Hi everyone! I know it is short notice, but big things have been happening at 9 Ira! Jeff and I decided to start an urban farm and this Saturday, March 26th will be our groundbreaking party! Our friend Jeremy Anstine will be bringing a team of horses to plow! The gathering will begin at about 11:00 am. We will have a potluck as well, so feel free to bring a dish. Otherwise, just come along to share this special event!
9 Ira Avenue is in South Akron, in the Summit Lake neighborhood. If you need directions, feel free to call me or Jeff! We hope you can join us :)
Friday, March 25, 2011
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Life in the fast lane, never a dull moment
Yep, it's been a while since I've posted. Please excuse my neglect. You may have been wondering which ends of the world I have been wandering to, so far away from internet... yet the strange reality is that I haven't been far at all, except for a brief one month trip to Colombia in April.
As they say, sometimes traveling for so long makes you go and see home for the first time. In my case that is true. For so many years, I have always been about to leave for somewhere. Even when I was just getting off a plane in Ohio, I was always thinking of where I would be off to next. However, in January, shortly after my last post, there was an unusual string of events that changed my perspective, at least temporarily.
I began to date Jeff, who has been a friend of mine and my brothers for many years. He is just like me and I am just like him. It makes perfect sense. (Not to mention the fact that he speaks the same language as the rest of my family!) Then I met P.R. Miller, an unusual and eccentric hoarder... I mean, artist... from Akron. He makes sculptures of recycled stuff. He and Jeff knew each other through a long and complicated story involving anti-aircraft missiles. We went to his kaleidoscope house in the dead of winter (he has no heat but a small wood-burning oven) while he told stories of being a wizard. And while he does have a beard, he does not mean wizard in the usual sense, but as a "mover of energies." He then proceeded to give us keys to his studio.
And so we moved into this alleged studio, otherwise known as the illustrious 9 Ira. And not the Ira Rd. in the Cuyahoga Valley, but the Ira Ave. in the middle of the slums of South Akron. We are only three blocks from the projects, yet within those three blocks there are also five churches, one mosque and a Buddhist temple. Needless to say, the neighborhood has a little character. And the studio... well... it's about as authentic South America as you can get in North America, and that might still be generous.
The building is across the train tracks from the Firestone plant and was originally a boarding house for the workers (on the second floor). They would pay to sleep there for eight hours between shifts. Later it was converted to a cathouse. The first floor was home to a restaurant, a tailor shop, and a market... perhaps some other retail spaces as well. The basement included a pool hall and showering areas. Nowadays, the second floor is strange apartments filled with even stranger tenants, something similar to the most bottom-rung cheap hotel in Peru. The first floor is occupied by several artists: a comic book artist, a sculptor, an illustrator of children books as well as a taxi driver and a meat market. We have the middle apartment, which is also the largest. We also have the entire basement which is now stockpiled with P.R.'s random stuff. And when I say random, I mean REALLY random. Like hundreds of practice CPR mouths, ceramic kilns, old neon lights, oil lamps, gobs of silverware, old magazines, boxes of lace, hundreds of door knobs and feet of clawfoot tubs... etc., etc.
And with what pretense did we decide to live in this bizarre place? Well, to me, it feels like home. There are tall ceilings and plenty of room to make a mess. It's just weird enough to keep me constantly busy. And even though the neighborhood is one of the worst in Akron, it doesn't really matter. Life is too short to deny living somewhere because you think it might be bad. People get robbed and assaulted in even the best neighborhoods. The only way for a place to improve is to go there and be positive. I've lived in ghettos in Brazil before, where even a ten-year-old kid is walking around with a pistol, and I'd like to think that somehow it boosts the morale of a place just for it to have one more smile, or one person who is there willing to share something with their neighbor.
So, we started a garden, and then we started another garden. They are beautiful gardens, full of all different kinds of vegetables. I read everything I could get my hands on about planting and cultivating food. It was my first garden of my own and I'm very proud of it. As of today, it has fed more than twenty people, and we eat from it every day. Sharing is the key to making it a great garden. We even had guests from Australia. Jeff built a climbing wall. It is a small training wall, but many have come to climb as well.
