Southern Brazil: A Trip To The Wild

Our trip to Brazil was amazing! It was book-ended by days of sun, sand, and sea, and finally, after 1.5 years, we were able to go on our honeymoon!

We arrived in Rio de Janeiro to 29 degree Celsius weather, and for the first time, I found myself in places that I just realized there were famous songs about that I'd grown up with. 

There's the wealthier district of Ipanema Beach, just like the song The Girl From Ipanema,

And of course that very famous Copacabana Beach!

I have to admit though, coming from the 7000+ islands of the Philippines, my husband and I were not as impressed with the beaches that we saw in Brazil.

But Brazil is a huge country, and to see a lot of other places worth seeing meant a dozen plane rides, or countless hours on a bus.

By the end of our trip, or major journeys between places to see had reached a total of about 62 hours! Yikes!

From Rio de Janeiro, our first stop was Paraty, a beautiful old colonial town by the coastline. For my Filipino readers, it looked like a cross between Boracay’s D’Mall, and Intramuros. Very beautiful place, truly idyllic! It was a wonderful change from Rio’s hustle and bustle, it was much quieter here, and I felt like I was finally on vacation and relaxing.

It took about 20 hours on the road to get to our main attraction in the south of Brazil, as we travelled inland to Iguacu Falls – much grander than Niagara Falls. Here I am afraid words will fail me. I’ve got a couple of great pictures out of about 40 shots of the place, but there will be nothing like being there yourself, seeing such a magnificent wonder. Nothing. You’ll have to go there yourself to see and feel how grand this wonder of nature is. The fun part was – we took a boat ride into the falls, and got doused by one of the falls! It is a collection of about 275 falls if I remember right. Grand, and magnificent. Must see it for yourself.

I had been dreaming about going to another inland town called Bonito ever since we picked up our copy of Lonely Planet: Brazil. The place promised snorkeling in the river! Now, my husband and I had done a lot of snorkeling throughout the Philippines, off of many islands, but I had never gone snorkeling in a river before!

We spent two days going through several rivers – the first was Rio da Prata, where the crystal clear waters were teeming with a bevy of all sorts of fauna – there were the large, black pacu fish, that were always stuffing their faces with dried yellow leaves; the large, golden, sharp-toothed dourado fish that my husband fell in love with; the blue-gray elephantine snorty-nosed fish, lots of other little fishies, and my beloved orange-tailed piraputanga. The latter were really peculiar – they loved to stay by the river bank, so when you swim past them, there they would just all be there, all lined up firing-squad style, watching you, sometimes right in your face, all placid, and calm, and not worried at all that a big, clumsy oaf of a fish like you is crossing paths with them. What a delight!

Our second visit was to Baia Bonita, which presented to us a calmer river, and our first stop, just before it bled into the moving river, was something that seemed unreal. The sun had come out, and the green on the river bed was only 6 inches away from my face, as I fell onto the water, held afloat by floating vest and wet suit, lest I spoil and deface this beauty. Piraputanga right beside me. Right in front of me. Within arms reach. It was magical. I look ahead and behind the rows of piraputanga, are even more rows of piraputanga. And blue, just clear, perfect blue, it seems almost as if I were hallucinating. Everything is so picture perfect that my senses can barely believe it. Before we come in, we see the sign “Natural Aquarium,” and once I am inside, I fully realize why it’s called that.

God made this, and I can’t believe it’s real. It’s like swimming inside a gigantic aquarium, where the flora and fauna were especially chosen for your viewing pleasure. How can this be real?

From Bonito, back to Campo Grande, and from there, off to another main trek – the Pantanal. We weren’t going to make it all the way up north to the Amazon with only three weeks, but the Pantanal is much like the Amazon, according to the books, also allowing you to see a lot of animals in the wild.

And see them, we did! Great red macaws, and blue macaws, green parrots, howler monkeys, the shy coati (they look like raccoons, but have a longer snout), two jaguar-skinned anacondas that were beautiful and yellow-black in the sunlight, loads of caiman lizards, and, of course, my favorite, the very cute capybara (the world’s largest rodent). He was so cute! He reminded me of a hippo and horse at the same time, only smaller. He loved the water, and so we saw him during our boat ride, there, sitting by the river bank, hiding amongst the thick vegetation.

