Get ready... it´s a long one! Salvador, Brazil

Albergue Brasil Hostal Rua Recife and Rua Florinapolis in Barra, Salvador
30 reais a night, great staff and good breakfast

A friend we met while traveling told us he liked Salvador during Carnaval, but afterwards he had a hard time finding music... where ever we were in Salvador, he mustn't have been. We spent 8 unforgettable, music-filled, food-filled days in this huge coastal city. One of my personal favorite cities that we've visited so far. Unforgettable for so many reasons. It was our first real Brazilian experience with so many differences from other places we visited.

We literally got off our airport shuttle bus in the middle of a huge concert crowd. With our huge backpacks and bags we battled our way out of the crowd and hunted for our hostal. It was an abrupt welcome to Salvador but was softened when we asked around for our Hostal's street and some guy went out of his way to bring us to it's doorstep. Expecting nothing in return, he patted us on our backs, wished us luck and was on his way.

When we arrived we immediately met Edison, a Brazilian from Porto Alegre (a city farther south.) We humorously battled with the language barrier trying to communicate with our first Brazilian friend throughout our entire stay in Salvador. Later that night, we returned to the concert, back pack free and hungry.

In our quest to fill our stomachs we passed a million shish kebab stands and finally Lori spotted a different food stand. Little did we know we had stumbled across acaraje, Salvador´s famous local food. We ordered two of whatever concoction the lady had in each pot and watched as she slapped mushy something, a different mushy something, shrimp and a spicy sauce on a big fried dough thing. We both stood there, utensil-less with a $1 shrimpy mess as big as our heads and thought "How the hell do you eat this?" Some how, we ate it up and after, decided it wasn´t our favorite new food. (To give it a fair chance we tried it again after a few days, at a different place only to arrive at the same conclusion.) We also ate $1 shrimp shish kekabs. These are not peel and eat shrimp my friends. Only the shrimp head is removed and you eat the whole crunchy shrimp. Lori decided it was too leggy looking and we chuckled as Edison talked to us with a little shrimp leg stuck, hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He laughed too when we told him.

To top off our first few hours in Salvador, we entered the crowd and did a little dancing... but more people watching in this new land. We noticed that there we no rules. People danced wildly, flailing their arms, moving their feet at lightening speed, hips in every which direction. It was amazing. No dance move was off limits. Not even our gringa ones. Here is where we noticed our skin color that seemed so different from everyone around us... we seemed to be the only ones to notice though. Very few people even batted an eye.

Salvador is the heart of Afro-Brazil. Many years ago, Salvador was one of the main ports where slave ships from Africa made their stops. They say some 1.5 million slaves (double the number sent to all of the U.S. That´s alot!) were shipped to Brazil´s state of Bahia (where Salvador is located.) Because of this history (and there´s alot more, as you can imagine), African everything is unavoidably present everywhere. People, music, dancing, clothes, food, you name it and there´s some story. They say Salvador has the most well preserved African culture in South America. (For more information on the history of Salvador, Bahia go to http://www.bahia-online.net/history-bahia.htm)

There was an amazing thing present in this city that we haven´t felt in other places, including the states. Without a doubt, we were the minority here, but our skin color occurred to us two times in the 8 days we were there. It was amazing how much no one cared about our skin color. We went dancing (with our rough attempts at Samba) and no one looked at us with the "Let´s watch the gringas dance" critical face that we´ve gotten so many times. The vibe here was so tranquilo and indifferent to our skin color. We were surprised at how much we differed, but no one seemed to care. It made us realize how much The States needs to progress.

We found Brazilian music and dancing everywhere we went. Saturday we visited the neighborhood Pelourinho, 15 minutes away from Barra where we were staying, and effortlessly found a capoeira presentation in the street.

What is capoeira? It´s a type of fight dancing done to music. The music is an energetic harmony of loud drums, tambourines and the birimbao which is a unique instrument. From afar it looks kinda like a fishing pole, as you can see from the picture.You play this instrument by holding it in your hands and hitting the metal wire with a little stick. You make a vibrating type sound by putting a stone against the wire after hitting it. You can also make a different sound by pressing the hollow fruit against your body while playing.

