Ups and downs of living abroad

It might seem from my blog posts and my facebook comments that since I came to Brazil, I have been living a life of eternal happiness, with no worries to disturb me. It is true that I’ve been having an amazing time on this exotic continent. I have a job that I absolutely love. At the same time I have enough free time to discover the wonders of this intriguing country. I have been meeting super nice and kind people who are always ready to help me. I have deeply fallen in love with Canario (who is a horse for those who haven’t read my story Getting off my high horse) and when the distance separated us (I moved to a new city in March this year), I found a new passion in the house of circus – acrobatics. If it wasn’t enough, I eat every day the most delicious exotic fruits which make me happy already just with the colourfulness. The sun is shining for about ten hours a day, people always smile and laugh. It is true, I’ve had a fairy-tale-like life. However,…

Even fairy-tales have a hidden part in their story… I have not written much about the downside of my stay in Brazil because once I felt down, the words just wouldn’t come. Now that my time in Brazil is heading to its end, I feel that I own to anyone who has been following my blog to give them the full picture of the fairy-tale. It is not to moan, complain or criticize. It is to show that life abroad isn’t always as easy and exciting as one might imagine.

One of the “issues” that I needed to deal with is that I am evidently a foreigner. Who doesn’t guess it from my appearance, knows it the minute I speak. Although my Portuguese is now good enough for fluent communication, my accent gives me away. That has great advantages and disadvantages at the same time. On one hand, I feel that people are even friendlier to me than they are to their fellow countrymen.I’m always the first one to be offered help, explanation or guidance. At events, the guests that are the celebrity of the night take pictures with me and seem to be really happy that I talk to them. Once I went to an author reading and although there were five writers who just published their book, I was asked to read parts of it to the audience.

Thanks to this constant attention that is paid to me, I must say that I hardly ever feel lonely or deprived of human contact. On the other hand, this exact same attention has been also a source of some unhappiness that I experienced. Every single day I meet a new person. Whether it is in a supermarket, at university, in a theatre or on the bus, there is always always somebody new who realises I am not Brazilian and they are curious to know more about me. The conversation then goes like this:

“You’re not from here, are you?”

“No. I’m from the Czech Republic.”

“Oh really? That’s cool. What do you do here?”

“I teach English at UNESP.”

“Wow, that’s great. Your Portuguese is really good. How long have you been living here?”

…and it goes on for about five minutes….

It is sweet and I really really am grateful to all those who engaged in a conversation with me. But it is also tiring. If I count it, I have lived in Brazil for about 400 days. On some days, I speak with one new person, sometimes with three, five or even ten. I think that on average, it is about 3 new people each day which means that I answered exactly the same set of questions about 1200 times. At some point it really gets exhausting and I’ve been terribly longing for deeper conversations.

The second source of some sort of sadness is the indifference that I see around me towards culture. It is absolutely incredible how many free cultural events the city where I live offers. There are regular theatre performances, art exhibitions, concerts and so on. Free of charge, really! Yet the auditorium often remains half empty. Maybe the time of the events is not good for the too many-hours working nation, maybe the events are not sufficiently advertised. Or maybe there is simply lack of appreciation of the art. In either case, it’s been quite a struggle to find a company to those events and it’s not always fun to go, be and leave a play on your own.

Last but not least point to write about is the cultural difference. I think that most strongly I feel it at work and at public institutions. Imagine you need a document to be signed, for example. In Europe you find the person responsible for this. You go to their office, politely explain why you need it, ask them for help, get the help, you say “thank you” and you leave the office. It is a matter of about 5 minutes. In Brazil, however, things work differently. You find a person who can take the document to the person responsible for the signature. You go to their office and friendly ask how they are doing. If you know something about them, you ask some follow-up questions (for example, if you know they just came back from holidays, you must ask about it). If you don’t know anything about them, you mention the weather. You either say that it is extremely hot today or it is raining cats and dogs and you wait for their reply. You continue the small talk ideally for at least 5 minutes. Then you can finally explain why you came to see them. You kindly ask if they could take your document to the responsible person. They say they could and they ask you to wait. (No, you cannot leave and come back later.) You wait. In your waiting time, the person has a five minutes small talk with the responsible person. Then your document is signed. Most likely the person who took it to the other office will meet a friend in the corridor and will exchange a few words with them. If you are lucky, they meet only one friend so after about 10 or 15 minutes of your waiting, your document is in your hands and you can leave the office. You say “thank you” and you leave. It is a matter of about half an hour to have the document signed.

This was making me extremely impatient. At start I just felt that having a small talk with anyone I meet, was an incredible waste of time. I was focused on my task and wanted to have it done. Time for talking was after work. I can’t really say that I would get fully used to the Brazilian mode, but I started to appreciate it as much as dislike it. It is probably not the most efficient working pace, but it makes you feel more like a human being.

All in all, I think that Brazilians incredibly value personal relationships. It taught me a lot, it gave me a lot. Once again, I really do not want to complaint about it. Rather I hope I made a point that in order to be able to enjoy the country fully, I had to push my patience to its limits and give up on some of my views. It is not a bad thing. It’s just not an easy thing. And this is how it goes. Living abroad is great, but it is not effortless.

Cycling in Brazil

Last March I moved to Bauru, a midsize city in the state of Sao Paulo (Brazil is a federative republic divided into 27 states, by the way). By the time, I had lived in the country for about five months so I had already experienced the tragedy of the national public transport. City buses are limited, unreliable and baking hot so as much as it is possible, one tries to avoid using them. For most, the alternative to the nerving city bus system is a car.  For some, the alternative is a bicycle. I decided to join the few and bought a bike. The new two-wheels friend (called Wendy) was a gift from heaven and a way to hell at the same time.