There are bigger goals though for 9 Ira. Most of our front room is open space (other than some of P.R.'s sculptures that are very slowly moving out). We want to create a space for artists to come together, a type of artist co-op, for people to share what they know and learn from what others have to share. And of course, to do all this in a place that can get a little messy. And even more importantly, maybe some of this artist hubbub can be shared with the community, where it is needed most. So, we take things one day at a time. There is a lot of work to be done, but with patience we will make it happen.
Other than that, I have been playing cello for musicals, rock climbing, mountain biking, hiking... you know, the usual :)
Pictures and more will be coming soon!
And of course, if you'd like to be involved in this mighty project, whether it be coming to eat a salad or coming to make art... you know where to find me!
As they say, sometimes traveling for so long makes you go and see home for the first time. In my case that is true. For so many years, I have always been about to leave for somewhere. Even when I was just getting off a plane in Ohio, I was always thinking of where I would be off to next. However, in January, shortly after my last post, there was an unusual string of events that changed my perspective, at least temporarily.
I began to date Jeff, who has been a friend of mine and my brothers for many years. He is just like me and I am just like him. It makes perfect sense. (Not to mention the fact that he speaks the same language as the rest of my family!) Then I met P.R. Miller, an unusual and eccentric hoarder... I mean, artist... from Akron. He makes sculptures of recycled stuff. He and Jeff knew each other through a long and complicated story involving anti-aircraft missiles. We went to his kaleidoscope house in the dead of winter (he has no heat but a small wood-burning oven) while he told stories of being a wizard. And while he does have a beard, he does not mean wizard in the usual sense, but as a "mover of energies." He then proceeded to give us keys to his studio.
And so we moved into this alleged studio, otherwise known as the illustrious 9 Ira. And not the Ira Rd. in the Cuyahoga Valley, but the Ira Ave. in the middle of the slums of South Akron. We are only three blocks from the projects, yet within those three blocks there are also five churches, one mosque and a Buddhist temple. Needless to say, the neighborhood has a little character. And the studio... well... it's about as authentic South America as you can get in North America, and that might still be generous.
The building is across the train tracks from the Firestone plant and was originally a boarding house for the workers (on the second floor). They would pay to sleep there for eight hours between shifts. Later it was converted to a cathouse. The first floor was home to a restaurant, a tailor shop, and a market... perhaps some other retail spaces as well. The basement included a pool hall and showering areas. Nowadays, the second floor is strange apartments filled with even stranger tenants, something similar to the most bottom-rung cheap hotel in Peru. The first floor is occupied by several artists: a comic book artist, a sculptor, an illustrator of children books as well as a taxi driver and a meat market. We have the middle apartment, which is also the largest. We also have the entire basement which is now stockpiled with P.R.'s random stuff. And when I say random, I mean REALLY random. Like hundreds of practice CPR mouths, ceramic kilns, old neon lights, oil lamps, gobs of silverware, old magazines, boxes of lace, hundreds of door knobs and feet of clawfoot tubs... etc., etc.
And with what pretense did we decide to live in this bizarre place? Well, to me, it feels like home. There are tall ceilings and plenty of room to make a mess. It's just weird enough to keep me constantly busy. And even though the neighborhood is one of the worst in Akron, it doesn't really matter. Life is too short to deny living somewhere because you think it might be bad. People get robbed and assaulted in even the best neighborhoods. The only way for a place to improve is to go there and be positive. I've lived in ghettos in Brazil before, where even a ten-year-old kid is walking around with a pistol, and I'd like to think that somehow it boosts the morale of a place just for it to have one more smile, or one person who is there willing to share something with their neighbor.
So, we started a garden, and then we started another garden. They are beautiful gardens, full of all different kinds of vegetables. I read everything I could get my hands on about planting and cultivating food. It was my first garden of my own and I'm very proud of it. As of today, it has fed more than twenty people, and we eat from it every day. Sharing is the key to making it a great garden. We even had guests from Australia. Jeff built a climbing wall. It is a small training wall, but many have come to climb as well.
