I might be too old for this....

Three photos of my day.....the funniest sign I have ever seen in a airport bathroom...my room at the posada (bed and breakfast)....sights from my wandering "off path" today (many of the houses have those "eye-shaped" windows in them....weird).

OK, boarded the flight last night at 9 PM. With a time change of 2 1/2 hours forward, I arrived in Sao Paulo, Brazil at 4 AM. WOOT WOOT. This airport in one of the largest and most modern cities of the world was a loose maze of cement tunnels and steel beams-disappointing. I drank TWO double expressos and read Gone With the Wind until my next flight at 7:30. The only problem was that in the domestic flight wing, there were just a series of doors and a woman incessantly yelling out flight numbers and city names and gate numbers IN PORTUGUESE, rather than a board with flights and gates listed. I muddled through and made it on the plane only to find out my seat was double booked. The exit row was open but for some reason I didn't look "responsible" enough to sit there so I was standing in the aisles with my two carry-ons in hand, waiting to be told where to sit until we LITERALLY were taxi-ing to the runway.

The Salvador airport is tiny and I was out in 7 minutes. There are women walking around in costumes looking like Mammy from Gone With the Wind, greeting people and answering questions. I guess they embrace that "heritage" here. It just didn't feel right to me for some reason, to take their picture though. On the flight in and during the taxi ride I decided that Salvador is like a collision of Savannah, GA and any coastal city in West Africa with parts of each sprinkled together. The red clay and coastal sand fight for dominance on the earth and the houses speak of a rich heritage of colonial rule, modern visions, and African roots. The best part is the faces though....there is no "majority" here. Every shape, color and culture is represented in each glance through the crowd. Sigh....I have missed that.

My posada is gorgeous. It is owned by a Brazilian woman and her French husband. They live here along with their two teenage sons. They only speak Portuguese and French, so, once again, my French is saving me. I am finding Portuguese very frustrating. It is more of a mix of Italian and German so I understand little to nothing and feel like a mute. Despite that, I did shower and go on a treck today. I made one wrong turn, and instead of ending up in the historical district (a 15 min walk), I ended up a 15 min. walk into the not so well kept district-a bit scary. There are SO MANY analogies about wrong turns in life and where you end up....you can make them. Suffice to say, after 32 hours of almost no sleep and only two double expressos in my stomach, I was desperate to get food. It took me almost 2 hours to "find" my posada again and then retrace my steps to the turn I should have originally taken.

When I finally found my path, I stopped at the first little mom/pop restaurant I found. WELL, it happened to be owned by a family of descendants from West Africa and the dishes all had West African flavors. SCORE. I had a meat dish with pounded cassava root-YUMMINESS! I will probably go back several times to taste more. The owner sat at a table next to me talking to an old man in an African langauge that had several familiar phrases....my fav. was the repetition of wooooo(with an intonation that goes from low to high). Hadn't heard that in so long...my ears and tummy were happy. (Although, they only brought me a spoon to eat with-guess they thought my hands would work -and I had a heck of a time asking for a fork.)

After that late lunch, my feet were killing me from my wanderings on the hillside. I was drenched in sweat (it is about 95 degrees and WET with humidity) and exhausted so I collapsed into bed for a 3 hour nap. I woke up thinking about a walk to find  some dinner but decided to stay in for the night rather than get lost again-only this time, in the dark. (Again, life analogy...take it and run ..).

What was I thinking? On my flights I was thinking about how uncomfortable it is to be tall in that cramped space. When I arrived in Salvador and realized how few people speak English, I was thinking that it was going to be a very challenging week getting around. I was also thinking how much I love beach culture but hate the heat and humidity (as my clothes were soaked with sweat and sticking to me). I was nervous today when I was in the wrong neighborhood. I kept changing sides of the street and using my peripheral vision to watch people. After my nap, I was thinking that I had had enough for the past 48 hours but was guilt tripping myself for not maximizing every minute to explore Salvador. An early wake up and walk plan won out over a night time adventure this time. Tomorrow I head to the parades-I bought a ticket to a private viewing area because I was thinking I would be too overwhelmed in the crowd. I am still nervous though-getting taxis, finding the location, getting food and drink, not getting pick-pocketed....

I just might too old for this....=)