Why a way to hell? Brazil is unreliable in many different ways but one. You can be nearly sure that either you’re going to have a scorching day with heat that pushes limits of survivable temperatures,  or you’re going to have heavy showers that nearly prevent you from seeing what is in front of you. In the first case, there is a high risk of dehydration and sunburn if you cycle. In the second, you nearly risk drowning.

Next to the weather conditions, there is also a problem with the nation’s obsession with cars. They simply LOVE them. Cities and their infrastructure are  usually designed to satisfy this passion and little space is left for cyclists. It means not only that it is rare to find bike routes, but also that cyclists are not respected on the road. Cars do not overtake bikes with a safe distance as a common sense rules. They simply go as if they were the only ones on the road making your heart beat twice as fast. I believe that cycling in this country is one of the most dangerous activities you can possibly engage in.

On the other hand, my new hobby proved to have many unexpected positive side effects.  Despite all the difficulties, there is actually quite a strong cycling culture. It is visible mainly at the weekends when the traffic is not as strong.  But even that is great. Thanks to Wendy I met lots of cool people of the same interest which was also a great way to integrate into the local community. Every weekend I can feel  that I’m part of a group. We all love cycling and that’s what unites us. I’m not the stranger or the different one anymore.

In addition, life with Wendy feels more secure in a certain way (let’s forget about the cars for a while). Walking on a street at night can be very unpleasant. Guys shout at girls, whistle at them, make comments about their physical looks and so on. Although none of that is particularly dangerous, it is extremely uncomfortable. But Wendy is there to help. My fast companion can get me through the streets quicker than anyone can realize my presence so together we manage to escape all the discomfort.

Bicycle also enabled me to get to beautiful places around Bauru which would not be reachable by public transport. Every weekend I can easily run away from the  noise and pollution of the city and enjoy the peace and tranquility of the countryside. (Due to the heavy traffic, Brazilian cities are extremely noisy. The thing that struck me most when I went home for summer was how quite the capital of my country was. Imagine, if I consider Prague quite compared to Bauru, how noisy it must be here!)

I would say that cycling is on its rise here. There’s a lot that needs to be done before people can fully enjoy this great mean of transportation, but I can see that things are improving. For example, I was very happy to learn that you can actually get your bike on a bus without much hassle (that might be a problem in many European countries).  If needed, you can even hitch a ride with your bicycle. And finally, I was very pleased to find that there are also some longer distance cycling trails with signposts there are reasonably easy to follow.

Fearful, welcoming and heroic

“You trust her?”

“Well… I don’t know. Not really. What do you think?”

“I don’t think so. What would a girl on her own do in the mountains? She’s definitely with somebody. They will be hidden in the bush and once we get out of the car, they’ll rob us and who knows what else… ”

“So what will we do with her? You told her we would come back.”

“She won’t be there anymore. I said fourty minutes but it’ll be two hours at least. She’ll have disappeared byt the time. ”

 

Two hours later…

“She’s still there! I can’t believe it. I’ll just keep driving past.”

“You can’t do that. What if she really needed water only?”

“Seriously?! Come on!”

“OK, look. You keep driving and I’ll go to talk to her. Stop further ahead and if anything just turn the car and come to help me. All right?”

If I should use three words to describe Brazilians, I’d say “fearful, welcoming and heroic.” I’ve been wanting to write about my perception of the nation for quite a while but I couldn’t find the right words. Better than anything will be to tell you a story of how I scared two strong men who thought I would steal their car and tie them in the woods before they finally realised that it was a redicolous idea and warmly welcomed me in their house.

The introductory conversation happed more or less as such (as I was told larer) between two men who met me in the mountains. We crossed our ways at a place wherewas suppose to be a small guest house. I was planning to refill my water bottles and camp nearby after a whole day walk. Unfortunately, when I arrived, I only found an abondened hut.

Let’s take it from the beginning. How did I find myself once again lacking water under the incredibly hot Brazilian sun?

I went hiking to Serra de Canastra, a beutiful national park in Minas Gerais (a neighbouring state of Sao Paulo.). I filled two big bottles with water and took another small one just in case of an emergency. The guest house was suppose to be 18 km far away from my starting point. The next one would be another 20 km more so I planned to spend the night by the guest house.

I enjoyed a beautiful day. Finally I made it to a Brazilian national park which I started to believe was impossible (seriously, getting to place like this in Brazil is a real challenge. Hiking is definitely not common in most parts of Brazil so finding information on where and how to go is nearly impossible.)

It was a hot day and my bottles were getting empty. It was worrying me a little bit but I tried not to spoil the beauty by any bad thougts,  such as what if the guest house is closed…

It wasn’t closed really as I discovered a few hours later. It simply was not there at all.  Instead of a welcoming refuge,  I only found a very old house which seemed to be abandoned for years.

Hm…  So the next place is 20 km away, it’s some 35 degrees, I’m left with only a half liter of water, I saw (what I thought were) wild cat’s footsteps and I have no more energy to continue for today? Not very cool,  I thought and went swimming into the refreshing river to come up with a plan. When I got out,  I decided to go and check the old house. I wanted to see if I could find a pot that would allow me to boil the river water to make it drinkable.

I left my back pack by the river and started walking. After about ten minutes I saw a car.  I couldn’t believe it. Just when I leave,  the car passes exactly where I spent the last hour worrying about my future! I started to run and scream. They didn’t hear me.  I run as if the wild cat was running after me. The car finally stopped.

“My goodness. Thank you for stopping. I was walking the whole day here from Delfinopolis. I thought there would be a guest house where I could stay over night but there’s nothing and I run out of water.  Wouldn’t you have some,  please? ”

“Well, we’re just going down to the town and will be back in about fourty minutes. If you want,  then you can come with us and refresh in my house.”

