Walking Solo in Alter do Chão

The central praça in Alter do Chão

I’m traveling in Brazil by myself.  I’m in a small village, Alter do Chão more than six hours by plane from São Paulo.  Alter, as the locals call it, is on the banks of the clear water Rio (river) Tapajós, a tributary to the mighty Amazon.  The village is a few degrees south of the equator and several kilometers upstream from the confluence of the two rivers.  Years ago Jacques Cousteau dubbed it the Caribbean of the Amazon.  It is a beautiful place.

I am not naturally someone who likes to be alone, certainly not someone who likes to travel alone.  I much prefer being with family and friends.  I’m perfectly happy, in fact enjoy, working alone – I’m a writer after all – but during the social times of the day, even in my own home, I prefer company.  Being “on the road” alone is worse.  It isn’t a matter of logistics – I’m an experienced and relaxed traveler.  It’s about sharing the experiences.  Plus I’ve never been very comfortable sitting in a restaurant and eating a meal by myself.  My husband told me to bring a notebook.  That is a good tip.

I grew up in a large, close-knit family.  My first few years were spent in the company of my older sister.  I was never alone.  We were only two years apart and we played endless games together.  In retrospect I don’t remember who invented the games – what I remember is their infinite variety and inventive delight.  I remember how much fun we had – making paper dolls, creating families of little teddy bears out of plasticine (a type of colored modeling clay that was common in the 1950’s), building dioramas and theatrical events for the paper dolls’ and teddy bears’ lives, inventing and playing imaginary games in which we travelled to alternative universes where the rules and the powers we had were quite different than in our universe. 

Often we “travelled” on these adventures with our cousin who lived next door but one.  I put “travelled” in quotation marks since our vehicle was our grandfather’s tool shed.  The engine was the vice on his workbench.  It was remarkable how, when the toolshed door was shut and latched, and we got the heavy handle of the vice spinning fast, we could take off to unknown worlds.  Once we landed and unlatched the door, we found ourselves on a completely different planet far from our own backyard.  Sometimes, on lucky days, his older sister – older than me by a then unfathomable six years – joined us.  These were particularly good adventures since my older cousin knew about horses.  When she was along, these magnificent animals were added to our adventure.  Although our steeds were just broomsticks or thick branches that our grandfather cut for us, they transported us to even more exotic locales – wild sandy deserts complete with camels and palm trees.  We had tremendous fun and I wonder if today’s computer savvy kids have as interesting escapades as we did.  I think my early experiences and imaginative games are part of why I like to write stories.  But for sure, the closeness I experienced is part of why I don’t like being alone for too long.  That’s probably why I got and stayed married! 

Whatever the reasons, I don’t take naturally to traveling alone.  But here I am, alone in Alter, while my husband is on a scientific expedition measuring the hydrology and geochemistry of the lower Amazon.  Of course, I chose to be here and I think it is a good choice.

Let’s say you, like me, are hoping to make progress on your current writing project.  You’ve been working on it most of the day and you desperately need to stretch your legs.  You are a lifelong walker and decide to go for a walk.  That is what I did the other afternoon.  It was about 90℉ and very humid – even my weather app said it felt like 100!  After about 3 miles I returned to my pousada (bed and breakfast).  I was too hot to walk in the heat any longer.  I hadn’t reached 10,000 steps but in fairness, that number isn’t set in stone.  Especially not when you are practically on the equator!  After my hot walk, I needed to stretch.  When you are sixty-something you almost always need to stretch.  I decided to do some simple yoga poses in my room. 

Now I know why hot yoga is popular.   After pulling off most of my saturated clothing, I tried a downward dog.  It felt good and I moved easily into plank and cobra.  Good again.  Body felt supple and I am normally a pretty stiff, albeit fit, older lady.  I tried a few warrior poses – my arms stretched gracefully out to an imaginary horizon.  My back bent a little further than usual.  I tried a couple more poses.  I was definitely more flexible.  Maybe being very hot helps my yoga.  I managed to do a half-baked dancing Shiva without completely losing my balance.  Perhaps the original yoga masters, who presumably lived in India, did their practice in similarly hot and humid climates.  Either way it felt good and what a benefit to be able to stretch properly.  Sitting at a computer all day isn’t good for you at any age.  Of course I was glad I had a shower to wash my sweat off and that my room had an air conditioner so I could stay cooler.  That is a privilege that I have as an American tourist who can afford to stay in a pousada that has such amenities.  

