Rio de Janeiro

Sugarloaf From Corcovado

Rio From Sugarloaf

Copacabana Beach

 

January 23, 2009-A Little Sugar

Oi tudo bem! (oy too da bane) That's Portuguese for "Hello, how are you." The answer is "tudo bem!" meaning "and how are you?" We particularly like the "oi" part.

For those of you who like flan, you could fall in love with South America. This is the land of flan. It's plentiful and good except for the instant stuff we got at our home hosted meal. We are also celebrating the return of Kleenex in our hotel room as well as washcloths. As those of you who travel abroad know they're not standard even in good hotels.

They use granite here like it was Formica. Not only are the counters in all bathrooms (public or hotel) granite but the end tables at the airport were too. Even our entire bathtub in this hotel is granite. When we were remodeling and went on line to look at stone most of it came from Brazil.

I saw Sugarloaf Mt. three times today. Twice I was wrong. Lots of the mountains resemble its distinctive shape but there's only one genuine Sugarloaf.  The mountains here are formed from volcanic eruptions and are 500 million years old. They’re referred to as "settled" and no earthquakes occur here.

We didn't go to Sugarloaf directly this morning. First we went to Corcovado Mt. to beat the 800 tourists ascending from a cruise ship in port. It's the mountain you see all the time that has the huge statue of Christ the Redeemer with outstretched arms. The statue was built in 1931 and is covered in soapstone which lends it a grayish tone. We rode a two car electric train up the mountain that is actually higher than Sugarloaf. On our descent we saw flames coming from the overhead wire. Not to worry. It was the electric wire serving the nearby Favella (slum). I've never seen wiring actually in flames before. The train ran through a rainforest (the one in the city) and we enjoyed spotting Jack Fruit trees and impatience galore. One sign identified a Thick Tree Garden.

Sometimes it pays to have low expectations. As we climbed we looked down upon the Atlantic, bays, and an in-town lagoon. At the end of the train ride was a ramp and elevator that took us to the pinnacle. We could see Ipanema, Copacabana, and many other beaches (all are public). Favellas alternated with buildings for the elite in a hodge-podge quilt up the hillsides. Unlike at home, suburbia isn’t where the chosen few live. The Botanical Gardens were right below us sitting like an emerald but we will skip it when we have free time. A flower is a flower, etc. We're planning to go to the hippie market in Ipanema instead. We had a 360 degree view and it was incomparable. We also arrived as the clouds and mist parted and the sun came out. It was too early for real heat and there was a breeze off the ocean. Someone in our group has good weather karma. Until now I chose Cape Town as the most beautiful city I'd seen. At several times its size, Rio is a contender.

The third time was the charm. Sugarloaf was in my sites and it was more spectacular than the posters show. Or was it? What was that bulge on top? On no! It was the cable car station. Yes, folks, there's a zit on Sugarloaf. I'm sure it can be photo-shopped out. I snapped and clicked the camera dozens of times until we descended.

Summiting Sugarloaf was more a psychological than actual challenge. We took two cable cars to the top. When they stopped they kept swaying and we had to leap a small gap from swaying car to platform. I'm proud to report that we all made it in style and the last leap taken by Laura Lee was free form. She didn't hold onto the doorpost at all. I have to confess that while we were sardined into the car I took the opportunity to play with the bare toes of a baby being carried in her mother's arms. The mother was clueless and the baby seemed to be enjoying it. I took so many pictures from Sugarloaf that if I put them all together from the two levels I'd be able to open a cyclorama theater.

 

City Side

We took a drive through the city and Martha gave us some background. Ninety percent of the residents of Brazil are Catholic but when they need a miracle many turn to old African religions. We passed an area of Jewish (there are 150,000 in Brazil) and Arab shops in the Sahara Market, a neighborhood specializing in items needed for Carnivale. There are 5,000 samba schools each with it's own costumes and parades. They're like the krewes for Mardi Gras in New Orleans. We could see one of the oldest Favellas in the distance and Martha explained two possible origins. In 1888 freed slaves settled the first ones using any building material they could scrounge. The other theory is that during the war with Paraguay, Brazil sent slaves to fight. After the war the slaves settled the Favallas. We’re finally seeing black faces but they’re not by any means all poor. There’s a strong and mixed middle class here.