After they left me, they started to discuss what kind of threat I could pose. As I understood later,  the two guys were actually really afraid of me. When they came back, the car stopped a few meters ahead of me and one of them walked towards me.  We talked for while and when he finally understood that I needed nothing but water,  he spent about thirty minutes telling me how dangerous the place was for a girl.

“Here? In the mountains? Really?”

“Yeah, really. There are bad people from the city coming here. They steal your things and if you are a girl,  they will rape you and murder you. Nobody will ever find you.”

“Why would anyone come to steal my phone here? Has this ever happened to anyone you know?”

“No. But… ”

The conversation went on and on.  I couldn’t count how many times I’ve heard that this or that is dangerous,  especially for a girl. Whether I’m in a big city,  a small town or in the mountains,  it is dangerous to go out during the night but also during the day.  Anywhere you go,  you are risking to get robbed,  raped or murdered.  If not that,  a snake,  a spider,  a wild cat or the heat will get you. If you survive,  you’ll get lost and die of starvation. Generally speaking , from what I have experienced so far in the country,  Brazilians seem to be afraid of nearly everything.

Of course, on one hand it is understandable.  Brazil has a very bad reputation and there are places where the crime rates are extremely high. For example,  in the worldatlas.com,  there are named five Brazilian municipalities among the twenty most dangerous cities in the world. Also if you watch the news,  it really seems you must die if you leave the house. On the other hand,  the horrible pictures are true for some parts,  but really can’t be true for the whole country. Unfortunately, the fear is always present among people and it prevents them from doing lots of great activities.

However, it is not only the fear that strucks me about Brazilians. They are also incredibly friendly and hospitable. The story above (as well as many other of my stories) ended up with me being treated better than a queen. I was offered delicious dinner, energetic breakfast,  I was accommodated in a private room with a big bed and its own bathroom and I had a pleasant company for the rest of the day.

Taking the fear and hospitality together, I came to the conclusion that Brazilians are a heroic nation. If they see me travelling on my own, they hardly ever trust me. In their view, my travelling stories are unlikely to be true so there is always a chance I will do them harm.  But there’s also the possibility that I am honest and I have no bad intentions. In either case they insist to take me under their protection and I become their precious guest.

Brazilians can be quite afraid, but they can be also very brave. In order to keep up with their hospitality, they are able to put the fear aside and thanks to that I can see the real beauty and richness of the country.

 

A woman in Brazil

This is a black day for Brazil and a black day for all the human-kind. A girl of 17 (according to some media 16) years was raped by 30 men.

1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10…11…12…13…14…15…16…17….18…19…20…21…22…23…24…25… 26 …27…28…29…30! Did any of them question what was happening? Try to stop the others? Had any mercy? Hesitated at least for a second? Imagined their mother in the girl’s place? Imagined their daughter in the girl’s place? Felt disgusted for their cruelty?…

The tragedy happened in Rio de Janeiro last Friday (20/05). Only six days later the girl was found and taken to her family. How was she found? One of the rapists put a video of the unconscious naked girl showing her intimate parts. The video went together with horribly disgusting comments which made it clear that she had been a victim of at least 30 criminals. The video appeared online on Tuesday and generated a very negative response towards the author. According to some media, a man who had seen the video, recognized the girl in the street and took her to her family. Six days after the rape, she was finally home thanks to somebody who saw her humiliation online.

The media informed that two of the criminals have been identified. They do not say who they are, what they do, what they like or dislike. The media also brought information about the girl’s lifestyle. What the hell? I do not want to know who she is, what she does, what she likes or dislikes. She is a victim who needs no more exposure to the public. I want to know who the bastards that hurt her so badly are and what is going to happen to them. I want to know that they will spend the rest of their life ostracised by the society and how much money they are able to contribute to pay for the best psychologist of the country to get the girl back together (how absurd of me to want that, right?).

My Facebook wall is covered with posts of angry Brazilian women (mainly) and men shocked by the cruelty. The posts have in common feelings of disgust, anger and outrage. They also criticise the machistic Brazilian society which gives a base for acts like this to happen. Indeed, in my experience, being a woman in Brazil is horrible. It starts with small things. For example, I walked into a wallpaper shop with a male friend. Despite the fact that it was me, the girl, who wanted to buy the wallpaper, the shop assistant greeted only my friend. He asked him his name and shook his hand. He ignored me, the girl. Many times I walk in the street and I can hear men commenting on my physical appearance. Other times, my male friends try to tell me that I cannot do this or that because I am a girl. Am I ridiculous to compare my small discomfort brought by these situations with a rape? Yes, these events are incomparable. Yet, they are closely linked. These small things form the base for the women’s oppression and until we say clear NO to them, more horrible things will keep happening. An oppression of a woman is not acceptable. Whether small or big. Let’s all remember that and let’s stand up against even the small, seemingly unimportant remarks.

Every eleventh minute somebody is raped in Brazil.

1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10…11…12…13…14…15…16…17….18…19…20…21…22…23…24…25… 26 …27…28…29…30…

What else could open our eyes so that we finally STOP IT?

#viajosola

More than a month ago, two Argentinian female travellers were murdered in Ecuador after accepting an offer of help from two men. The following public debate accused them (the GIRLS!!) of being irresponsible for travelling on their own and questioned their sanity. For some people it was more surprising that two girls could travel without a company of a man and accept help from strangers than the fact that two lives were violently taken.

(http://www.latintimes.com/argentine-girls-murdered-ecuador-latin-america-comes-together-asks-justice-373516)

Argentinian flag

I heard about the tragedy from a driver who gave me a lift when I was in the middle of nowhere in Argentina. I had been travelling for about one week and covered about 2000 km by hitching from Brazil to Argentina, on my own, without a company of a man. By the time, I was offered some kind of help on numerous occasions. I was hosted by a female driver in her house. I was invited for a meal and I was taken to a driver’s private thermal spa. On another occasion, I was invited to go motorcycle riding in the mountains. In neither case was I assaulted but treated very kindly with great respect.