We also went piranha fishing, and though I didn’t catch one, and we had to fight off hordes of very angry, very nasty, extra large mosquitoes, my husband was the first to catch one, and catch a beautiful one he did. Its skin shone like an opal gem in the sunlight, its fins flapping in despair, trying to escape, wanting to swim back to safety. My husband couldn’t stand the look of sorrow in the fish’s eyes, and our guide came over to gut his throat.

We ate the caught piranhas for dinner. Deep fried, with some lime.

There was horse-riding the next day, and it had been ten years since I’d ridden a horse. Once I was on and we started walking, it felt marvelous, magical even. Not a machine under you, but a living being, a creature who can run and roam the earth freely, and you sit atop him, this magnificent creature of the earth. You can feel his power as you both walk the fazenda together (much of the wild is privately owned by farm and cattle owners, called fazenda in Portuguese, and hacienda in Spanish).

At our fazenda also lived two tamed peccaries (they have bristly hides, and look almost like the wild board, minus the tusks), and a gaggle of Chinese and European geese. They were quite entertaining!

And that was it. At least, the highlights really worth telling, and I’m afraid my one paragraph has turned into several pages.

By then it was time to travel back to Rio de Janeiro again, back to the city, time to leave the wild. We saw the famous Cristo Redentor up close, and went atop the famous Sugar Loaf to see the famous view of Rio from it during our last days.

And now I’m back. With a tan. Thank you, sun, sand, and sea.

Makes a few more chilly days in Prague bearable.

Snow Outside My Window

This was written just a couple of days before the New Year, while looking out the window onto Marianske Lazně, Czech Republic.

It started snowing last night. And oh, the magic.
When we arrived there was already a layer of snow to greet us at the Colonnade.
They were melting in patches, but still made me feel so romantic.
Now what's different here is I can't just take my notebook with me and write on the beach. It's freezing outside, so instead, I'm in my silk robe, sitting by the window, watching the snow fall.
It started snowing again last night, and it was magic to see the little balls fall into my gloved hands. When we awoke this morning, there was snow everywhere.
It started snowing again when we went out for a walk, and it kind of hasn't stopped since.

I feel in love and content, as I sit here, listening to Stacey Ken, lost in my imagination, letting the music take me and looking out at the snow snowing on.
Everything is coated with it, the branches all have a 2-inch layer of snow over them, anything in excess falling off.

Snow on, snow.
We will be greeted by a marvelous, white, new year.
Our last days of 2011 have been spent in a blur of wintery walks through the snowy park,
Massages,
And hot meals in between.

The creek rushes on in the park,
A man walks by hidden under a furry hood.
The snow pelts on,
Perishing as it hits the salty path.

There's another couple, hidden in silhouettes and shadows,
Making their way through the thick blanket of snow
That has covered the park.

There's a girl who's bent over to grab a snowball,
As her companion starts laughingly rushing away.

It was oppressingly cold some mornings headed to work,
But Winter has made up for it,
As she snows on,
Almost in celebration,
As well as apology,
Wanting to make up for the cold
By making everything beautiful
With her glorious virgin white
Snow falling down outside my window,
Some fat globs of snow, so heavy,
Giving way to gravity,
Some tiny flakes one can barely make out,
Umbrellas have been taken out,
And winter has lovingly adorned those as well
With layers of frost.

Snow and winter everywhere.
Embracing the streets,
Coating the fir trees,
Just falling everywhere in its own glorious celebration
Of purity and beauty,
Sugary snow covering dirty pavements,
And blanketing railings,
And caressing naked tree branches.
Glorious white flakes from the heavens
Bidding 2011 farewell, you were a beautiful year,
And smiling in turn to the New Year with a glint in her eye.

Snow outside my window.

Orange Dugong

Orange Dugong (08.11.11)

My sleepy orange dugong,

Deep deep breaths in an ocean of orange gingham,

My sleepy husband,

Far away in slumber

And right beside me
This funny orange mermaid with no hair

Swimming in a sea of orange squares.

My orange mermaid all awash in orange late night light.

Somewhere Between Vintage Wine and Post-Communism

Listening to amazing music on iradio at the moment (Jose Padilla & K. Keatch - Dragonflies on Chilltrax). Quite inspiring at 23:00, the world dark and cold outside, husband fast asleep and tired from a long day at work.

And me, just here, having time to my thoughts, myself, and all these precious words that exist all around me, which is wonderful.