There are bigger goals though for 9 Ira. Most of our front room is open space (other than some of P.R.'s sculptures that are very slowly moving out). We want to create a space for artists to come together, a type of artist co-op, for people to share what they know and learn from what others have to share. And of course, to do all this in a place that can get a little messy. And even more importantly, maybe some of this artist hubbub can be shared with the community, where it is needed most. So, we take things one day at a time. There is a lot of work to be done, but with patience we will make it happen.
Other than that, I have been playing cello for musicals, rock climbing, mountain biking, hiking... you know, the usual :)
Pictures and more will be coming soon!
And of course, if you'd like to be involved in this mighty project, whether it be coming to eat a salad or coming to make art... you know where to find me!
Monday, January 4, 2010
Happy New Year!
I can't believe it's already 2010! To begin with, 2009 was a great year for me. I graduated college, together with my mother, which was a pretty unique experience. This year, I was able to spend more than the usual three months on the road, since I didn't have to come back to school. The trip took me to the Amazon, which was something I wanted to do for a long time. And, I have officially taken up rock climbing, which is both challenging and really fun! (Don't worry, I'm still playing the cello!)2010 is an extra special year for me because it marks the ten year anniversary of my traveling. Adding up all of my trips, I have spent five of the ten years away from home! I have been to 13 countries, in countless places both big and small, and have met incredible and inspiring people from all over the globe, many of them right in my backyard.
In my last post, I expressed some of my doubts regarding what to do next. I've decided on a couple of things. Like I mentioned, I have taken up rock climbing. Fortunately, I am blessed to have a lot of really strong and talented climbers as family and friends, so I have been training with some of the best teachers around. In May I am planning to take a trip to Peru with a good friend and my main training partner, Jeff Boni. We are going to spend three months rock climbing and bouldering (climbing without rope), attempting the summit of Ticlla (the tallest mountain in the Cordillera Central at 19,642 feet!), trekking and surfing. So... until we leave, we are doing a lot of training in just about everything (climbing, hiking, yoga, swimming, running, etc)!
I have also decided to write a book. I've been talking about it for a long time and now I am going to put my words into action. Anyone who knows me knows that I rattle off stories all the time, so I'm hoping that I can just put those stories into writing. It's difficult for me to focus on writing in front of the computer, so if you'd like to send a word or two of encouragement, or discouragement for that matter, it would be greatly appreciated! I'm hoping to put up a couple drafts up here too and any feedback is welcome. Of all the things I have considered myself to be, I never considered myself to be a writer, but I do love to tell stories.
With all that said, here is a little photo recap of the month and a half that I've been home.
I went out to Arizona for my brother Ryan and Shira's wedding and was surprised to meet up with several friends from Ohio who are traveling around the States now. The wedding was absolutely beautiful and I loved Arizona! Here are Shira, Ryan, Ryan's friend Patrick (?), Jessica and Mike, sitting on a BIG rock outside of Phoenix.
Ryan and I on our early Thanksgiving Day hike on the Peralta Trail in AZ. We started before the sun came up! What a beautiful way to start Thanksgiving!
Sunrise over the Superstition Mountains:
Another scene from the Peralta Trail:
Back in Akron, meeting up with my long-time best friend, Johnny Sloan and his cousins:
Taking Auggie hiking on an unusually warm day in December:
A scene along Mingo Trail:
This was my most favorite New Year's Eve celebration of all time. I drove to Chestnut Ridge, West Virginia with a lot of good friends and my brother Aaron. We all stayed the night in an old one-room schoolhouse that now houses a small bouldering wall. There was a big party at a lodge in the park, filled with many musicians. I learned how to play Old Timey music by rote and jammed out with about twenty musicians. We ate lots of good food and drank a little wine to bring in the New Year.