Ju. One of the very very very very few female drivers who have ever given me a lift.

Then she even hosted me in her house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yet… Despite having all the positive experience from my solo travelling, the story obviously shook my believes about the safety of the world. Should I reconsider what I do? Should I give up on my passion of independent travelling? I don’t want to get hurt. I should be more careful. I should travel by buses and sleep in hostels or paid camping sites only. Maybe I should find a guy to travel with me. Yes, yes, that would make me much safer. I’m just too vulnerable as a single girl. A too easy target… These thoughts crossed my mind for a minute and I’m quite sure they are well in line with exactly what lots of people would advise me.

However, I believe that such thoughts are exactly what makes us women such an easy target. By reinforcing the axiom that a woman is safe only when accompanied by a guy, we accept as a norm that a single woman can be harassed and assaulted. Furthermore, by discouraging women to travel alone, we make it more dangerous for the courages few who resist and insist on their independence. The more women travel alone, the safer it will be for every one of us. If only every second driver who gives me a lift was a woman. If only every second person who invites me to their house was a woman. If only every second invitation for lunch came from a woman… That would reduce the fear of rape of 50% and travelling would become so much more interesting.

Our reaction to the event in Ecuador should take into consideration that we live in the 21^st century and we claim gender equality. The human history is full of examples of men travelling and discovering the world. Whether they travelled to conquer new territories, to describe new continents or to join wars fought to gain freedom or enslave others. When men travelled, it was celebrated. When they died on their adventures, books were written and monuments were built to glorify their memory and achievements. A man travelling and dying is a hero. A woman travelling and dying is a stupid naive creature who got what she provoked. This is not the way it should be understood! Not any more.

By the way, after I heard the horrible story, I still continued hitching and accepting offers of hospitality. I spent two nights with two guys (that I had met a night before) in one tent in the mountains and I did not get raped, nor murdered.

On the contrary, I also spent a few nights in a hostel where a guy locked me in a room and was forcing me to kiss him. I also stayed over night in a paid camping site where my purse got stolen. Based on the two bad experiences I could conclude that conventional travelling is dangerous and I should stay away from hostels and camp sites. Of course I will not draw such a conclusion. It was just a bad luck and I know that there are millions of people having good experiences with conventional accommodation (including me). In a similar way, one horrible story from Ecuador should not overweight the millions of good stories from all around the world. Girls do travel alone and they have great stories to tell. We should listen more to the good ones and let them encourage us. I believe that only when women stop to fear talking to strangers and they start fearlessly moving on their own, the world can change and become more peaceful.

During my journey around Argentina, I overcame my own fear. I had thought that I couldn’t read in maps and I would always get desperately lost, thus I refused to ever even imagine that I could go on my own to the mountains. I thought I always needed a company of a guy to keep me safe from my navigation skills. Well and then I was in the Aconcagua national park with no guy to help me. And I decided to go further. With a map in hand and a backpack containing all camping gear, food and water, I reached the second base camp in an altitude  of 4200 m and then safely returned back. Doing this on my own incredibly boosted my confidence and self-esteem. My world definitely became more peaceful and much more worth living.

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Reaching the Amazonian stars

Part I: On the road

Kiri made it. She did arrive to Brazil as planned. And as planned back in Scotland, she was still up for hitch-hiking from Rio de Janeiro to the Amazon.

We had a month before her return flight and we were determined to make it the most enjoyable month possible. And we did! As crazy as it sounded at the beginning, we actually managed to reach the Amazon by hitch-hiking. We travelled with about 35 different drivers, we crossed eight states, covered about 3600 km of land and additional thousands on the boat. We spent 16 days on the road and about 8 days on the boat. We slept in sheds, motels with no doors on the toilet, house for immigrants, hammocks, hospital, boats, we were hosted in family houses by random people and by friends. We visited the always protesting  São Paolo, the dangerous and always alive Rio de Janeiro, the most futuristic city of Brasilia, the beautifully preserved historic city of Goias Velho, the wild life of Pantanal, the chaotic city of Manaus with its beautiful European style theatre and the most beautiful river beach of Santarem.

Sometimes we were scared, sometimes we cried and often we starved. Mostly, however, we laughed. We tasted different exotic fruits, and with fascination observed the breath taking beauty of Brazil. The hitch-hiking experience was also the best intensive language course I’ve ever had. Most drivers spoke only Portuguese which provided us with very good opportunity to pick up new words. Sometimes, however, my understanding of the language put us into a very weird situation. Or maybe I understood everything well and we actually did appear in a weird situation, hard to tell…

‘You girls are crazy,’ said the driver when we got into his car as so many had before him.

‘You know that it’s dangerous, right? There are many good people, but Brazil is also full of bad guys. You need to be very careful,’ most drivers would continue their warnings. Not this one though. Kiri and I had been already hitching for 16 days. On day 16 we had only 200 km left to the port in Porto Velho and this was suppose to be our last car.

Our experience had been very good up to that moment. But then for the very first time, we broke our rule of never entering a car with two men. We regretted it immediately.

‘You girls are crazy,’ said the driver with a sly smile. ‘But that’s good. We could enjoy some fun later in Porto Velho, what do you think? We can show you the city and go for a drink later.’

‘I don’t think so. We’re catching a boat tonight,’ I refused the offer.

‘It’s the beginning of the carnival. It’s a great time. Time of … er… orgy. You know, people having fun. Everybody having sex with everybody. There’s lots of foreigners coming for that. The foreigners love our tanned girls as we love the white girls. It’s more exotic, you know. You can have lots of fun there. What do you say?’

