Vixe Maria. That's my new OMG phrase. It makes me seem like a local, unlike my blonde hair and my general lack of Brazilian coolness. Although I did get a 'oh you don´t look like a Brazilian' response recently after a nice spurt of Portuguese from me. I couldn't say I'm a local yet, but the owner of a cheap restaurant recognised me from my last visit, shouting 'meu filho, meu filho', I'll be popping my head in there again. The other recognition was slightly more nefarious: one of the local dudes came up and said hello, we shot the breeze for a couple of sentences, and then he was like ´man where's the drugs?', ready to shrug him off, I replied 'no idea buddy', but then came the quick response 'I have them'. The smile was gone from his face, so I gave him an all purpose 'beleza' and wandered off. Steer clear says I.
I never did explain Pipa kitesurf, the blog name. Pipa means kite in Portuguese, I am currently surfing the internet, and a recent blog I read declared that learning to kitesurf would most likely slove all his problems. There you have it.
The TAMAR group up in the house are a bunch of surfers too, but the cool kind, not tucked away in a cafe like myself. I already mentioned Daphne, working with the blood samples, but Lourival, Rodrigo and Neto are there too. Rodrigo and Neto are from Piaui in the north and replaced Edelaine who was here for the first week. We had a leaving/birthday party for her the other day, and the cold beers and carne do sol went down just as easily as the evening sun. Lourival, James and I have decided, is what every man should aspire to be. He's incredibly laid back, a fantastic surfer, and of course works with sea turtles. When he told James that doesn't like removing barnacles from the turtle's shells, because they are living creatures too, James nearly fainted there and then.
James and I did a kayak trip over in Tibau yesterday, but after celebrating the patron saint of Pipa the night before, I was feeling really ropey. The kayak trip up the mangrove lagoon is great, and enjoyed 90% of it, but at one point, my stomach pains becalme unbearable. Readers of a nervous disposition might want to skip to the next paragraph. I was hanging back from the main group, not sure what to do, but eventually decided I
had to jump into the lagoon behind a mangrove. James guarded the entrance for me, chuckling all the while, and helped me back into my boat after all was said and done. My biggest fear was the kayak guides would paddle over to help me back in and discover my antics. I debated long and hard whether to include this story, but James and I eventually agreed that it was too funny to exclude. He wasn't going to let me forget in a hurry anyway. Feeling much better, we enjoyed the rest of the trip, sneaking stealthily through the mangroves. You felt certain you were about to discover an ancient tribe around the next bend, that somehow all the other previous daily trips had missed.
A hearty meal in tibau was followed by a trip to the house of Valdenir, the general manager of the sanctuary. The whole family are absolutely lovely, and even though he didn't understand what they were saying, James expressed my own feelings towards them succinctly, when he declared afterwards 'well, that whole family has a one-way ticket to heaven'. Valdenir plied us with drink, and Paula, his wife, gave us bags and bags of garden fruits to take home. Lovely stuff altogether.
Just being doing bits and bobs at the recption so far, and a small bit of guiding, but hopefully I'll get my hands stuck into some good old-fashioned physical labour soon.
Cheerio Gringos.
I never did explain Pipa kitesurf, the blog name. Pipa means kite in Portuguese, I am currently surfing the internet, and a recent blog I read declared that learning to kitesurf would most likely slove all his problems. There you have it.
The TAMAR group up in the house are a bunch of surfers too, but the cool kind, not tucked away in a cafe like myself. I already mentioned Daphne, working with the blood samples, but Lourival, Rodrigo and Neto are there too. Rodrigo and Neto are from Piaui in the north and replaced Edelaine who was here for the first week. We had a leaving/birthday party for her the other day, and the cold beers and carne do sol went down just as easily as the evening sun. Lourival, James and I have decided, is what every man should aspire to be. He's incredibly laid back, a fantastic surfer, and of course works with sea turtles. When he told James that doesn't like removing barnacles from the turtle's shells, because they are living creatures too, James nearly fainted there and then.
James and I did a kayak trip over in Tibau yesterday, but after celebrating the patron saint of Pipa the night before, I was feeling really ropey. The kayak trip up the mangrove lagoon is great, and enjoyed 90% of it, but at one point, my stomach pains becalme unbearable. Readers of a nervous disposition might want to skip to the next paragraph. I was hanging back from the main group, not sure what to do, but eventually decided I
had to jump into the lagoon behind a mangrove. James guarded the entrance for me, chuckling all the while, and helped me back into my boat after all was said and done. My biggest fear was the kayak guides would paddle over to help me back in and discover my antics. I debated long and hard whether to include this story, but James and I eventually agreed that it was too funny to exclude. He wasn't going to let me forget in a hurry anyway. Feeling much better, we enjoyed the rest of the trip, sneaking stealthily through the mangroves. You felt certain you were about to discover an ancient tribe around the next bend, that somehow all the other previous daily trips had missed.
A hearty meal in tibau was followed by a trip to the house of Valdenir, the general manager of the sanctuary. The whole family are absolutely lovely, and even though he didn't understand what they were saying, James expressed my own feelings towards them succinctly, when he declared afterwards 'well, that whole family has a one-way ticket to heaven'. Valdenir plied us with drink, and Paula, his wife, gave us bags and bags of garden fruits to take home. Lovely stuff altogether.
Just being doing bits and bobs at the recption so far, and a small bit of guiding, but hopefully I'll get my hands stuck into some good old-fashioned physical labour soon.
Cheerio Gringos.
Ah Alex ya sicko! Get on that kitesurfing buzz and bag yourself a ticket to heaven bey.
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