I've been giving a few English lessons to the group up at the house. Just the basics so far, but they are all easily pleased, and beam something wicked when they manage a 'how are you?' 'I'm fine'. They are all keen to learn to become noted biologists like Armando. I remember the days when Armando tried to describe turtles that were'upping and downing' the beach. One of the first things I asked him when I saw him this visit was to try pronounce the word 'months'. Its a difficult one for him with that 'nths' combination, so I popped my chest out and helped him along, over pronouncing it with a lisp: MOONNNTTHHHSSS. His reply put me right back in my box; 'Yes, but you look gay when you say it like that'. Fair enough so. We also have a girl who has come to one lesson already. She is a Pipa native and has been sent to volunteer at the sanctuary by her father, after falling in with the wrong crowd, namely drugs and an abusive ex-husband. Good bunch, but I'm not the most patient teacher yet. Shouting at beady-eyed Neto: 'No he doesn't do, he does, HE DOES, not HE DO' wasn't good for my soul.
The cat I mentioned is officially of the house. Biscoitto is his name, and is a lovely little feller, apart from his tendency to sleep in the bin, presumably from habit. The first time I saw it I thought it was an unceremonial funeral, until he opened his eyes and miaowed at me. The latest saved turtle is doing well, and splashing about in a bath happily today. Not sure if he'll go back to the sea or a tank in the future though. Lourival told me of a turtle that came up in a village north of Pipa, and was killed and stripped for the meat, which reminds one that saying the economy is booming in the south is all well and good, but this is still Brazil. The stream of animals is constant, and a hawk arrived today with a battered wing. He's kinda cool though.
I haven't been up to much this week, because I am filling in at the sanctuary reception for Jose Marquez, who was on holidays. Going over the same details, prices, walks and views for the visitors has become pretty tedious, but I seem to be picking up some Spanish now too, thanks to the glut of Argentinos here. They have taken over from the European gringos that everyone overcharges. I've finished all my books sitting at the reception, including 'The Zahir' by Paulo Coelho. I think the whole spiritual journey I'm supposed to experience when reading a Paulo Coelho went over my head, but not a bad story from the Carioca. I'm currently reading a book in Portuguese that Lourival gave me called Silent Spring by the ecologist Rachel Carson. Its slow going with a dictionary at my side, but at least I'll look like a cool ecologist like the guys from the house. Bloody greenies. Now that the reception work will be less, I can start concentrating on some of the work Sr. David, the owner of the sanctuary., wants to get done, such as redoing the main entrance, creating culverts for the rainy season, and cleaning up the old artificial waterfall. The workhorse of the sanctuary, Aurelio, is off for a couple of weeks, so its my time to prove how strong and sound I am.
This will be mixed with some light relief of course. I was talking to one of the owners of the bars in Pipa, who is the only Brazilain and only female owner of a bar here. When I mentioned I would be here for St. Paddys day we began to plan a bit of a do on that day at her bar. It is already green so we're half way there. Her husband invited for a lads night on Superbowl Sunday, so that could be fun too. Thanks to some European funding, David has bought a some small hills/mountain range in the interior, so a trip deep into sugar cane country might be fun as well, to see what's what. What what?
Finally I'll come to food. Now that I´ve settled in to life here, I'm cooking like a Brazilian, and couldn't be happier. As James righly said, beans are the business, and in a pressure cooker they come out delicious and easy. Neto is a great cook, so we get a big shopload of stuff from the market in Goianinha on Sunday and let him to it. I'm going to get to the market this weekend, and go mad I think. 3 pineapples for 1 real, you better believe it. The carne do sol is chewy, cheap and delicious, and melts in your mouth when Neto gets his hands on it. Sweet potatoes that look like beetroot on the outside I eat straight after boiling, soft and sweet. The meat is all lovely, and the spices are fantastic. I wake up to granola, fresh fruit salad, yoghurt, juice, and sweet bread, and the day gets steadily better. Then we get to the fruits. Where do I begin? First the home favourites of apple, banana, grapes, pineapples, all grow well, but why bother when you have home-grown talent such as caja, maracuja, acerola (James' favourite), jaca, acai, guarana, goiaba and many more. My own personal favourite is the ciriguela, a bag of which gets destroyed by me in one evening chapter of a book. Our blender is in constant use, and I've even tasted avocado juice, which was steeped in that other Brazilan favourite, sugar. Lovely stuff.
Just a couple of quick stories that I couldn't fit in neatly anywhere else.
