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Today, my butt hurts.

Why does my butt hurt?

I guess you’ll have to keep reading.

I’m writing this in the Sao Paulo airport, while waiting for boarding to begin for my nine-hour flight to Washington DC, then an hour-and-a-half flight to Charlotte, a two-hour drive back to Asheville and I’ll be home!

My 6th day in Manaus (yesterday) kicked off with a lunchtime party at Marnie’s new in-laws house, a joint celebration for the birthdays of my new brother-in-law Yan and my father. There was grilled Tambaqui, sausage, and other meat, a delicious fish stew, and a keg of leftover Brahma beer from the wedding reception a few days previous.

More tasties!

Later on in the afternoon, a young girl at the party (who kept trying to speak to me in Portuguese, with very little success) brought out a bag full of popsicles, made from the local fruits – since over the past few days I’d first sampled Cupuaçu juice, then picked a Cupuaçu right off a tree by my sister’s country home, I thought it only appropriate that I should same a Cupuaçu popsicle. It was predictably delicious.

A cupuaçu popsicle.

I took my leave of the party in the early afternoon to sleep for a bit, because I was feeling a bit worn down, and Angelic – one of the new friends who took me to the Boi-Bumbá festival – had invited me to join her horseback riding that night. Angelic (pronounced: Ahn-zhe-LEE-kee) works for the Military Police of the state of Amazonas, as a mounted policewoman. We would be riding around the grounds of the Cartel, the local MP headquarters where the horses were stabled.

Angelic in full parade dress (stolen from Facebook)

When Angelic arrived to pick me up, I kept asking if I should change from my shorts & flip-flops into jeans & boots, to which she kept giving enigmatic responses that is shouldn’t matter. I brought them along just in case. When we arrived at the Cartel and began outfitting the horses, I discovered why…

We were going to be riding bareback.

All I can say is – ladies, if you’re looking for an amazing workout for your thighs and are willing to endure some butt bruises, try bareback riding. I can barely pull my knees together my muscles are so sore, and I can’t imagine how they’re going to feel tomorrow.

Regardless of all that, I had a great time. My horse Comanche was very obedient, and there were only a few times I felt at all insecure riding him. Angelic’s horse Barón had a very proud way about him – he always kept his chin raised high in the air. Angelic commented that he was a stubborn horse, but she liked the way he carried himself. We first took the horses around an enclosed sand corral, then out to a nearby field to feed for a bit. After that we let then stretch their legs a little around the grounds of the cartel, until my aching backside could take no more. We hosed them down, returned them to their stables, and set off in search of food.

My new pal Comanche.

We found nourishment at a late-night open-air food court. Angelic explained to me the different kind of foods that were available, and I chose to order from the place she described as “more traditional sandwiches.” I had an X-burger – a hamburger with lettuce, a fried egg, a slice of ham, and melted cheese. I was overwhelmed by the variety of delicious, greasy proteins involved. It wasn’t until earlier today, on the way to the Manaus airport that Marnie explained to me what an X-burger meant, after I noted the same item advertised outside a restaurant.

The letter X in portuguese is pronounced “Sheez”.

Thus, “X-burger”, when said aloud, sounds like “Cheezeburger”.

Thus far, today has been uneventful, aside from hurried packing this morning and another delicious meal at the house of Yan’s friend Alex. At the airport, while waiting for my flight’s boarding time to come up, I sample Cajú juice, which comes from the “false fruit” of the cashew tree. It was sweet, with an aftertaste resembling toasted sesame seeds. Tearful goodbyes were said before I passed through the gate to the security checkpoint, and I boarded a plane to Sao Paulo.

I foresee no great drama between here and Asheville, so I’ll bring my Brazil diary to a close now.

Exotic foods, a wedding, dancing in the streets, rooftop parties, and bareback riding with a military policewoman… This has been a most memorable experience. I can scarcely believe that all that happened in only 7 days. I hope to return soon, and hopefully next time, I’ll have had time to learn a little of the language!

I can’t express how grateful I am for the hospitality and friendship shown to me by everyone I met. And when I arrive home, I may just have to make myself a Manaus-style X-burger.

To my new Manaus friends: Beijos! Voltarei em breve!

Today I got to experience a different side of the Amazonian region of Brazil. Around 11:00 we set off from Marnie & Yan’s apartment to visit her sítio – her country house. Before she & Yan got an apartment in the Educandos neighborhood of Manaus, this was here primary place of residence in Brazil. She purchased it from someone she described as “A crazy old man – no really, he was actually crazy.”