This guy was weird, I thought. Anything I asked him, he directed his answer to talking about sex.

‘I don’t like Brazilian guys. Plus I have a boyfriend. And Kiri is getting married next year,’ I lied to make ourselves clear that we were not into them.

‘Did many drivers try to seduce you?’ asked the driver’s companion. He was less obsessed with the sexual topics, but he couldn’t have helped himself either.

‘No. The drivers take us because they want to help and because they may be happy to talk to somebody on their long journey. That’s all.’

They laughed at the fact that I became all red. I don’t know if my colour changed because of my growing impatience with them or because of me starting to understand that the talks will just be worse and worse. It was getting very uncomfortable to be with these two in one car.

‘One of them is strong,’ I overheard the driver saying. Then they turned the music up so I couldn’t hear more. Did they realise I was listening to them?

‘We need to get out, Jana,’ Kiri summarised our situation after I told her what I had heard.

‘You girls have a GPS?’

‘Yes, we do. Always on.’

‘Jana, why the hell are they asking us about the GPS?’ I didn’t know. But I agreed with Kiri that we needed to get out of the car as soon as possible.

‘There’s a petrol station soon. That’s our best bet. I’ll tell them to stop there.’

‘Are you in touch with your families?’

‘Yeah, of course. And I live in Brazil so it’s easy for me to be in touch with my friends. I constantly message somebody about our progress so if anything happens to us, they’ll know soon.’ I lied again and realised that it would be actually a good idea to message somebody about where we are and what jerks we just encountered.

‘See, there’s a forest road over there. And then there’s a river.’

I didn’t need to hear more. I just wanted us to get out of the car immediately.

‘Can you stop at the petrol station, please? I need to pee really badly.’ I asked when we were approaching it. I was already shaking with fear but I tried to sound as light as I could so they didn’t suspect why we wanted them to stop. Then I continued asking them about their family life and other stupid things just to distract their thoughts.

The car eventually stopped. Once there were other people around us, I asked the driver for our bags and announced our decision to stay at the petrol station. He didn’t protest. Just gave me a weird look and gave us our backpacks.

We waited for about an hour for me to stop shaking and then continued to our final destination. Hitch-hiking again.

I’m not sure how much of this story happened just because of my bad translation and how much was real. They were searching for a property to buy in the area and that’s probably why they discussed the forest road. Their comments about the carnival were quite inappropriate but they were not the only ones telling us exactly the same thing. It might be that they were just unpleasant uneducated stupid jerks, but without any bad intentions. Hard to tell… In either case, it was a very strong lesson to remember that we should never ever get into a car with more than one men.

Before you jump into a conclusion that it is stupid to hitch-hike, let me emphasise how many good people we met. Some drivers invited us for lunch, others prayed for us, one lawyer gave us his card if we ever needed a legal help, a hostel owner provided us with free accommodation, a truck driver gave us a kilo of chocolates that he was transporting and a sailor got us on a boat for free. In the other situations I did not feel unsafe. People tried to protect us, to help us. Sometimes they flirted but if there was no response, they left us in peace.

Overall, I loved the experience. It taught us a lot about the country, different places, different people. We learnt what we could never learn if we travelled by any other conventional way.

Part II: On the boat

The first part of our trip was very exhausting. Always talking to somebody, switching between the languages. Never having certainty where we will be the following day or where we will sleep. Reaching the port was like reaching the heaven. We could just relax on the boat, talk to noone, worry about nothing. So I thought…

Unfortunately, while we were on the boat,  Kiri went down with the dengue fever or the Zika virus and we needed to go to the hospital since she was getting worse and worse. It was the most interesting medical experience of our lives. Her symptoms developed fully while we were in the middle of nowhere so we ended up in a hospital where you never want to end up.

‘She probably has the dengue fever or the zika virus,’ informed us the doctor and asked us to wait for the blood test results. They took us to a room where Kiri could comfortably lie down with a dip in her veins.  In the bed next to her was a pregnant woman and around us were flying a few mosquitoes.

‘Erm… Madam. Do you think we could be taken into another room? My friend might have the zika virus so maybe it’s not good if she stays together with the pregnant woman in the same room,’ I asked the nurse.

‘Ah, don’t worry. She’s just waiting for some results and she’ll be out soon.’

When I came back to the room an hour later, Kiri, the pregnant woman and the mosquitoes were still sharing the same space. I couldn’t ask for a stronger proof that some Brazilians do not believe that the brain deficiency in new borns is caused by the zika. In this hospital, they seemed to be quite convinced that there is no link. Or they were just oblivious.

Fortunately for the baby, Kiri was diagnosed with the dengue. Unfortunately for Kiri, she got the worst type of all and needed to stay in the hospital for three days since she was at risk of bleeding out.

I guess these were the three worst days of the trip for her. She was literally left on the bed and asked to wait to feel better. They didn’t give her not even a blanket nor pillow. Just the bed. They served her food which she couldn’t eat due to her diets and she was not allowed to use their phone to call her family.

This was a truly awful experience, but we survived even that. Back on the boat, we huddled into our hammocks and felt comfortable and happy again. There was one more week left for us to enjoy and we made the best out of it. We tasted the authentic Amazonian acai (exotic berries which taste horrible) and watched the most amazing night sky together on the Amazon river. With that everything, else was forgotten.

…

Thank you, Kiri, for being such a good company. I didn’t believe that I could spend a month just with one person without going crazy. I loved your jokes by which you always kept me happy however grumpy I felt. Thank you for taking great pictures and for always pointing beautiful details to me. I miss you telling me: ‘Jana, look. What a lovely bird.’ I know, my ‘hm’ as a response didn’t seem I appreciated it. But I did and all the details are now part of the great memories I’ll keep in my head forever.