By Sunday, the only people left were Jeff and I. The weather was really cold and snowy up on the ridge, but we stayed busy every day with rock climbing, hiking, cross country skiing, snowboarding, sledding and most importantly... hot cocoa! Here's Jeff... well, being himself:
The night of January 1st there were only a few people left in the campground, but Jeff, Megan, Nate and I were invited to the Stone Cabin for a small jam session (guitar, banjo, mandolin, bass and two cellos) and some wine. It was great to celebrate the new year with new friends, old friends and a wood-burning stove! Here's Nate taking a little break from guitar playing:
Me enjoying a little wine:
...and a Happy New Year to all!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
All good thing must... continue
It's been a long, crazy trip and I'm glad to be back home. However, to me it seems to be really cold and I can't understand why everyone keeps looking at me like I'm crazy and telling me that it's warm. Warm, to me, does not involve sweaters. Oh well. I suppose it's all about perspective.
The last couple weeks in Brazil were phenomenal, difficult, easy, fun... just about everything rolled up together. Carneiros was the perfect break for us. The whole time that we were there, we got the royal treatment and were amongst one of the coolest families that I have ever met. They were always smiling and whenever they got the chance, they grabbed any kind of bucket, bench, drum, etc. and started playing percussion, singing and dancing. It was beautiful.
From Carneiros, we hitched a ride on a boat back to Rio Formoso. We visited some family of family for a night and then continued south. We tried to hitchhike again, which resulted in us advancing about an hour and a half on the road during an entire day. We spent the night on a beach in some random town and then took a car the next day to Maceio.
Maceio ended up being an amazing place for us. To begin with, we had been camping for almost 3 weeks straight and were thrilled to finally stay at a hotel, in beds. The city itself isn't your usual dirty city, and it has some really pretty beaches that aren't totally swarming with tourists. Finally, we might as well have been the most famous musicians in Brazil, because we got the royal treatment everywhere we went. The very first night, walking along the beach with our instruments, a guy called out to us from a really nice restaurant, invited us to dinner, bought some drinks, took us to hear live music... all because he used to be a backpacker too. Now he works in Public Health, does research about AIDS and was at a conference. Super nice guy. After that, every time we played in restaurants or bars, either the owner or a client would invite us to eat or drink. As it turns out, we ended up eating in the nicest restaurants of all of Maceio, which would have been impossible otherwise. We met some really interesting people too- a German guy who is organizing a bunch of community bands throughout the state, a guy who illustrates children's books and a guy who travels the world setting up ethanol systems for cars (or something of that effect). The people were nice, the views were pretty, the food was great, and we weren't in a tent... what more can you ask for?
View of a neighborhood in Maceio on our way to work:
From Maceio, we took a bus to Salvador. I had been to Salvador in 2003, but it was nothing the same. I'll just leave it at that. However, I did have the nice surprise of going out to see a flamenco concert at a cultural center and running into one of my best traveling friends, Kike. Kike is Peruvian and I met him in Ecuador in 2001. He's actually one of the first 3 people that I met when I started to travel on my own, and we're still great friends. I ran into him again in Peru in 2006, when we put together a band. Then I ran into him here in Salvador, Brazil. It really is a much smaller world than we think. He's a great percussionist and a phenomenal juggler and is now traveling with a Brazilian guy, doing some street performing and trying to figure out how to get to Africa on a boat in order to take some percussion lessons. I'm not joking either. Good times in Salvador despite some things being really different.
From Salvador, we headed an hour to the south to a small town called Arembepe. There's actually the modern town, and about 2 miles down the road, the "Hippie Village." The village is about 20 or so palm thatch huts, stretched across the top of a long string of sand dunes. On one side of the sand dunes is the ocean, with some really beautiful reefs, and on the other side is a meandering river, so you get the best of both worlds- salty and fresh water. There isn't any electricity and almost all the people who live there are artists. (Janis Joplin used to go there and hang out too). It was a nice escape from the hustle and bustle, and a great place to celebrate Arturo's birthday, other than an unexpected encounter with a candomblero, but that's a novel in itself, and not for the weak of heart!
View of Arembepe beach, reefs, sanddunes and a thatch hut in the background:
Arturo jamming out on his 28th birthday:
A view from the top of the sanddunes:
Arembepe at sunset:
After a good couple days in Arempepe, we packed up to escape the heat and head inland.
We took a bus to a small town called Lençois, which is in a national park called Chapada Diamantina. The park is full of interesting rock formations (including "pink bubblegum rock," I coined that scientific term), swimming holes, waterfalls and natural waterslides. It was a phenomenal place and in the town we met some really cool artists from all over the world.