The Martin Pescador at its home port

Writing, walking and doing yoga are not my only pastimes here in Alter!  On Monday I tagged along on an expedition organized by Big Tree Adventure Tours (http://www.bigtreeadventuretours.com),

a unique Amazon adventure company that operates out of nearby Santarém.  In 2014, I blogged about two wonderful trips I went on with the company.  Karim Abu Bakr, who organized both trips in 2014, organized Monday’s boat trip as well.  Karim, one of two partners in the company, is a well-informed charming guide.  We travelled on a traditional Amazonian flat-bottomed wooden boat, the Martin Pescador, to a floodplain area on the far side of the Tapajós.  

A traditional floodplain house

There we visited a traditional floodplain house built on stilts.  The Tapajós River level can fluctuate by as much as 10 meters between high and low water.  Thus, any structure that is to survive the floodwaters must be either floating or built on stilts.

A contented Tapajós cow

The lady of the house shared delicious Sapacaia (a type of Brazil) nuts with us and showed us a huge Sapacaia tree on her property.  We hiked through her riparian (riverside) forest, saw lazy sloths hugging branches high up in the trees.  We watched colorful birds flit among the trees.  Interestingly, while traveling by boat to her small holding, we saw many cattle grazing on islands, even sitting contentedly on offshore floating mats of vegetation.  Who knew cows can swim?  The local floodplain farmers use low lying islands as pastures during low water and take their cattle by boat back to the mainland when the waters rise.  Floodplain cattle farms are an important part of the regional economy.  Later, after a delicious on-board lunch of local smoked pirarucu (the largest of all Amazon fish), we pulled up to a white sand spit and swam in the cool, sweet water of the Tapajós.

Yesterday I sat on another fine sandy beach enjoying a cold beer.  I was a two-minute rowboat ride from Alter’s central praça (town square).  A pleasant tropical wind blew in my face, drying my hair in minutes. It was hard to feel lonely since I shared the beach with many others on holiday

The benefit I have in traveling alone is the opportunity to know this extraordinary ecosystem; to see its unique, and impressive flora and fauna; and to understand its grandeur up close and personal!  It is an ancient ecosystem.  Near where I am staying there are some prehistoric cave drawings that are more than 10,000 years old.  It’s not surprising there were inhabitants here so long ago.  The region is rich in natural resources – clean water, white sandy beaches, abundant fish to catch and small mammals to hunt, wild fruit and nuts to enjoy and a climate so warm that clothes are practically optional! 

A Sapacaia nut "case"

Now you begin to understand why I am here.  It is a privilege to know the region, its history and its people even just a little bit.  It is also a privilege to have a place and a space to research and write– uninterrupted by the normal daily grind.  Perhaps these pleasures outweigh the challenge of eating out alone.  Just in case however, I’m keeping my notebook in my purse. 

A Sapacaia tree

Does the World Need Us?

Praça José Bonifácio in Piracicaba

My husband Jeff and I arrived in Brazil a week ago for a 3-month stay.  The 24-hour journey from Seattle was gratefully easy including a seamless plane change in Washington D.C. less than a day before a massive snowstorm hit the area.  Upon arrival in Sao Paulo, we drove north to the inland city of Piracicaba, where we will live for the next couple of months.  I first visited Piracicaba exactly 30 years ago.  At the time, I was a not so young mother of a 2-year-old boy and pregnant with our daughter.  Now, both children are grown adults, our son married for three years and our daughter, almost 30, will get married this summer.  It seems like a long time ago that I walked to the local bakery holding my young son’s hand and discovered that the cruzeiro had inflated overnight and was now the cruzado, with the value of 1000 cruzeiros.  Fortunately the cost of bread did not inflate 1000-fold. 

The Cathedral in Piracicaba

Amazingly, despite the passage of time, another monetary unit (the real) introduced in 1994 and population growth, the town feels very much the same as it did when I first visited.  Piracicaba remains a peaceful and prosperous university town with a thriving downtown core and several productive factories on the outskirts.  It sits in, and is supported by, a rich agricultural region.  Lush sugar cane fields stretch beyond the town as far as you can see.  Just as I did 30 years ago, I can still walk across the street from my apartment building and buy freshly baked pão francês from a family run bakery (the Brazilian style French rolls that are the staple daily bread everywhere in Brazil http://flavorsofbrazil.blogspot.com.br/2012/08/brazils-daily-bread-pao-frances.html ) .  But back in 1986, the world, Brazil and Piracicaba were very different, perhaps more innocent places.  Brazil was a new democracy with an emerging if small middle class and just auditioning on the world stage.  It would be three years before the fall of the Berlin Wall signaled the end of the Cold War and five years before the Soviet Union dissolved.  Back then, I don’t think any of us imagined something like 9-11 or similar terrorist attacks.   There were threats of course but nothing like those we face today.  The big issues at the time in Brazil were national inflation and de-forestation of the Amazon rain forest.  Now thirty years later, no matter where you are in the world, there are much greater economic and political challenges – many linked heavily to the global economy and increasing inequality.  The challenges here in Piracicaba are not terribly different from those in my hometown of Seattle.  Environmental issues like de-forestation are now recognized to be part of larger, more complex global concerns including climate change.  Brazil is fully on the world stage now – about to host the 2016 Olympics! It has some of the best street graffiti in the world.