The Brazilian surprises

”Er, Jana… This is a bit funny topic, but I need to explain you one thing. We don’t throw a toilet paper into the toilet. We always place it into the bin,” hesitantly explained to me one of my colleagues in the second week of my stay in Assis after the toilets in our department got blocked. Right, so now the whole language department remembers me as the girl who doesn’t know how to use the toilet.I just think that the Brazilian toilet tubes are extremely fragile. But who am I to judge? Just remember, if you ever travel to Brazil, be aware that you need to place the paper into the bin. Really, no matter what you use the paper for.

The toilet experience was just one of the many surprises that were waiting for me in Brazil. The second one was also in the bathroom. Imagine that you have an exhausting day. You arrive to a new country, everybody speaks a language you don’t understand, you meet about twenty new people a day, everybody is very friendly and wants to talk to you. Your brain is working on 100 % and by the end of the day you want to… ?? … take a shower. Despite the fact, that you live in a hot country, you know that if you want to relax and restart your brain, only warm water can do the job. So you go to your new apartment, you take your clothes off and with the highest expectations you enter the bathroom. You open the cold tap and the hot tap. The hot tap. I said the hot tap! Where is the hot tap???????? Seriously? Just one tap with only cold water? I know that Brazil is a hot country, but I really really want to take a hot shower. No-one cares about what I want. As much as I search, there is no hot tap for me. When I complained about it to my flatmates about a week later, they couldn’t stop laughing. Of course that Brazilians do have hot showers. It just works differently. You can change the temperature on the shower  itself. The only difficulty is, that it is usually attached to the wall, very close to the ceiling so if you are 158 cm tall, you are 20 cm short to reach the temperature control. “But Jana, that’s why we have the chair here. You can just step on it and easily reach the control,” said Jamille, my flatmate, and showed to me the easy system.  Ah, of course. As easy as that. Just go up and down the chair to enjoy your relaxing shower time.

 

My flatmate, standing on a chair, changing the water temperature. 

Hot water, turned out to be an issue once again when I wanted to do my laundry. Our washing machine operates with cold water only. Also it only rinses the clothes but doens’t drain them and it doesn’t change the dirty water automatically. Thus doing the laundry is very time-consuming. The machine requires a lot of human attention and only if you spend enough time together, it can provide you with   somewhat washed clothes. However, it is much kinder to the environment so it is worth the hassle.

What is not very gentle to the mother Earth though, is the Brazilian obsession with plastic bags. When you do your shopping, the shop assistants will help you to pack your grocery and they will use nearly as many plastic bags as many items you purchased. It is a bit insane, but maybe it’s not too different from Scotland before the introduction of the 5 penny charge for every plastic bag used. Passing a similar law in Brazil would be an act of mercy for the future generations, I think.

Another big topic is the Brazilian transportation system. The city bus in Assis is not very frequent and it does a huuuuuge circle around the city so it takes ages to get from one place to another. An alternative to the public transport is a moto-taxi. If you need to get somewhere fast and if you are brave enough, this is a good option. The motorbike drivers can get you from point A to point B in few minutes, plus for a really good price. In Assis, one ride is usually 6 reals (about £1 or 37 CZK) which is just a bit more expensive than the bus (2, 60 reals) and much cheaper than a car taxi (15-20 reals). However, be ready for some adrenalin. The helmet you get will most likely not fit your head so you can only pray that you won’t need it. Once I even got a ride with a driver who was using his phone. On the bloody motorbike!

In the city of São Paolo, the moto-taxi is forbidden. The traffic is too dense so it would be too dangerous. Instead, they have another transportation option. A helicopter. Since the traffic jams can be really bad and since São Paolo is a home to many rich people, there are about 200 helicopters (so I’ve been told) that provide a “taxi” service to them.

Some of the other things that I haven’t seen in Europe include a lemon squeezer (getting your lemon juice has never been easier, I swear!) and a coconut opener  (it only makes a whole in the coconut so you can enjoy the coconut water, but it actually doesn’t open the whole thing).  The most amazing thing, however, is the night sky. Yes, I know, we do have a sky in Europe. But it is not the same. Did you know that the shape of the moon is different and that the stars form different constellations? In Europe, when I was far away from people I love, I looked often at the stars. The fact that we could see the same thing no matter how far away from each other we were, made me feel connected with them. It doesn´t work in Brazil. What I see in the sky is different from what they can see. However, it´s beautiful and fascinating.

Get the maximum possible from your lemon.

 

 

I´m sure that there are many more surprises waiting for me in Brazil. Probably the best is Kiri, my friend from Scotland, who is coming tomorrow to visit me. We´re planning to spend a month travelling around the country. If we´re lucky enough, we will reach our final destination – the Amazonas. However, no matter where we´ll end up, I´m sure we´ll have the chance to discover Brazil from new different angles and what´s more, we´ll be able to watch the same night sky again.

Christmas in Rio Grande do Sul

My Brazilian Christmas experience was beautifully Czech. I think I have never drunk this much Slivovice (a traditional Czech strong alcohol made of plums) as at this Christmas. And I have never eaten this much potato salad (a traditional Czech Christmas dish) as this year. Also I´ve never had my place decorated with a Czech flag, but this year.

The Czech flag made by our host Marcos to welcome us in his family

You might remember that more than a month ago in São Paolo I met Petr, a Czech guy travelling around Brazil. Back then he invited me to spend Christmas with him and three of his friends (one Czech and two Brazilians) in Marcelino Ramos, in the southern city of Brazil in the state of Rio Grande do Sul.