What she purchased is what I would describe as “squatter’s rights”. The entire village of Fatima, where her sítio is located, is technically on the property of a very wealthy Brazilian landowner, but Brazilian law states that if lands that were unused by a property owner are cared for by another for 3 years, the caretaker then has rights to the land and can not be evicted. Those rights can then be bought and sold, which is how Marnie came by the land. Apparently there’s a general opinion in Brazil, that if the wealthy have more than they can use, it should be shared with the poor. I feel like there could be some insightful political commentary made about how this pertains to the Occupy Wall Street movement, but I’ll leave that to someone else.

We arrived at the docks on the Rio Negro at around 11:30 – the sky was clear and the sun was blazing hot. At the docks, we again saw the effect the rise and fall of the water level has on those who rely on the river: since the available space along the shoreline was greatly diminished by the low water, the boats were all crowded very closely together, with only a few inches between them.

Low water = tightly packed boats.

We boarded a ferry, that could seat about 20 people, and were soon away from the docks and out on the river. The boat made a few stops along the way – one at a beach that I was told was usually very popular, but due to the low water level there was a danger of stingrays, and several people had been recently injured.

A few swimmers braved the stingrays...

The ferry dropped us off at the stop for Fatima, where again we saw the effects of the low water level. After scaling a 20-foot slope of sandy soil, Marnie pointed out a tree with exposed roots, and said that within a few months the base of the tree would be completely underwater.

In a few months, these roots will be underwater.

She also pointed out a pile of garbage bags, mentioning that the trash barge was currently unable to make it far enough inland to collect the trash, so it was just accumulating.

It was only about a mile’s walk to her sítio, but due to the high temperatures and blazing sun, we decided it would be a good idea to take one of the local “taxis”. While we waited for one to arrived, we sat in the shade at local shop, the owners of which Marnie is friends with. They were very friendly, and offered us drinks – at Marnie’s suggestion I opted for Baré Guaraná, a root-beer like beverage, only available in the Amazonas region. Delicious!

mmmm... tasty.

After we waited for about 15 minutes, a small pickup truck (more a car with a pickup bed – I’ve seen many of them since I arrived) passed the store, and one of the owners flagged it down for us. Marnie & I enjoyed the bumpy ride in the pickup bed, and within about 10 minutes were outside her gate.

She showed us around her property, which was populated with fruit-bearing trees of all sorts: Avocados, cashews, ingá (fleshy white fruits with large purple seeds, which are contained in pods several feet long), acaí and cupuaçu, among many others.

Marnie's sítio!

After straightening up the one-room house, on a small propane stove, using water pulled by hand from her well, she cooked a delicious meal of Jaraqui. It’s a small local fish, about which is said, “Quem come jaraqui, não sai mais daqui,” which translates to, “He who eats, jaraqui, never leaves here again!” Along with it she made vinagrete and rice – a simple country meal, but absolutely fantastic.

This picture makes me hungry.

A few hours later, the pickup taxi returned us to the docks, where I watched a boy – who couldn’t have been more than fourteen – attempting to push his water taxi away from the docks. Every time he tried to do so, his dog would leap back onto the dock, and he would have to chase it back to the boat. I captured a few seconds of video of that dog, which I thought I’d loop for you all in .gif format (this was after the boy finally wrangled him onto the boat and cast off).

Later that evening, back in the city, we went to a rooftop party at Marnie’s friend Telma’s house – a surprise birthday party for her friend Beth’s husband. The food was great, the music was loud, and the people were wonderful, but what was most memorable was the stairs we scaled to reach the roof!

How's that for stairs?

Today I did not have the constitution for much, and neither did the rest of my family or my sister Marnie’s new husband Yan. Originally a boat trip had been planned to visit the point where the Rio Negro and Rio Salimoes meet to form the Amazon, but given everyone’s exhaustion and hangovers, it was cancelled.

I slept until 1:00PM. The seven hours of sleep were much needed.

Marnie & Yan opened some of their wedding presents today, with startling results. Before I continue, let me explain that the weather here is permanently humid, has nearly reached 90 degrees every day, and is like this most of the year. So when my sister & her new husband opened their gifts to discover that they had been given not one, not two, not three but EIGHT heavy comforters, all they could do was laugh and shake their heads. Apparently, comforters are considered a luxury item in this area of Brazil, and their guests wanted to get them the very best! Needless to say, some returns and exchanges are in their future.

...that's a lot of comforters.

Later in the evening we headed out for a dinner of fried meats, accompanied by the usual farofa, vinagrete, mayonaise (potato salad), and rice, and very strong caipiroskas (like caipirinhas, but with vodka instead of caçhasa). As with all the food I’ve had since I’ve been here it was fantastic.

Tasty fried meats!

Tomorrow a trip is planned to Marnie’s country house in Fatima. Time to rest!