking wet state of my belongings.

I found a good place. I did have my shoes stolen from there however, probably by staff, but it was nevertheless, a good place.

I went windowshopping for a canoe, and found a good small exemplar at a reasonable price. Likewise, some side important equipment was aquired, such as a fishing net, a machete, etc. After John`s arrival, he was so excited about the upcoming trip, he practically told everyone at the hostel, which fell upon an interested ear.

A girl called Nina from Belgium also decided to come. Awesome! The more the merrier, right? She also had a jungle tour planned, and was gone for the next 4 days. Just the word tour sends shivers up my spine, but hey, to each their own.

So John and I did some basic shopping and preparation. We bought some gas, fishing lines, a pot to cookin and boil water, and a grill, to fry fish we would eventually catch. That particular grill is a character of its own whose story is yet to be told.

The plan was to buy a canoe, a small cheap motor, and a shade to go with it, but row most of the way and only use motor in emergencies. We had money to burn at this point, John and I, so comforts were`t overlooked. John even bought an airgun to hunt with. It was an impressive weapon. Lots of time was passed shooting into nowhere off of the balcony of the hostel.

We have arranged with the boat guys to leave on Saturday, and to have the boat ready when we eventually showed up that day. Everything looked splendid so far.

Nina returned, now full of doubts about the trip. But she seemed to come around after talking with John, and so it was set. We would leave the next day, which was Saturday. Needless to say, our excitement as we walked to the boat shop was over the roof. However, it came crashing down as the boat shop owners apparently forgot all about our arrangement, and of course, nothing was ready. We could not buy the engine since the shop was closed, so the earliest departure date was now put off to Monday.

"I really was gonna come" - said Nina later.

She changed her mind and backed out of the trip the next day. Which I completely understood, it was after all, a dangerous trip not without its risks.

And thus it was back to John and I, my eternal travel companion and good friend. Somebody had time to steal all of our fishing equipment, and I`m almost 100% sure it was one of the staff, probably the same guy who stole my shoes. So we reaquired the fishing stuff, bought a pair of oars, got the boat, and left Monday morning.

The next chapter of my life was some of the craziest, wildest adventure I have ever had. It was full of danger, risk, challenge, and friendship. It was also full of mosquitos, rain, and more wet clothes and hammocks, but it was all worth it.

Since Nina did not come, our little green canoe was called La Nina. I thought it quite fitting.

"After a fellow adventurer who was not able to make it" - said John.

Title and journey inspired by Patrick Falterman, themodernnomad. Read his blog at hitchtheworld.com