Just a few days away from Sunday, about which I have something remarkable to say: spent Sunday afternoon with my husband and in-laws drinking a ten-year old bottle of wine. Can you call it vintage wine then, if it's already ten years old? That was, I would say, the oldest bottle of wine I'd ever drunk, and what a truly fine wine it was, really wonderful. Nice way to spend Sunday, as we spent hours throwing ideas about how to entertain my family when they finally visit us here in April or May.

As I get older, my parents just seem to me smarter, and smarter.

Before I moved here to CZE, I used to wonder at my father's judgement whenever he would stop all talk about my moving here, and simply say, "Oh. Well. Isn't that a Communist country?"

It seemed like such a criticism, and so I would just wave my hand at the comment and say, feeling superior, that it no longer was a Communist country, and that was that.

But I've been here in Czech Republic for nearly a year, and now my father's honest, very simply-put comment has never seemed smarter.

One year later, I realize how smart he was to say that.

It was only recently a Communist country, and only very recently has it opened up its borders to the rest of the world. As the occassional Filipino or Chinese enters society here, taking the bus, marrying one of their own, so I co-exist with babičky (grandmothers) who take the bus with me, and stare in wonder/shock/awe/surprise (and sometimes resentment, confusion, and suspicion) at me, this Asian woman who has suddenly invaded, entered their land.

I never quite understood it from my perspective, coming myself from a post-colonial country such as the Philippines, from a good family, with a good education, maids and drivers and security guards and servants at our beck and call.

I never quite understood it until one of my Czech students of English spoke about how his grandmother was so shocked, to see today's world, just fresh after a decade of the Wall crumbling down, and she sees, unwittingly, large advertisements of nearly-naked girls advertising French underwear, or bikinis.

After all, her world didn't even have any such thing as this strange wonder called advertising.

And finally, I understood what my father was saying.

"Czech Republic. Wasn't that a Communist country?"

And he didn't mean any bland, uneducated judgement by it, no political incorrectness with no backbone.

After all, my father himself is the offspring of two Chinese immigrants who escaped a Communist China to start a new life in the Philippines as well. So, I found, one year later, that he certainly knew what he was talking about.

Czech Republic was only recently a Communist country, and this world isn't yet quite used to well-to-do, educated Asians.

It's actually a rather homogenous country, the Czech Republic is. It is really, mostly white.

My father is so smart. That's all I can say at the moment, as I attempt to make sense of the past 11 months I've lived in a foreign country, where I'm not treated as special as I used to back in Manila, when servants would defer to me, and people would amaze at my perfect English, in a post-colonial, post-American country like mine.

This, here, is a new frontier for me.

Things I Just Don't Get

Okay, things I just don't get.

Why it was that people started deciding that Emma Stone was hot.

Really???

I think she's a great comedian, but she's definitely no Sofia Vergara.

I don't know which people in the media started depicting her as some attractive siren.

God bless her heart, but what is wrong with the world? And people's tastes?

The other thing I don't get is why that Vietnamese baby the gay couple adopted in Modern Family has progressed from looking really Asian, to looking whiter and whiter and more Eurasian/Amerasian, than actually full-on Asian (see the changes "Lily" from Seasons 1 and 2).

Are these producers trying to look politically-correct by bringing in an Asian character into the story, but are in reality, racist, since that Asian character has, over the the episodes I've seen, grown whiter in skin tone, and browner in hair color?

What is going on, and why don't people see this???

Christmas Market

It's been awhile since I've touched base, and written here.

I've been writing. Putting together drafts of several short stories that are at present a mess.

Since I've written here, I've been busy putting in hours of English teaching, and acting on the stage. The latter is very important, after having finished M. Gladwell's book Outliers,  his words about putting in your 10,000 hours of practicing something till you are master of something (be it computer programming, playing the violin, or acting) have stayed with me. So ever since then, I've put in as many hours as I could into acting, and have been busy with the Bear Educational Theatre (http://www.thebeartheatre.com/) and StageStars (www.stagestars.cz).

Now Christmas is approaching and I wanted to write briefly about my visions and sights and experiences of my second Christmas here in the Czech Republic.

That was two years ago that I visited Czech Republic for Christmas, and I knew that once Christmas season rolled around the corner that I could once again stroll about the charming Christmas markets that dot the capital, and take a whiff of the scent of cinnamon and svařak (mulled wine) in the air, maybe enjoy some trdenlník (a delightful cinnamony pastry) together with horka medovina.