 

 

Marcelino Ramos with the Uruguay river that separates the state of Santa Catarina and Rio Grande do Sul

 

His invitation was very kind but seemed a bit crazy. Travelling for more than 24 hours on the bus to spend Christmas with a guy I knew for less than a day and with three other people I´ve never met? Yes, of course. That´s crazy enough to guarantee a great Christmas.

There is a very interesting thing about the distance in Brazil. Nothing is close. In Europe, it is possible to travel for 100 km and you are in the neighbouring country. In Brazil, you travel for 100 km and you don´t even reach the neighbouring city. Therefore, in Europe I would honestly think it was ridiculous to plan to travel about 1100 km there and 1100 km back by bus to shortly see even a very close friend. However, my perception on what is a ridiculous distance changed drastically here. A thousand kilometres is nothing in Brazil so I ended up on the bus.

To be honest, however, the journey was terrible. I had got cold, I shivered with fever, I was unable to sleep properly and with my gluten-free diet I was unable to buy proper food on the way so I starved with nuts. My past European views on the insanity of long distance travelling by bus was revived. But then….

Four huge smiles welcomed me at the bus station. I was given big hugs and I could speak my mother tongue! The bus journey was totally worth it.

In the following week, I had an incredibly good time. We visited the thermal spa of Marcelino Ramos (yeah, crazy to dive into water of 35*C when outside it is 35*C), went on a walk in the nearby national park, made a trip by train pulled by a steam locomotive and gave an interview in the local radio (the podcast is available here). Mainly, however, we made churrasco, drank chimarrão and capirinha and mixed it all with slivovice.

 

Making churrasco – barbecue,

Churrasco

is in my opinion, the most popular activity of many Brazilians. They can spend hours sitting around the churrascaria (a barbecue grill), waiting for their meat to be ready and in the meantime just enjoying the company of their family or friends.

 

 

 

In southern Brazil the waiting time (either for the meat or generally for anything else) is accompanied by chimarrão. It is a hot mate served in a traditional cup called cuia and straw called bomba. There

Gaúcho preparing a new chimarrão

several rules one must follow when preparing and even drinking the chimarrão. The most surprising for me was that everybody who wants to drink shares the same cuia and bomba. Never mind if you think it´s not hygienic. It is the tradition. Even when you enter a hairdresser and they offer you a chimarrão, you are going to share it with all the other strangers in the room. There are many more rules which I find hard to remember. But for the gaúchos (as the residents of Rio Grande do Sul proudly call themselves) it seems natural to know them by heart. I guess it comes with the fact that they drink it absolutely anywhere at anytime.

 

Capirinha is another typically Brazilian thing. It is usually made of cachaça (liquor made of sugarcane), lime and sugar. The combination of a sugarcane liquor with sugar makes it way too sweet for me so I greatly welcomed that Petr brought slivovice from the Czech Republic.

The Christmas day itself was weird. I was sitting in the garden with my short sleeves and I decorated my hair with flowers that fall from a tree. On 24 December it was about 35*C outside which made it very hard to believe that it was a Christmas day. However, in the evening when dinner was ready and everybody got into a festive mood, I started to accept that indeed it was Christmas.

We had a turkey for dinner with potato salad. Normally, lots of families stay at the table until midnight when it is time for gifts under the Christmas tree. That is similar to the Czech tradition apart from opening the gifts already at about 8 pm.

All in all, I had an absolutely amazing Christmas time. That was mainly thanks to the great people who had never met me and yet invited me to stay with them and made me feel as an integral part of their group. The Brazilian hospitality seems infinite and if nothing else, I hope this will be something I can learn from the nation and keep the lesson with me forever.

 

The occupied schools of São Paolo

Nearly two hundred schools have been occupied in the state of São Paolo since the end of October. The students have barricaded themselves into the schools as a form of protest against a planned reorganization presented by the governor of São Paolo Geraldo Alckmin.

 

Occupied #The school is ours!

 

The idea of the reorganization is to separate secondary schools from high schools (the students of both currently attend the same institution) and to cut the expenses connected with running the schools. In practice, this means that some schools would be merged  and 92 schools would be closed; 311 thousand students would be relocated. Furthermore, there is a fear that the number of students per class would rise. “It is normal that there are 40 students in a class now. That’s already too many. But if the schools are merged, the number could go up to maybe 60 students for one class,” explained Beatriz (23), a university student who is supporting the protests by helping students to organize educational activities in two of the occupied schools in Assis.

Many students in Assis expressed the fears of increased numbers of students in a class. They are also concerned with the relocation which would mean that they would have to travel to more distant places and they would be separated from their friends or siblings. “Now I study in one school with my sister. But if the reorganization is carried, we won’t be attending the same school anymore. I don’t like that. I’m happy that we can be here together,” explained Tania (14) her reasons for taking part in the protests.

 

On the other hand, the reorganization has its supporters as well. “I think that it is a good idea to separate the secondary and high school students. They’ve got different needs and this can be better reflected if they aren’t together. However, I think the governor should have discussed this with the unions. It’s the way that it was announced rather than the reorganization itself that is bordering me,” said Helena (33) a university professor.

 

Mariana (24), a university student, expressed her disagreement with the occupation as such. “I think the police should intervene. The protests are organised by a left-wing political party and it’s just a political game.”

The political party PCO (Partido da Causa Operaia) has been one of the unifying elements in the protests, next to the students unions (UNI) and Brasilian organisation of secondary school students (UBES). All three try to promote communication between the occupied schools and provide material help. One of the schools in Assis refused the presence of the political party and they continue with the occupation, only with the help of individual volunteers from the public.

The volunteers are let in only during the day. They are mainly university students who come there to deliver various classes, carry workshops and engage the students in discussions on different topics. At night, the doors are locked and nobody is let in. Some of the university students camp outside the school to ensure that those inside are safe.

