The Muddy-Pants Diaries

28 June 2005 (Tuesday) – Gruta de Maquine, Brazil

Yesterday morning, I was at the rodoviaria for quite a while, deciding what my future days would be. One of the decisions made then was to take the bus to Gruta de Maquine today, a cave, some 112km from Belo Horizonte. While the decision had been made then with MUCH thought, I ended up wondering TODAY… what in the world I was thinking then!

Firstly, the bus to the cave leaves at the ungodly hour of 6:30am and returns at 4:20pm. I had brought along my mobile-phone to be used as an alarm clock but as I had not been able to recharge it here in Brazil, I had not used it since I left Buenos Aires. Thank goodness, I have another alarm clock with me, but I _found_ this clock and personally, I had never had it tested on me yet. Nevertheless, I had the presence of mind to check the battery yesterday – dead – and had the battery replaced at Mercado Central.

Throughout the night, I woke up repeatedly, concerned that I would not hear the alarm go off. I woke up at 1:40am and at 3:40am. I berated myself for my insecurity… I would hear the alarm, don’t worry, go to sleep.

Suddenly, I was woken up by a knock on the door. “Sim?“, I asked sleepily. The senhora of the hostel informed me that it was already 6am and reminded me that I had a bus ticket for 6:30am. What the hey???? Already 6am?? I scrambled out of bed and got ready in 2 minutes. I didn’t even brush my teeth!

As expected, I slept nearly the entire 3-hour ride to Gruta de Maquine and we arrived at around 9am. I was the only tourist there. I bought a ticket and a scholarly-looking elderly gentleman guided me through the caves. Something about me and caves, it seemed. In a way, after a while, they all look the same. But still, despite my slight claustrophobia and poor eyesight in the dark, I always found myself drawn to visit a cave or two. And this one was really huge and nice. The temperature totally changed the minute we entered the cave. It suddenly felt very warm. I later learnt it was because there was no fresh oxygen in the cave. The guide showed me various formations and explained everything to me in Portuguese. I pretended to understand, and sometimes, I did understand. I even managed to ask him a question or two.

The little tour of the cave ended by 10am. I looked at my watch and calculated the time I had to wait for the return bus. 6 hours! This decision to come to Gruta de Maquine was thoroughly ridiculous. To leave at 6:30am (without brushing my teeth too!), travel for 3 hours by bus, see the cave for 1 hour, wait 6 hours, and travel 3 hours back to Belo Horizonte. Not so bright, was I? What am I to do with 6 hours??

Nevertheless, determined to overcome my ridiculous decision by turning whatever experience into something positive, I found a nice little spot near the cave entrance, took out my book to read.

There were many little birds flying around the cave entrance, popping into and out of the little holes way up where their nests must be. Meanwhile, hovering around me were various species of colourful butterflies… I called them, the Tangerine (orange-coloured) sect and the Bumble-bee (yellow and black-coloured) sect. My apologies to butterflylogists.

I heard a rustle and spied a gecko… Licky. He darted up a rock, gobbled up something, paused for a moment, then dashed off to some bushes behind. Cute.

I returned my eyes to the book for a while before spotting a tiny little green worm making his way across the ground below my boots. That would be Mr Omega, for obvious reason. I was thoroughly fascinated by Mr Omega as he made his epic journey across the endless land, so I sat staring at him for a few minutes. Sometimes, he even fell over at his most ‘omega’ position. Poor little dear.

I heard another rustle. Licky? That you? No, this was a smaller gecko, a rather sweet one – Junior. Ah, there Licky was, appearing again mysteriously behind another rock, all poised and ready. He looked around sharply and darted off somewhere. Back to the book for a while… before my eyelids felt rather heavy. I stretched out on the bench and promptly fell asleep for about an hour or so.

When I woke up, I looked around for Licky again. Nowhere in sight. Junior came scurrying by though, very pensive-looking. Now, where was I in the book… I heard some footsteps, and a big brown dog trotted by. She looked rather vague, distractingly browsing for something as she passed by me, ignoring me. That would be Nonnie, for her nonchalance attitude. She did not appear to find what she was looking for, returned the same way she came from, ignoring me again. Rustle, rustle… must be Licky again.

I must have been asleep for quite a while, as now I found a tiny little spider hanging from his thread from the end of my hair! Gosh, he must be at his first step of engulfing me in his web of deceit. Tchau, tchau, arañita! Nono, I didn’t kill him. I gently scooped him out and tossed him to a bush next to me.

Ah, hey Licky, there he was… right over there. Oh, Licky has a little girl-friend… No, wait!!! That’s NOT Licky! He’s at least 2 sizes smaller! What a horrendous mistake!!!!

And that was how I spent 3.5 hours reading Umberto Eco‘s Foucault’s Pendulum.

Overcome by hunger later, I headed to the restaurant below and ordered lunch. The TV was showing yet another football match. Hey, between Argentina and Brazil. Again?? Whatever cup it was, the score was Argentina 1- Brazil 0 at the moment. I was munching away when I heard GGGGGOOOOOOOOAAAALLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!! Destined to always miss goals, I looked up to try and catch the replay. But 2 guys had stood right in front of the TV set by now, basking in national glory of attaining a Brazilian goal.

I continued with lunch slowly, carefully ignoring the feijoada, and then, this time, my eyes happened to be trained on the TV set just in time to catch an Argentine goal. There was no one in the restaurant at the moment, but the commentator’s GGGGOOOOAAAALLLLL!!!!! finally drew an elderly woman into the room. She had been knitting in the far corner and must had gone to the toilet for a moment. “Goal??? Argentina? (pronounced ‘Ar-gen-chi-na’) Goal????? Argentina?????”, looking at me, with some horrors, for confirmation. I nodded. She turned back to the TV set, thoroughly despondent. Two other persons hurried into the restaurant and stared, totally crestfallen. Then, it was all over and Argentina won! Yeah!! But in order not to draw attention to my joy, I had to pretend to seriously saw my tomatoes apart.

And that was how I spent another 2.5 hours eating lunch.

Tags: 02) And God Created Brazilian Women, Belo Horizonte

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