The winter so far has been fairly mild and kind, but of course I'm probably speaking too soon. It isn't January yet, after all!

But today was sunny over at Kladno, where I played two shows for the Bear. I swear it must have been up to 10 degrees Celsius today.

And oh, the visions of Christmas markets everywhere, I can't get enough of it, and it makes me pine for someone I can hold hands with, but at the same time I enjoy being alone at any one of them, just strolling along, looking at the Christmas wares, the handmade angels, the gloves, the klobasa, the home-made lavender lotions and other delightful things.

It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, with the twinkling lights, and the giant fresh Christmas trees in the middle of everything, staring happily down at us, proudly standing there all bedecked in Christmas finery.

Going Back

The truth is that I've gone slightly wayward and have attempted to put up two other blogs, and just ended up confusing myself. Someone close to me has suggested that instead of blogging left and right and hoping to get some internet traffic that I should just focus on writing the book I want to write.
So I'm just trying to explain why it is I have disappeared from here for a while, missing the entire August altogether to update you.

And that's why.

I've tried opening a new blog, something about a Filipina Abroad, and now barely remember the password, the email address, and the blog address, after one entry.

Not that I've stopped writing.

I write, when it's nearly the close of my day, like right now. Always around 22:00 or 23:00.

Just when the world has gone quiet, before I shut off for the night, since I need to continue my day job, at least one of several part-time jobs I currently hold just to keep my life interesting.

I write.

I have three files I add to when I can, one about dreams, one about a family saga, and one a diary for my thoughts, since sometimes it's just faster to type away at the keyboard than write everything by hand on my pretty notebook.

I write. Sometimes on the metro, to describe people, or just to write down how I feel, which is always something I've done ever since someone gave me a Hello Kitty luxurious notebook when I was 9 years old, and I haven't stopped since. There have been years when I don't write as much, but I have never stopped.

I hold Malcolm Gladwell's chapter on the 10,000 hour rule next to my heart, the last chapter I've read so far from his book Outliers: The Story of Success.  About how it takes roughly 10,000 hours, or 10 years of keeping at the same thing before you can achieve mastery, perfection, or at least get good enough that you can start producing some really good stuff.

So in effect, I've come back to acting, almost by default. The message was not about how much you can earn from something, but about doing, and doing, and doing something over and over again, until you get really, really good at it.

What else have I had at least a few hours of work on but acting?

Next comes the writing, which is a hobby for now, something which came to me as a work opportunity a few years ago which I turned down. So I will write, when I can, at the close of the day.

As for acting, well. I'm glad to have found an acting post with a little theater group, and one that I can make a living out of. I think that is important, and in an ideal world, don't we want to making a living out of what we love and enjoy doing?

I would also love to go back to broadcasting, as I had done in the last three years, as a radio announcer, as the voice of TV and radio commercials. I quite loved that.

But until then, I can't be resting on my laurels, telling everyone how I miss it, and how I wish I could be doing it again. So the work isn't there. Not in English, not in the Czech Republic, not yet, not today.

But the acting is, in some way.

I also hold some phrases close to my heart from this book I encountered called Who Moved My Cheese? - something about how you roll with change, and instead of resting on your laurels, thinking you're all special and everything, that one ought to embrace new things, no matter that they may be humbling. Doesn't something new stimulate us, make us feel younger, when we're learning something new? So this is what I'm telling myself, as I embark on a semi-new chapter in my life this week.

I've said goodbye to the bookstore I work for, because I need to do other things. I need to be spending my time acting, performing. I need to spend my time pursuing my life's passions, devoting hours to doing these. Not shuffling books around or sending emails or organizing people. I need to write, because that is another passion, another great pleasure.

I need to act, I need to perform, I need to be in front of an audience.

And so here we are.

That's all I wanted to say for now, I guess. Blogging's good too, until I have enough for a book.

It's good practice.

I am considering changing the title of my blog, without having to create a new one, or try to remember the information on the new one I tried to create a few weeks ago.

I am considering writing about food, since I love food, and can't stop photographing my cooking as well as the food I eat when I'm out. I wont be an expert, and no chef and talk about fancy cooking terms, but I do love food. That's something I am toying with. I'll send you a food story soon, try it small, and let's take it from there.