Boca da Valeria

12 March 2017 - posted on 13 March from Alter do Chao, Amazon River, Brazil

It’s a rainy Sunday, and the town we’re visiting is closed until the afternoon.  So I’m catching up on blogging.  We’ve had a full few days of visiting places along the Amazon, so much to report.

On Thursday, we visited the small village of Boca da Valeria.  This really is a tiny place, with something like 120 inhabitants.  This tiny town was first visited by the cruise ships by accident – a ship broke down and needed some work, so rather than sit in the middle of the river, the passengers were sent to shore in tenders.  The inhabitants of the village had no idea what was happening, just that boatloads of strangers were descending on their community.  So they did what anyone would do when invaded – they hid in the jungle and watched as these people came ashore.  It took several visits until the townspeople were comfortable with these periodic foreign invasions.  And now, they welcome us as a source of income.

The people of Boca da Valeria are mostly of indigenous origin, maybe with some Portuguese ancestors fairly far back.  They live in stilt houses, because the river level rises during rainy season.  In mid-March, we’re in the middle of rainy season – the rains will continue until about June, when the river level may be as much as 30-36 feet (10-12 meters) higher than it currently is.  And the current level is pretty high, with islands and banks and trees totally submerged in the muddy waters of the Amazon.

At this point, we have mixed feelings about Boca da Valeria.  It’s cute.  It’s quaint.  It’s also kitschy, and hard to say how much of what is presented as the traditional indigenous way of life is real, and how much is what the people think tourists want to see.  Or how much has been suggested by publicists or marketers.  Depends on how cynical one’s point of view might be.  It definitely has a somewhat real, but somewhat Disneyland aspect to the town.

When a cruise ship stops by, it seems to be a school holiday in town.  The children and some adults gather by the dock, and greet passengers as we come off the tenders.  Some children want to shake hands, but others have learned to latch on and escort people around town, which of course means a cash tip at the end of the visit. 

Other kids come up with their pets – sloths, snakes, baby alligators or caiman or crocodiles, I can’t tell which.  Maybe even a monkey, or a parrot.  People can hold the pets, pose for photos, all of that.  I always feel bad for the poor animals, who should be free and in the jungle.  But I also understand that for some families, this is their source of income.  So I found some cute kids, took their photo, chatted with them in my Spanish and their Portuguese, and gave them two-real bills.  (Real, pronounced ree-AHL, is the Brazilian currency.  I didn’t give them real bills, I gave them real.  Two real is equal to maybe 60 cents US.)

There were other little kids, mostly little girls, dressed in the traditional clothing, or some semblance of the outfits.  Lots of colorful feathers on their heads or in their hair, and on their ankles.  The littlest one wasn’t too happy about this job, because she really wanted the balloon another child had (and gave her after my photos).  What can I say, I’m a sucker for kids, and so I took photos and handed over small money, and hoped it somehow helps the family finances. 

Of course, I also asked the children what was their name, and what was the name of their pet.  The little girl holding the baby caiman or alligator cracked up laughing when I then said hello to her pet and addressed him by name.  What can I say, I enjoy being silly with kids. 

There was a man at one end of town who really went to a lot of effort with his presentation – I asked him if he was the chief, or a medicine man, but he didn’t understand my Spanish, and I know only three words in Portuguese.  So I don’t know if he’s dressed as a warrior, or what.  It was a really elaborate headdress and all, so I thought he needed some compensation and that I needed a photo of him. 

We wandered around the village, and then took a river tour.  Actually, I ended up taking two river tours with friends we’ve made on the ship, the first being a 30 minute trip and the second being an hour.  The boats are pretty small, sort of glorified canoes with a canopy, and several boards for seats through the center of the boat.  The outboard motor has an extended metal bar with the propeller at the end, so it can be lifted out of the mud and plants in shallow water.  (We saw these in SE Asia, so we knew the point of this odd looking system.) 

And yes, climbing into the boats often meant getting our feet wet in the Amazon, but, well, we can only hope shoes and socks protect us from any parasites.  I’m not usually paranoid, but when a river looks this brown and muddy, it tends to make me somewhat paranoid.  (At one point our first boat captain was standing to see over the top of the boat, and steering with his foot!  So funny, and of course I had to take his photo!) 

Anyway, motoring up and down the river and a tributary and through the swamped jungle was really the best part, and why I went on two boat trips.  We saw the giant water lilies which are famous – these really are huge!  Each lily pad looks like a giant platter, some up to six feet (nearly 2 m) across!  They have sort of a raised lip, a vertical edge all the way around, and this is covered in thorns, as is the underside of the giant lily pad.  One plant, rooted on the bottom of the river, sends out a number of thorny branches that each have one of these huge leaves.  The underside of everything has the spikey thorns so that fish and other water animals don’t eat the plant.  And there’s usually a water lily flower in the center of the plant, which only opens at night.  The flower also changes color throughout its lifespan, based on its pollination cycle.  I’m not sure of the sequence of colors, but the flower can be white, pink, lavender, or green, depending on its age (which isn’t long). 