A strange hole in the rock with a tree growing out of the stone and a girl growing out of the tree. Ha ha.
Arturo ponders the meaning of life. Lençois in the background.
Me in a swimming hole below the Waterfall of Spring (Cachoiera da Primavera):
All in all, this trip was phenomenal. They always are, in their own way, but I'm really glad that I finally traveled down the Amazon (without getting dengue again!!!). I had some amazing opportunities that I never would have imagined and met some really great people. Now, I'm ready to take a little time to soak it all in, reflect a little and figure out what the next step is. I've been traveling for nine years now (it's crazy to think it's been that long!) and I don't think I can just aimlessly wander about anymore. Until the next adventure... Until the next and greater mission...
Thanks for following along. Thanks for your support and prayers. It's not all as easy as it looks, but there's always something to be learned, always something to be shared, even at times just a smile.
The last couple weeks in Brazil were phenomenal, difficult, easy, fun... just about everything rolled up together. Carneiros was the perfect break for us. The whole time that we were there, we got the royal treatment and were amongst one of the coolest families that I have ever met. They were always smiling and whenever they got the chance, they grabbed any kind of bucket, bench, drum, etc. and started playing percussion, singing and dancing. It was beautiful.
From Carneiros, we hitched a ride on a boat back to Rio Formoso. We visited some family of family for a night and then continued south. We tried to hitchhike again, which resulted in us advancing about an hour and a half on the road during an entire day. We spent the night on a beach in some random town and then took a car the next day to Maceio.
Maceio ended up being an amazing place for us. To begin with, we had been camping for almost 3 weeks straight and were thrilled to finally stay at a hotel, in beds. The city itself isn't your usual dirty city, and it has some really pretty beaches that aren't totally swarming with tourists. Finally, we might as well have been the most famous musicians in Brazil, because we got the royal treatment everywhere we went. The very first night, walking along the beach with our instruments, a guy called out to us from a really nice restaurant, invited us to dinner, bought some drinks, took us to hear live music... all because he used to be a backpacker too. Now he works in Public Health, does research about AIDS and was at a conference. Super nice guy. After that, every time we played in restaurants or bars, either the owner or a client would invite us to eat or drink. As it turns out, we ended up eating in the nicest restaurants of all of Maceio, which would have been impossible otherwise. We met some really interesting people too- a German guy who is organizing a bunch of community bands throughout the state, a guy who illustrates children's books and a guy who travels the world setting up ethanol systems for cars (or something of that effect). The people were nice, the views were pretty, the food was great, and we weren't in a tent... what more can you ask for?
View of a neighborhood in Maceio on our way to work:
From Maceio, we took a bus to Salvador. I had been to Salvador in 2003, but it was nothing the same. I'll just leave it at that. However, I did have the nice surprise of going out to see a flamenco concert at a cultural center and running into one of my best traveling friends, Kike. Kike is Peruvian and I met him in Ecuador in 2001. He's actually one of the first 3 people that I met when I started to travel on my own, and we're still great friends. I ran into him again in Peru in 2006, when we put together a band. Then I ran into him here in Salvador, Brazil. It really is a much smaller world than we think. He's a great percussionist and a phenomenal juggler and is now traveling with a Brazilian guy, doing some street performing and trying to figure out how to get to Africa on a boat in order to take some percussion lessons. I'm not joking either. Good times in Salvador despite some things being really different.
From Salvador, we headed an hour to the south to a small town called Arembepe. There's actually the modern town, and about 2 miles down the road, the "Hippie Village." The village is about 20 or so palm thatch huts, stretched across the top of a long string of sand dunes. On one side of the sand dunes is the ocean, with some really beautiful reefs, and on the other side is a meandering river, so you get the best of both worlds- salty and fresh water. There isn't any electricity and almost all the people who live there are artists. (Janis Joplin used to go there and hang out too). It was a nice escape from the hustle and bustle, and a great place to celebrate Arturo's birthday, other than an unexpected encounter with a candomblero, but that's a novel in itself, and not for the weak of heart!