Heard a guy singing: 'Thar eees noo pang, yo arrgh receedeen' the other day, and spent the the next 10 mins chatting to him and giving him the proper tune to 'Comfortably Numb'. Lol.
Saw a daytime show where they got loads of girls from different countries to do the Samba dance. No Irish girl, but judging by the way all the other countries were shwn up, even Argentina, thats probably not the worst thing. Hope you're all well. Email me at curran.alex@gmail.com, or don't, whatevs.
The cat I mentioned is officially of the house. Biscoitto is his name, and is a lovely little feller, apart from his tendency to sleep in the bin, presumably from habit. The first time I saw it I thought it was an unceremonial funeral, until he opened his eyes and miaowed at me. The latest saved turtle is doing well, and splashing about in a bath happily today. Not sure if he'll go back to the sea or a tank in the future though. Lourival told me of a turtle that came up in a village north of Pipa, and was killed and stripped for the meat, which reminds one that saying the economy is booming in the south is all well and good, but this is still Brazil. The stream of animals is constant, and a hawk arrived today with a battered wing. He's kinda cool though.
I haven't been up to much this week, because I am filling in at the sanctuary reception for Jose Marquez, who was on holidays. Going over the same details, prices, walks and views for the visitors has become pretty tedious, but I seem to be picking up some Spanish now too, thanks to the glut of Argentinos here. They have taken over from the European gringos that everyone overcharges. I've finished all my books sitting at the reception, including 'The Zahir' by Paulo Coelho. I think the whole spiritual journey I'm supposed to experience when reading a Paulo Coelho went over my head, but not a bad story from the Carioca. I'm currently reading a book in Portuguese that Lourival gave me called Silent Spring by the ecologist Rachel Carson. Its slow going with a dictionary at my side, but at least I'll look like a cool ecologist like the guys from the house. Bloody greenies. Now that the reception work will be less, I can start concentrating on some of the work Sr. David, the owner of the sanctuary., wants to get done, such as redoing the main entrance, creating culverts for the rainy season, and cleaning up the old artificial waterfall. The workhorse of the sanctuary, Aurelio, is off for a couple of weeks, so its my time to prove how strong and sound I am.
This will be mixed with some light relief of course. I was talking to one of the owners of the bars in Pipa, who is the only Brazilain and only female owner of a bar here. When I mentioned I would be here for St. Paddys day we began to plan a bit of a do on that day at her bar. It is already green so we're half way there. Her husband invited for a lads night on Superbowl Sunday, so that could be fun too. Thanks to some European funding, David has bought a some small hills/mountain range in the interior, so a trip deep into sugar cane country might be fun as well, to see what's what. What what?
Finally I'll come to food. Now that I´ve settled in to life here, I'm cooking like a Brazilian, and couldn't be happier. As James righly said, beans are the business, and in a pressure cooker they come out delicious and easy. Neto is a great cook, so we get a big shopload of stuff from the market in Goianinha on Sunday and let him to it. I'm going to get to the market this weekend, and go mad I think. 3 pineapples for 1 real, you better believe it. The carne do sol is chewy, cheap and delicious, and melts in your mouth when Neto gets his hands on it. Sweet potatoes that look like beetroot on the outside I eat straight after boiling, soft and sweet. The meat is all lovely, and the spices are fantastic. I wake up to granola, fresh fruit salad, yoghurt, juice, and sweet bread, and the day gets steadily better. Then we get to the fruits. Where do I begin? First the home favourites of apple, banana, grapes, pineapples, all grow well, but why bother when you have home-grown talent such as caja, maracuja, acerola (James' favourite), jaca, acai, guarana, goiaba and many more. My own personal favourite is the ciriguela, a bag of which gets destroyed by me in one evening chapter of a book. Our blender is in constant use, and I've even tasted avocado juice, which was steeped in that other Brazilan favourite, sugar. Lovely stuff.
Just a couple of quick stories that I couldn't fit in neatly anywhere else.
Heard a guy singing: 'Thar eees noo pang, yo arrgh receedeen' the other day, and spent the the next 10 mins chatting to him and giving him the proper tune to 'Comfortably Numb'. Lol.
Saw a daytime show where they got loads of girls from different countries to do the Samba dance. No Irish girl, but judging by the way all the other countries were shwn up, even Argentina, thats probably not the worst thing. Hope you're all well. Email me at curran.alex@gmail.com, or don't, whatevs.
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