 

Discussion club: ´Why do I protest?´

Capoeira workshop

 

 

English class: the Scottish and Czech educational systems vs. the Brazilian one

 

Making posters and leaflets for the public

 

 

 

´Guards´ outside of the school.

 

The students also need to cook for themselves, clean after themselves and generally make sure that everything in the school runs smoothly.

Thus, together with the informal classes, there is a great variety of activities that everybody can participate in. Unfortunately, despite the range, only few students take part in them. “There aren’t many of us here, because our classmates are scared. The headmistress threatened us that if we protest, she will make us repeat one school-year. I think some took her word, so they don’t come here. But I’m not scared. I know that we are right so it is important to continue. We discussed this with a lawyer who supports us and he explained that she has no legal means of doing this,” explained Leonardo (16), one of the students who occupies one of the schools in Assis.

Last Friday, the governor announced that the reorganization would not take place. Despite that, about 120 schools continue with the occupation. They are afraid that he will take the word back. Furthermore, the students now require a promise that none of the protesters will be punished for taking part and on the contrary, they demand that the police intervention, which happened in some schools and at the demonstrations in the city of São Paolo with the use of tear gas, is going to be investigated and punished.

While the politicians discuss what to do next, many students are left without the opportunity to go to normal school and have classes. However, those who decide to attend the informal discussions, workshops and to take active part in the protests, have unique chance to learn about  the important role of a civil society and the strengths of informal education. Let´s hope that they will also have the chance to experience how it feels when the politicians listen to their voices and they enter into a constructive dialogue together.

 

***

All names were changed.

Hitchhiking to the climate march

It is not a political act, it is an act of love!

I’ve had quite a tough two weeks. I felt physically exhausted and one of the few things I managed to do in my free time was reading the news. This is a killing combination. You feel down because you’re not well and you spend the day reading about the brutality of this world. Not a good idea.

 

Fortunately, Facebook came to the scene. With its brilliant logarithmic power, it managed to offer me a personalised advertisement: Greenpeace Brasil. From the moment I clicked on the website, things started to move very fast. I found out that Brazil was going to join the world climate march on Sunday. The protests were organised in many different cities around the globe to show that people care about the outcome of the climate change conference held in Paris (http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-34953626). And Sao Paolo was going to show its support as well!

This was a moment to stop crying over what is happening in the world and be part of the world again. On Thursday, I contacted couchsurfers in Sao Paolo (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CouchSurfing) and found a Brazilian who was willing to host me over the weekend. I searched for information on what else to do during my stay and when and where my bus was leaving from on Friday. All excited that I’m being active again, I went to bed. And I slept and slept and slept. Then I slept a bit more. At 11, three hours after my bus to Sao Paolo had left, I thought that it was the right time to wake up.

The bus was gone and the next one was leaving in four hours. Challenge accepted. Instead of going to the bus station, I went to the high way and stuck my thumb up. After seven minutes of waiting, a car stopped and offered me a lift. Never mind that the driver was not going the direction I needed. I got into the car and went. Only later after reading the map more carefully I realised that I was extending my trip of about 50 km.

However, the extension probably also shortened the trip. The other car that picked me up went directly to Sao Paolo. The driver spoke perfect English and we managed to talk to each other for 5 hours of our trip. He seemed very happy to tell me about his country and I was very happy to learn from him. We even went for dinner together. When he was leaving, he told me that he commutes regularly to Sao Paolo and that I can go with him any time. It might be that he won’t go by car but in a private jet with his son who is a pilot, but I’m welcome to join in both cases.

I spent a great Saturday and Friday night in Sao Paolo. Thanks to couchsurfing I managed to meet lots of local people who took me to the theatre and other different social events.

 

 

 

 

 

On Sunday, the main part of my programme came. The march was planned to start at 14 with art performance before that. The square was crowded since morning, but unfortunately the crowd were mainly people who came shopping. However, the closer to the march time, the more eco-friendly people appeared in the scene.

Street art performance: we need fresh air

At about two, people formed a huge group (I would guess of about 300 people) and they started to get ready for the march. What I saw then, I haven’t seen before. An incredibly heavy rain as if one was under a waterfall. Nevertheless, we were there. Ready to show that we care about our future. There were musicians in the crowd who played with the rhythm of the rain. People were dancing, laughing and marching.

´I AM MARIANA´ stands for a recent disaster in Mariana (south-estern Brazil) where two dams burst and flooded the city and poisoned the river.

Showing sympathy for the victims in Mariana.

We walked down Paulista, the main avenue, and headed to Ibirapuera park which is about 3 km far away. There were all sorts of different organisations, individuals, a few politicians and representatives of companies supporting green energy. All were there with the same aim – to stop the climate change. What surprised me, however, was that a few groups did not want to take part in the protests next to the “green companies” and instead they organised their own small march 3 hours earlier. What I did not know is that even the question of sustainability splits the supporters on the line of  left and right.

The first smaller march.

Anyway, we all met later on in Ibirapuera park where an outdoor concert took place. The rain stopped. The band played songs with environmental themes (I think) and rock rhythm (very interesting combination).  People drank beer and enjoyed the beautiful atmosphere of being surrounded by similarly minded people.

 

Myself, I ended up in an incredibly good company. In the city of Sao Paolo which has 10 million inhabitants, I started to talk to two guys and as it turned out, one of them was from the Czech Republic. The other was his Brazilian friend who invited us later on to his place for dinner, hot shower and shelter after I missed my bus again.

I read the news and got depressed. Then I shut the computer. I learned about the country from the locals and I was part of their everyday life. I supported an idea that I strongly believe in and I felt to be part of the world. The beautiful world full of kindness and good people. I think there is still hope for the human kind.

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