Ok, let´s review... in capoeira we have drums, tambourines, the birimbao, clapping, singing that alternates between a leader and the group, and dancing. Wow!

The history of capoeira is that the slaves were prohibited from fighting, so they created a style of "dance." It seemed as if they were dancing, but really they were practicing self defense. The idea in capoeira is to move with your partner but never touch him. When a pair is moving with the same energy, seemingly connected it´s amazing how close they can come with spinning kicks, flips, etc, skimming their partners face practically... but never making contact. We joined the circle of observers, watching partners switch off, clapping for a few hours ("These two girls are clapping more than you guys, let´s get going!" proclaimed the animator of the group... we think :) and watching the show. It was great!

Here we met Sebastian, an Argentian whose brother is studying at Brown University in Providence (WTF!?!?) He is crazier than us (our parents will be thankful.) He´s been traveling two years through practically all of South and Central America... hitchhiking. He plays his guitar, sells his cds and makes his survival that way. Having practically seen it all, he spent a few days in Salvador with us, but was headed to Mexico. He had fallen in love with Mexico and decided that´s where he wanted to stay for a while.

The next day, Edison and Sebas went with us to the local beach. We relaxed, ate more shrimp shish kebabs (the most delicious in the world with lemon juice, garlic sauce and a spicy sauce all prepared with care by passing vendors) and tried some hot cheese. Apparently cheese roasted on an open fire is all the rage. Vendors walk around with hot coals in a can (I did not approve of this when I also saw vendors walking through a crowded street full of dancing people, coals a blazing!!) and a tupperware container full of blocks of cheese. When you ask for one they start up the coals and put your sticks of cheese, dipped in oregano, on the fire. Hot cheese coming up!

On the beach, Sebastian tried to sell some cds to pay for his hostal and food and life. He said he had some trouble, people didn´t seem to want to buy his cds. We later found out why people were closed to helping him out.

We went to Pelourinho a few times at night and the quantity of people selling anything and begging in the streets was mindblowing. Children asking you to buy them food, mothers begging for your loose change, old tired women selling plastic necklaces, men giving you a "free" gift to buy some beads, people askance for some of the food your eating, people sleeping on every bench in the plaza and in every dark corner they can find. It was unlike anything we had ever seen in our travels. Everyone asking for money, wanting something, selling something. You felt heartbroken and helpless. Which one are good people, which ones are not? Is this 10 year old boy going to trade in the powdered milk and crackers for drugs, like they say? This pregnant woman selling peanuts for a few cents... what will she do in a few months? How will she survive? How do all these people survive? Poor people and stray starving cats crowded the streets of the party neighborhood at night. Beggars side by side with partying tourists put a real perspective, a dark shadow over the party scene.

This is why people ignored Sebastian. It seemed everyone wanted something, including him. This was the second time in 2 years this situation had come up.

Pelourinho (Pelo) was the party place. Any and every night you could find music. Restaurants with a two man band jamming away (Sebastian stole the microphone for a moment) capoeria school practicing their loud percussion and cd stores blasting a little of everything.

Our friend Fernanda, a spectacular, perfect english speaking, we-were-friends-in-a-minute Brazilian, arrived just in time to go with us to Music Tuesday in Pelo. Every week Pelo organizes music groups to perform all over the city. We danced our hearts out with Edison and Fernanda to every possible type of Brazilian music. Our favorite being the drum circles slowly traveling around the city. You can join the crowd of dancers doing their African/aerobics type dancing or hang back and do your own thing. It is so high energy and contagious that you can´t help but move your feet... and hands... and shoulders... and everything!

There was music not only on Tuesdays in Pelo, it seemed every night hosted various live music events. We, Fernanda, Edison, Lori and I, danced our pants off a few nights to Forro (pronounced Fo-ho) which is more of a rock/polka type music. It originates from the north of Brasil. They say there was a bar up north called "For All" and it started this music. The people said the name in english, eventually smushing the two words together and creating the nowadays Forro :)

We also saw a Samba show, which we now know isn´t only high energy, women-dancing-half-naked-in-the-streets-with-feathery-costumes music. It also can be more chill. We really enjoyed the samba band we saw, as well as the impressive mom who shook her money maker like I´ve never seen before. Unfortunately, all our staring caught the attention of her sons, who were not so impressive. So what´s your mom´s name anyways? :)

Being that Salvador is a beach city you´re never more than a 10 minute walk from the water. We frequently took advantage of this after our nights on the town and jumped in the well lit ocean at 4am. We walked back in the rain feeling like superheros coming back to an abandoned planet after battle. Walking home, in the middle of an empty city street with nothing but our bathing suits. What a sight!