The lily pads live long after the flower dies, though eventually insects and the sunlight cause these giant leaves to disintegrate and fall back into the river. 

A specific bird seemed to hang out on top of the water lilies, sitting on the pads.  No idea what the name of it is, but it has a dark head, russet body, and the wings in flight are sort of a pale butter yellow.  Really fascinating bird! 

There was another bird, fairly big in size (maybe crow-sized), with a bright neon yellow torso but black wings, head, and tail.  They build nests that hang, almost like long straw socks.  And they’re all in one specific tree, as if this is their town and they only build their nests in that neighborhood.  My photos show a few of the birds, but you need to click on the photos to enlarge them enough to see the flashes of yellow in among all the foliage.  I can’t crop the photos and get a decent image of these birds.  (And again, I don’t know what kind of bird this is – in the Caribbean the bananaquits build nests like this, but they’re tiny birds so I don’t think they’re related.)  And yes, this tree is surrounded by water at this time of year.  I just hope all the baby birds are off flying by the time the river level rises to its maximum, since I suspect the tree might be covered. 

We also saw monkeys in a few trees.  Not sure what kind of monkeys they were, just pretty big and very dark in color.  Monkeys are difficult to photograph, since they’re either snuggled up or in motion.  Here are two photos of the monkeys in the tree, and they’re the very dark blobs.  The greyish blob lower in the tree is a termite nest, so the monkeys might have been up there having a termite picnic.

  

I have no idea how one navigates around, because the Amazon isn’t just the one river.  We went up and down tributaries, side branches, other rivers, and through what I can only think is the jungle turned into swamp or wetlands during rainy season.  Really, it was like boating through a forest, along hiking trails that were underwater.  Truly a strange experience to be in a small boat but surrounded by the jungle, with birds and monkeys chattering at us to get out of their home.  I can see how visitors like myself get totally lost and never find their way out. 

So we spent several hours either boating around, or visiting the village.  It was interesting, it was fun, and it was also slightly disturbing.  It really hit home when we were waiting to get back on the tender.  Our boat staff have chilled washcloths for us, which is a nice refreshing way to wipe one’s sweaty face.  But there I was surrounded by curious kids, who live a very simple life.  One young girl asked me for something, and I told her I have nothing left, no money.  (Some people brought pencils and things for the children.)  The girl indicated that she’d like my used washcloth.  Well, what could I do, I gave her the washcloth.  I mean, she probably could use it, and I know our cruise line makes donations to this village.  So I helped them out, right?

As I said at the outset, I have very mixed feelings about this town.  No idea how much is left of their traditions.  No idea how real or contrived this was.  No idea how they feel about us descending on their quiet life.  No clue if their lives have changed from contact with the tourist world, if they see that as a benefit or a problem.  No way to know if their lives are better or worse from that contact.  And no way to really ask those questions and get answers, given our language differences. 

All I can hope is that my monetary contributions (including the boat ride prices) helped support some families.  And that making kids laugh brightened their day.  And that maybe, all of that somehow helped.

 

Cruising the Amazon, and Santarem

8 March 2017 - posted 10 March in Manaus

We entered the Amazon Delta at high tide on Monday, though it took us several hours to actually get through the channel that provides enough depth (or squat, the space between the bottom of the keel and the ocean floor or river bed).  According to the captain, who gives us a daily report, the amount of squat we had in this particular channel was just barely ten feet, or three meters – not much leeway!  But he said that the river bed here is very soft sand or silt, so we could just plow on through.  I guess we didn’t have any problem, since it seemed to be a smooth entrance.

So we’re on the Amazon.  The AMAZON!!!!  Wow!  We passengers race from side to side on the ship to see which bank is closer, has a better view, or what small boats are nearby.  Hoping to catch a glimpse of exotic birds, monkeys, maybe a crocodile in the chocolatey waters.  We hear sounds that might be birds, might be monkeys, might be people in the small river ferries.  We have no idea, we just know that this is thrilling and exciting and we’re finally HERE! 

The forest closes in on both sides of the river, and it really is dark, mysterious, and impenetrable.  This is the Amazonian jungle, full of legends and maybe indigenous tribes and gorgeous flowers.  The jungle is lush and green, full of trees and vines.  There is animal life in there, but we see very little from the ship. 

The river is also changeable, reflecting blue at a distance but truly a murky café con leche color up close.  At early sunset, the water turns a beautiful molten copper color, burnished to a pinky golden sheen.  And then, as the daylight fade, the waters turn a dark oily blue black, hiding all its mysteries in those darkened depths. 

We’re stopping along the way at some of the river towns, so that we get a taste of life on the world’s longest river. 

 Our first stop was the town of Santarem, on Wednesday.  (Tuesday was merely cruising the first portion of the river.)

Santarem was founded in 1661, named after a city in Portugal.  This town, or small city, lies about halfway between Belem at the mouth of the river, and Manaus, the largest city along the Amazon.  So Santarem has become an important city for refueling all the ships that cruise along the river.