Great Street Graffiti in Piracicaba

My first visit to Brazil occurred in 1982, four years before I came with our young son.  I took a leave of absence from my job in Seattle and traveled in the Amazon region, assisting my husband and other scientists on a scientific expedition. The expedition evaluated the hydrology and geochemistry of the largest river in the world.  I was a trained geochemist at the time.  I remember feeling during the five weeks we were on the river as if I was living in a National Geographic travelogue replete with dug out canoes, exotic birds and floating villages.  One afternoon we passed through a hatch of beautiful butterflies that surrounded our boat in a magical veil of bright yellow wings for more than an hour. 

Some of the changes during the last three decades are unsettling, even alarming – and for better or worse, the changes we’ve experienced affect us all regardless of where we live in the world.  For example, last week I read that 2015 was the hottest year on record throughout the globe, breaking the high temperatures reached during the previous hottest year, 2014.  Everywhere I turn, whether I am reading about energy, education, global warming, security, social and religious freedom there is disheartening, and often bad news.  But at the same time there are exciting new innovations all around me that give a feeling of optimism.  Who imagined in 1986 that we’d all own personal computers let alone smart phones?  Probably Steve Jobs but not most ordinary folks.  Similarly did we imagine all being connected through the World Wide Web?  I didn’t but smarter folks did and they were inventing it just as I was walking to the bakery in Piracicaba holding my little boy’s hand.  Now all of us share music, news, knowledge, stories, everything on this amazing global information system.  Of course these systems have been and will be used for purposes that are threatening and even dangerous – we’ve seen that recently in Paris, San Bernardino and elsewhere.  But I believe the power of art, science, engineering, computers and associated technologies to do good and help solve our problems is greater than any downside. 

I was reminded of this belief a few days ago when I received a poetry prompt from the outgoing 2015 Washington State poet laureate Elizabeth Austen.  Ms. Austen is a talented poet and teacher – skilled in inspiring the rest of us to read and write poetry.  You can connect with the prompt at http://wapoetlaureate.org/2016/01/24/poetry-for-all-prompt-5/

She began a series of video poetry prompts in 2015 and sent out the fifth one earlier this week.  The prompt begins with an epigraph from Rainer Maria Rilke, a nineteenth century lyrical poet.  In the prompt, the contemporary poet Ellen Bass responds directly to Rilke’s assertion in a poem entitled “The world has need of you.”  After listening to Ms. Austen’s video, my poem is in response not to the statement but to the implicit question: “Does the world need us?”  Here is my poem:

Does the world need us?

Does the world need us?

Well you might ask.

As if the sky needs the swallows

Or the young eagles

Learning to fly as their mother

Sits high on the tall Doug fir.

Does the sky need the sun?

Or does the sun own the sky

What sort of a partnership is it?

The mere concept of need is curious

Does need mean want?

Is it a necessity?

As in I need a glass of water

My throat is parched.

It is so hot.  I need more liquids.

Of course they don’t need to be water.

There’s that need word again

Need suggests necessity

What about just want?

As in, I want a glass of water

Will any old liquid do?

Of course I need something healthy

Not mountain dew or dirty water.

If I was very thirsty and nothing safe was there

What would I do?

Are there times when we are so thirsty

That we drink polluted water

Or even something worse?

What’s worse than dirty water?

Is that why the world needs us?

To make clean from the dirty.

Perhaps the answer is quite different:

Perhaps the world needs us

To make beautiful things?

Poems, paintings, music, gardens

That touch our souls

Beyond the tumble and rumble

Of the natural world.

I wonder aloud again

Does the sky need the swallow?

Or the young eagle?

I ask now from the perspective of the bird

Yes.  The answer is yes.

Without the sky how could I fly?

If I answer for myself

It is still yes, yes and yes again.

Why you ask in return.

How can we look at the sky

And not long to see the swallow, the eagle,

Even hear the song of the bem-te-vi?

Songbirds chatter in my ear.

I sit high up in my apartment

Feeling the wind from the sky

Blowing gently over me.

I look forward to connecting you with my adventures in Brazil.  It is exciting and familiar to be back in this wonderful country – a part of my life for more than 30 years.  Stay tuned.