During the day we had to relax (and sleep) from our nightly fiesta. We visited Arembepe, a beach an hour and a half from Barra, where we were staying. They say there´s a hippy colony in Arembepe created by Mic Jagger and Janis Joplin. Strange. More than just hippies, Arembepe was a beautiful, deserted beach. Edison, Fernanda, Lori and I were the only people in the water and the people on the beach could be counted on your fingers. There were more palm trees I think. We relaxed, enjoyed the pristine ocean water (Surprisingly, Lori more than anyone else. I´ve never seen her swim like such a fish!) and headed back, pooped.

In Salvador, we did some other touristy things, shopping at the market where there was an array of brightly colored, unique, African inspired souvenirs. We visited one of the churches in Pelo which had every square inch exquisitely decorated in golden angels and leaves. We also visited the Afro-Brazilian museum, which explained where in Africa, more or less, the slaves came from and had an amazing display of the African saints, which are a big part of people´s faith in Salvador. The interpretation of the saints were carved beautifully in wood and awe-inspiring.

Almost done!

Last but not least, we must mention the people of Salvador, who were more than friendly. From the moment we got off the bus and the man made sure we made it to our hostal ok, to a few other people who went out of their way to show us the city and make sure we were having fun. Salvador´s people are amazing accommodating. The man in the market took 30 minutes explaining to Lori how to play all his strange, new instruments. The man in the music store was in no rush, playing every entire song on the 20 cds we were trying out. The taxi drivers patiently wait 5... 10 minutes for you to say bye to your friends and hop back in. Another guy we met took us to meet his mom and give us a personal tour of his neighborhood. He also told us all about his carnaval stories and his preparations for next years carnaval. (They say carnaval in Salvador is better than Rio´s!)

Our last night, for a grand finale, what we thought couldn´t be a more memorable city, was finished with a cherry on top. A local guy who worked at our hostal, invited us out with some of his friends. Fernanda, Lori and I climbed into his friend´s small car and off we went. First to a jazz show that finished just moments before we arrived. Then, to a forro show that played two songs before packing up. Deciding our fate would be to go to places and events that were ending, we tried again but this time the party was in full swing. You might say 20 parties all at once were in full swing. We arrived to a big parking lot with a huge painted sign saying "Noise pollution is prohibited! Law 319" I tried to tell Lori and Fernanda about it, but it was impossible to hear me due to... the noise pollution. Cars with huge speaker systems crowded the parking lot, blasting whatever crackly music they could find. While people hung out dancing and partying behind the cars. We decide that they must be deaf. At least we felt like we were. Every step was like changing the station on a roaring radio. It was dizzying. As we passed car after car, we arrived at the end. We were stunned. How could... what... why... can´t someone... the buzz in our ears and brains was too loud after passing the 30 or so vibrating speakers.

Just as we thought it couldn´t get better, the cops arrived and slowly as they passed each car and the sea of people parted, speakers turned off. Finally, the cops stopped, jumped out, grabbed a guy by his shirt, yelled and wrestled with him for a few minutes, put him in the back of their car and... music back on! No one missed a beat. It was something you´d have to witness in person to truly understand.

Our last stop of the night with our friends was to a plaza where surrounding restaurants had their tables set up in the streets and a local capoeira group was singing and playing everything and anything that could be made into an instrument. Fernanda helped us practice our terrible samba steps and here we decided we should just stay out and not sleep before our 7am, 26 hour bus ride to Rio.

Yawning and puffy eyed, we hung out with Fernanda until the wee morning hours. It´s amazing how you can have a connection with someone from half way around the world. We sadly left our good friend Fernanda and fell asleep on the bus so fast we didn´t even notice it pulling out of the terminal.

Hasta luego! We´re off to Rio de Janeiro!