Oh Linda!
7 July 2005 (Thursday) – Recife to Olinda, Brazil
To get from Recife’s rodoviaria to the centre, I needed to take the metro for about 30 mins, and then, to get from Recife’s centre to Olinda, I needed to take a bus. Recife and Olinda are both hot and humid. So, by the time I reached Olinda, I was soaked with perspiration. Some guy came to offer me a pousada for R25 with swimming pool and air-conditioner. That sounds fantastic but it costs too much!
I finally found a crappy place for R15. OK, you get what you pay for. Serves me right! The room, or my prison cell, as I call it, was very stuffy, with a tiny window, and was the size just slightly bigger than the bed. All I lack now were some bars for doors to complete the whole prison look.
After a cold (yes, that too!) shower to wash away all my night-bus-misery-and-persipiration-and-dirt, my first stop was the supermarket. The hostel cleaning lady had said I could NOT use the cooking oil or anything from the kitchen. Darn. Well, the huge supermarket here offered cooking oil in a very small can that was resealable. Great, just what I was looking for. I even managed to find soya sauce (of course, soya sauce… I am Chinese) in a plastic (hence, unbreakable) bottle, excellent!
Back in the kitchen, I pottered around trying to cook lunch. I prefer to be alone in the kitchen as frankly, I cannot cook and I hate to have people watching me. I could just imagine them bursting into laughter when they see the way I er… slice up carrots (or parts of my fingers), for example. And usually after the deed is done, I may need to scrape something off the wall or floor or pan or whatever… so it can be very embarrassing.
But in walked a little blonde lady preparing to cook and I got all nervy. However, she really concentrated on her cooking and pretty much left me alone. Heh heh.
It turned out she is Tatiana from Russia and she works for the Moscow Circus! I am not sure if it is THE Moscow Circus or A Moscow Circus as we communicated in a mishmash of very bad Portuguese, and yet somehow we got a conversation going. But wow, this is my first time meeting a circus artist.
She picked up the language just by working here in Brazil, for she had been here more than a year in various cities in the northeast. I was very interested in what she did and asked her to explain. She explained that she did 3 numbers in the circus – one, something to do with balancing on tables and other assorted acrobatics that included twisting the body backwards or whatever; the second, I did not understand but something to do with ropes thrown in various patterns… and the third, she would dress up inside a huge bear costume as a dancing bear and dance with another bear. Wow!!! This was so interesting! She looks more than 50 years old, with the wrinkles on her face, but she is very small and very, very strong. Yes, I felt her muscles. She had been training at the circus since she was 8, and performed when she reached 16 or so. She will continue to work in the circus for life. Yep, the circus is her life.
I mean, it is great for she had travelled to many, many countries and experienced so many cultures and languages and she really loves working in the circus. She talked about the cities and countries she had been to and we realised with a laugh when we discovered we had both been to Salalah, Oman. Come on, Oman… and, what the hey, Salalah too? What are the odds?!?!?
There were many guides hanging around Praça Carmo when I headed out for a walk. They were very persistent. I usually needed to say ‘não obrigada’ a maximum of three times before the person would leave me alone. But these guys followed me, shoving their GUIA identification card right at my face, one after another… and after my sixth or seventh ‘não obrigada’ for the last guy, I just stopped there and stared at him in disbelief. He then left.
When I tried to head up Rua São Francisco as I figured there would be something to see, the guy came over again, telling me this street was dangerous. I got fed up. I marched into the Tourist Information Centre nearby and asked them for a map and where would be safe to walk. The person in there told me, it was safe to walk Rua São Francisco for sure.
Back at Rua São Francisco, the boys hanging around there, started shutting abusive words “F#@k you!!! F#@k you!!!” at me. Just because I did not take up their guide services… sheesh. I saw up ahead a couple who looked like tourists and caught up with them, asking if it was okay that I joined them. I mean, the guide told me this road was dangerous when it was not. I just did not want it to be ‘dangerous’ because the guides themselves after me later or whatever.
Well, these guides were former street-children, I read later in the guidebook. They look about 12 years old and above. What they are doing now is for their livelihood which is good. But, somehow, their methods of persuasion did not appeal to me.
The couple – Ahmed and Anita – is from England and I briefly asked them about the London bombing I had just heard about on the news. They explained in more details to me. I was shocked. Yesterday had been a day of jubilation as London had just won the bid for Olympics 2012 and today, t-h-i-s!
Well, when we visited the first convent, a guide in there showed us around and I soon found myself translating for them. Yeah, even yesterday in Salvador when I was buying my bus ticket from a travel agency, I also helped out an English tourist with all his queries. Wow, I went from “Não falo portugues.” in Porto Alegre nearly 3 weeks ago, to freelance (and free) translation and rudimentary question-and-answer sessions for tourists now.
They had both started their trip in Manaus and as we walked from church to church, they went on to tell me several of their disasters that they had had. In Manaus, Anita, after two caipirinhas, had tripped over the pavement and fell down on her face, cutting her lip and having a gash on her forehead!! And Ahmed, during their Amazon tour, had fallen into the river… what, with caymans and all sort of exotics and he can’t swim!!! He told me, he just sank down and down for quite a while wondering if this is how it all ends… here, in the murky Amazon River… before someone managed to pull him up. And his digital camera was totalled. My goodness, what experiences!
Still, they kept their spirits up, although they asked me where in the world are all the beautiful Brazilian ladies they had heard so much about?? They, or rather, Ahmed in particular, had been thoroughly disappointed. Well, they started their trip in the Amazon!! Rrrrrriggghhhtt…. However, I warned them they would NOT find any in Salvador either. In Rio, yes, but only at selected beaches. Good luck! I had been rather disappointed as well.
We entered Cathedral da Se which is located at the top of a hill, and behind, in the courtyard, there is a great view of Olinda. This was where the Portuguese looked out to the sea and the green vegetation and declared, “Oh… linda!” (Oh… pretty!). Hence, the name – Olinda. Isn’t it sweet?
I have a slight claustrophobia and originally, I had wanted to get the guys in the hostel to find me another room with a bigger window. But by evening, I realised that there are many, many mosquitoes and sand-flies here in Olinda!! I was bitten senseless cooking dinner in the kitchen that night. I am so keeping my small window shut!!!
Tags: 03) The Land of the Spirits, Olinda
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