On the way to Metropolitan Cathedral Laura Lee asked if I would join her in the back of the bus. I was concerned that she wasn't well and went with her. She'd been twisting her upper body trying to relieve stiffness and her bra came unhooked.  It was only a wardrobe malfunction. She said I could tell you all. There's a definite underwear theme going on. David confessed that even though he was wearing clean undies today he'd put them on backwards.

The Metropolitan Cathedral is truly ugly from outside. Built of concrete in the 70's it’s called the pyramid and holds almost 20,000 people. The inspiration was the Mexican Indians but their pyramids are more impressive. The inside is cavernous, cold, and stark except for four bands of stained glass running from top to bottom on four sides. An unexpected site was the old Portuguese aqueducts. No, Romans weren't here but these unused water carriers closely resemble them. Now a yellow and red trolley rides atop. And what was that smell in the air? It was ethanol. Most cars and buses run on it and the exhaust smells like fermented foliage.

Copacabana Beach was where we ate a lunch fit for carnivores. I attacked the salad bar while others were served beef, sausage, chicken, lamb, and pork sliced from huge rotisserie skewers brought to the table. I was content with hardboiled quail eggs and lovely bread and cheese. Beans and rice are a staple here but the beans are prepared with pork. My loss. Food on this trip has been plentiful if not always to my liking but I haven't felt a need for a larder until today. Fernando told us lunch would be late so I stocked up on cheese and bread from breakfast but there was no need for it. After lunch we walked along the beach and lovely avenues with their wide sidewalks made in distinctive patterns of black and light stone.

There really is a girl from Ipanema about whom the song is written. She was sixteen at the time and is now about sixty and, we were told, still lovely.  Ipanema is only five blocks from Copacabana. We couldn't leave the land of minerals and gems without visiting a jewelry "factory." Their choice was Amsterdam Sauer. Two people bought so it was worth the stop for the store. Next door was H. Stern's home office. H. Stern is international and in almost every airport I've seen. I didn't know that it was started here by a penniless Jew fleeing the Holocaust. His sons and grandsons still run it. We had time to wander the streets of Ipanema and cruise the shops. I bought a banana.

There doesn't seem to be an anti-littering campaign in effect and we watched a little girl drop her popsicle wrapper and stick on the street near a trash container while she and he mother strolled on. But they do try to create a sense of beauty. There's a custom of tying orchids to trees at about six feet off the ground. When they take hold they create a lovely floral display.

Wine Share

Two people had wine left from their winery tour in Chile. They didn't want to tote it home so we all gathered to help them out tonight. Fernando brought the corkscrew. We were surprised he stayed for almost two hours chatting and sharing stories of travel. I asked about the health of the people he's guiding and he said the most extreme case was when he was in the southernmost town in Argentina ready to leave for Antarctica and a woman developed a massive infection in her thumb. The doctor said she needed minor surgery to drain it. Because no medical personal spoke English and she spoke no Spanish he had to go into surgery. He said it was the oddest thing but he talked to her about boxing to distract her. He also didn't want to look.

Fernando told us of an expression here that we consider outdated and offensive in the U.S. In his family he takes after the Spanish side and is dark. As a child playing outdoors he was almost black. His cousins take after the northern Italian side and are blond. They still call him "Negra" (nay grah) when speaking to or about him. It's a common and endearing greeting here.

When the conversation turned to corruption and Haliburton we knew it would soon end. The three Texans jumped on David for disparaging the poor "company that tried to help out in Iraq and has only lost money for their trouble." We ended the evening at the hotel snack bar eating a light meal of bottomless bowls of six varieties of soup. Colleen from California keeps calling it the soup kitchen.

Tomorrow we're going to Petropolis which is out of the city. It's the former summer palace of some emperor of Portugal.

Toby