Santarem is also close to the Meeting of the Waters, where the clear blue waters of the Tapajos River joins the murky brown Amazon water.  The two rivers have different viscosities, so the waters don’t mix for about 30 miles, and the two colors can easily be seen!  We haven’t seen this yet, but I hope to while we’re at one of these locations.

There’s also a lovely blue cathedral in the center of Santarem; this building was completed in 1761.  (The first church was built on the same site in 1661, but was built of palm fronds.  So this replacement church was much more permanent, lasting another 250 or so years.)

A long waterfront promenade runs along the bank of the river here, with all kinds of boats.  River ferries feature both benches and hammocks for the passengers, and hammocks seem to be a major item in the markets.  They really are beautiful, with crocheted trim and embroidery.  Can’t you just imagine floating down river while relaxing in a gently swinging hammock?

Along the water front I found a park with giant cement animals.  The river has both grey and pink dolphins – and the pink dolphins are actually grey when born, but the color fades and they become pink as they mature.  So the dolphin statue was half and half, which matched the very goofy look on his face.

I think the giant fish is a piranha.  Yes, we’re in piranha country.  No river swimming for us!  There are also crocs, and anacondas, and who knows what parasites in there.  Also bull sharks, who somehow change their body chemistry so that they can migrate from salty oceans to fresh water rivers – weird, huh?  Bull sharks aren’t the friendliest of sharks, and they’ve been known to attack people in the rivers of South Africa.  Plus the Amazon has that tiny fish that swims up into your body if you pee in the river.  Yeah, no swimming!!!

And then there was a sea turtle – I’m not sure if they also swim upriver, but he or she was in the park.

I wandered around Santarem for a bit – and while the temperature isn’t that high, maybe 80 F (26ish C), the humidity is probably about 99%.  So it feels hot and sticky and muggy.  There are also mosquitoes both day and night, and rather than wear protective clothing which feels hotter, I just spray up with insect repellant.  Sticky and muggy and slightly oiled up from the spray.  We can only manage several hours outside, and then we find a cool café for drinks and wifi.

We have several more stops along the Amazon; the ship stays two days in Manaus, then we turn around and head back, with a few ports to visit as we head toward the Atlantic again.

We'll do our best to stay in contact.  The Amazon communities range from isolated villages to big cities with two million inhabitants - so it just depends on where we happen to be!

 

Fortaleza, Brazil

4 March 2017 - posted on 10 March in Manaus

We stopped in Fortaleza for a day, Brazil’s fifth largest city, located on the northern coast of Brazil just past that bulge into the ocean.  Fortaleza means “fortress” in Portuguese, so the city is named for the large fort that once dominated the skyline.  The original fort was built by the Dutch in 1649, but was surrendered to the Portuguese in 1654 and renamed.  The old fort has been remodeled, so it no longer looks like an historic old fort – the exterior looks more like some traditional old colonial building full of windows, painted sort of a peach color.  The fort is also still used as a military site, and was full of young soldiers in green, complete with scary-looking automatic weapons.  We peeked in, but skipped going through the fort with a military guide. 

There’s also a huge old cathedral in the central square, diagonally across from the fort.  The cathedral looks like the usual Gothic style, except it’s made from cement, marking it as fairly modern.  According to the cruise info guide, building the cathedral began in 1939, but it wasn’t completed until 1978 – forty years to build! 

I tried to visit the beach near the port terminal, but a guard stopped me.  And we were told in town that all of the beaches were closed to the public.  We don’t know what was going on – if there was some kind of contamination in the water, or on the sand, or if maybe there had been some problems on the beaches such as certain crimes.  I tried asking the guard at the port, but couldn’t understand his reply in Portuguese.  So we never made it to the beach. 

The port terminal had interesting murals painted on the building, though, just black-on-white images in a very folk-art style.

We also browsed the craft market in town, set up in the former jail building.  Always interesting, but we’re not in the market to buy much of anything.  However, there were a bunch of cats hanging out in the market, and a cute young black kitty was happy to be held, pet, cuddled, and snuggled right up to me.  My kitty therapy!

We found a café in the central park that had wifi, although it was really slow and we weren’t able to do much.  Couldn’t even post a blog, so our cone of silence continues. 

And that was sort of it for Fortaleza.  It seemed like a rather sad city to me, economically depressed and parts were really run down.  Also, this was the first time we saw people begging on the streets – always sad, and it makes me feel so unable to make any kind of social change to help people in need.

We’re now at sea again, heading to the Amazon River delta, where we can enter the river system at high tide.  Our ship is considered small, with room for “only” 1300 passengers – this is why we’re able to cruise along the Amazon, while most cruise ships are much larger and unable to cruise any rivers, even one as huge as the Amazon.

I’ll end with photos of the mural opposite the port terminal in Rio.  This mural is huge, painted on a block-long building.  The title is “Etnicos,” which I’m assuming means something like “Ethnicities” or people representing various ethnic groups around the world.  There are huge faces, small maps, and geometric quilt-like designs in the background.  The artist signed his work with his name “Kobra” which may or may not be his real name.  But the work is riveting, and really needs no further explanation – the mural speaks for itself.