Cachaça If You Can
17 June 2005 (Friday) – Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Carol’s apartment is on a hilly slope very near to the Corcovado. Sarah, the other guest at her place, also from Germany, Melanie and I wandered down Rua Cosme Velho and Rua das Laranjeiras, admiring the graffiti along the way, to a square named Largo do Machado.
We had some coconuts and split up to walk around by ourselves a bit. We arranged to meet back at Parme restaurant at 1pm as we were meeting Carol for lunch.
Carol took us to this restaurant that had feijoada buffet. Feijoada must be the national dish of Brazil. 10 out of 10 Brazilians LOVE it, they say. Carol doesn’t. But her case is probably so so so so rare that it did not show up on the statistic. That is probably the first solid food they put into their mouths from birth and the last thing they will plead for before they join another world.
It is black beans cooked in a stew. In some more luxurious versions, there would be meat in the stew. During the slavery days, the slaves eat beans all the time. On the off chance they found some meat, like discarded pieces of meat such as ears of pigs, nose snouts, pigs’ tails, etc…, they stewed them all together with the black beans. Now, of course, the meat are fancier chops, both beef and pork. Walking around the buffet table, there were stews with ears of pigs, some types of sausages and ribs, pork, etc… All looking black, murky and bubbly in the cauldrons.
Unfortunately for me or fortunately for me (so that I do not unwittingly pass gas), I do not fancy black beans at all. I will eat them at extreme hunger, I supposed. Otherwise, out of politeness, I would eat up to 2 beans. Not 2 spoonfuls. 2 beans.
For all the buffets I have had here, I just made a beeline for everything else, ignoring the beans. But feijoada (which is usually mixed with the rice) can indeed be tasty. I speak from experience. I had 2 beans during lunch today, so I know.
The other thing on the buffet the girls loved was deep fried banana, first premixed in a special dough. Yeah, this is wonderful. I have this in Singapore, just a little bit different, and I just love it love it love it.
After lunch, Sarah and I headed to Santa Teresa. She had been there before, but as it was a nice little trip, she did not mind doing it again. It cost only R0.60 for the tram or bondinho ride up.
First, the tram zipped through the high aqueducts, the Arcos de Lapa, almost like crossing a narrow bridge over land. Amazing view!! Then, the little tram wandered up through the meandering curves of Santa Teresa neighbourhood. Here, locals jump onto the trams and hang on to the sides. If you simply hang on, you do not need to pay. If you take a seat, the ticket guy will somehow track you down for your R0.60 payment. It is a really fun ride up through the hills, admiring the pretty colonial houses and then, when further up, the incredible views of Rio de Janeiro, always gorgeous as usual.
At the end of the line, the tram stopped for the return trip. Sarah and I jumped off. There is a favela (Rio’s slum area) further up which the tram guys warned us not to go because it is dangerous.
Some of the graffiti art I have seen on the walls here in Brazil had been really artistic, really really good. Here, at this point of the entrance to the favela, there were just spectacular works of art, full of expressions and messages, leading us upwards.
Sarah told me there is a cultural centre for children further up the hill. As she had been here before, I decided to follow her, although I have to admit, I was a little nervous at the beginning, especially after hearing the warnings from the tram guys.
However, at the cultural centre, we saw little girls dressed up in flamenco dresses and practising flamenco dance with their teacher and I was totally charmed.
Later, I wondered why I was nervous. Here, as we walked down from the hilltop, following the tram-tracks, I smiled at the residents here and there, exchanged a greeting or some remarks about their grandchild or dog and felt, yeah… I had to open up more. True, crimes do happen around favelas where people are poorer. But a smile begets another smile. In life, there are more people out there with wonderful hearts of gold. And I had already began to experience that with numerous people I just met.
Later that evening, Alexander, a colleague of Carol, who had joined us for lunch today, wanted to take us out to Lapa just to see a little of the night scene of Rio de Janeiro. That was very nice of him. He drove us through a dodgy part of town by mistake. Here, wow… we had an eyeful of the transvestites of Rio de Janeiro, dressed in micro-skirts that barely existed and G-strings with in-your-face shiny butt cheeks reflecting the car-lights back at you.
The first bar was full, so we followed some music to right under the aqueduct where the tram to Santa Teresa use to cross the city. Here, a capoeira was going on. We watched a little, enjoying the sparring (well, not really THAT much as one of the guy was not so good at all and yet, he just kept at it) and the music beats, before following more music up a busy-looking little road.
In my country, you need a liquor license to sell alcohol. Here, you just need a styrofoam coolbox, some bottles or cans of beer, cachaça and other spirits, stand on the side of the road with a rudimentary sign for the price of drinks (optional even) and you have an impromptu mobile bar. The roads around this area were completely lined with such ‘bars’. Down another street, we could see many other snack stalls and hippie handicraft stalls coming to life. The crowd was still thin, but it looked like it had potential to fill up in a few hours’ time.
We then wandered into another bar and sat there, ordered some fries and drinks and chatted away. Sarah doodled away on a piece of paper, as she always did, being the artist that she is.
Later, she suddenly asked us, if we believe in magic. I do. “Do you have a story for us?”, I asked her. She asked if we had noticed a man sitting next to her in the next table. Yep, I did, he eyed us for a while, and sat there drinking away, unsmilingly. Well, she was doodling away with her pen, and t-h-i-n-k-i-n-g about what in the world she had done with her PENCIL, perhaps she did not bring it on her trip, she missed it cos it was easier to draw with a pencil. Then, just before the guy left, he silently handed over her HIS pencil… which was an art pencil that was rather well-used. Wow!! Yes, I think there is magic!
By midnight, Allan and Catherine had arrived and found us. Sarah’s friend, Elaine from Rio, had also joined us. We took to the streets and returned to the ‘open-air’ bar of the crowded road we were at earlier. As we were hunting for toilet, Elaine brought us squeezing through the packed crowd to a bar way down the end of the street.
Wow, things were really hotting up now. The road between the buildings was completely packed with party-goers. May I remind you, this area is not a bar. This is just a road with make-shift stalls selling drinks and food and, yes, with some rudimentary bars (nothing fancy, plastic chairs and tables) spotted on both sides of the road. This is just one BIG IMPROMPTU PARTY!
People were all casually dressed as is the dress code in Rio, T-shirts, shorts, very tight and low-cut tank-tops with bursting boobs, teeny weeny skirts, etc… They come from all walks of life, there were both young and old people, all sweaty, all writhing, all dancing, all squeezing, all gathered here to enjoy the music and a lot of drinks – beer, cachaça (Brazilian national spirit made from sugar cane, very strong indeed) and caipirinha (cachaça, mixed with lime or other fruits). Again, the music are from groups of people who just felt like playing something and singing. These are not paid bands to entertain the crowds. These people are here to play music and enjoy life. I was thoroughly facinated by what was all going on around me. All the life, the atmosphere, the mood, the music, the energy, the drinking, the partying, all were just so spontaneous and effervescent!
Of course, by the time we left, there were quite a handful who had collapsed on the ground, puking away, raving incoherently or were just downright unconscious.
Tags: 02) And God Created Brazilian Women, Rio de Janeiro
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