View of Arembepe beach, reefs, sanddunes and a thatch hut in the background:
Arturo jamming out on his 28th birthday:
A view from the top of the sanddunes:
Arembepe at sunset:
After a good couple days in Arempepe, we packed up to escape the heat and head inland.
We took a bus to a small town called Lençois, which is in a national park called Chapada Diamantina. The park is full of interesting rock formations (including "pink bubblegum rock," I coined that scientific term), swimming holes, waterfalls and natural waterslides. It was a phenomenal place and in the town we met some really cool artists from all over the world.
A strange hole in the rock with a tree growing out of the stone and a girl growing out of the tree. Ha ha.
Arturo ponders the meaning of life. Lençois in the background.
Me in a swimming hole below the Waterfall of Spring (Cachoiera da Primavera):
All in all, this trip was phenomenal. They always are, in their own way, but I'm really glad that I finally traveled down the Amazon (without getting dengue again!!!). I had some amazing opportunities that I never would have imagined and met some really great people. Now, I'm ready to take a little time to soak it all in, reflect a little and figure out what the next step is. I've been traveling for nine years now (it's crazy to think it's been that long!) and I don't think I can just aimlessly wander about anymore. Until the next adventure... Until the next and greater mission...Thanks for following along. Thanks for your support and prayers. It's not all as easy as it looks, but there's always something to be learned, always something to be shared, even at times just a smile.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Wading down the coast
Arturo and I in the end of Maracaipe beach:
a path in Maracaipe:
Carneiros beach and church, 17th century church:
Teresina was hot. Too hot. I was glad to leave, but I miss the hotel breakfast. It was pretty awesome.
From Teresina, we took a bus to Recife. We went to visit a family that I know and stayed with before and unfortuately, they moved. Then we took a bus to Porto de Galinhas, which used to be a small fishing town protected by coral reefs. I passed through a couple of times in 2002, and then 2004. First, my cheap hotel, which was really hidden behind a restaurant, was torn down and the whole town was converted into some weird resort-esque gringo colony. Pretty depressing actually. We ended up hoofing it 3 km south to a small town called Maracaipe, which has still maintained it´s small town essence. We stayed for a week, camping on the beach, until Children´s Day went by and we left to continue south.
We ended up in some other small towns, invited to stay with a family, camping out in front of their house. The family is very poor, but they offered us everything. The mother cooked for us every day, invited us to the granddaughter´s 2nd birthday party and took us around on their boat to the neighboring town. Their boat, like most of the boats, is a large canoe with a peque peque motor... that means that they get a beefed up edge clipper (yes, the one that cuts grass) and they use it as the boat motor. It´s real long and looks really funny, but works great.
house amongst the mangroves in Rio Formoso:
view along Rio Formoso:
more to come later... I ran out of time!
a path in Maracaipe:Carneiros beach and church, 17th century church:Teresina was hot. Too hot. I was glad to leave, but I miss the hotel breakfast. It was pretty awesome.
From Teresina, we took a bus to Recife. We went to visit a family that I know and stayed with before and unfortuately, they moved. Then we took a bus to Porto de Galinhas, which used to be a small fishing town protected by coral reefs. I passed through a couple of times in 2002, and then 2004. First, my cheap hotel, which was really hidden behind a restaurant, was torn down and the whole town was converted into some weird resort-esque gringo colony. Pretty depressing actually. We ended up hoofing it 3 km south to a small town called Maracaipe, which has still maintained it´s small town essence. We stayed for a week, camping on the beach, until Children´s Day went by and we left to continue south.
We ended up in some other small towns, invited to stay with a family, camping out in front of their house. The family is very poor, but they offered us everything. The mother cooked for us every day, invited us to the granddaughter´s 2nd birthday party and took us around on their boat to the neighboring town. Their boat, like most of the boats, is a large canoe with a peque peque motor... that means that they get a beefed up edge clipper (yes, the one that cuts grass) and they use it as the boat motor. It´s real long and looks really funny, but works great.
house amongst the mangroves in Rio Formoso:
view along Rio Formoso:more to come later... I ran out of time!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Back to terra firme!
The journey down the river was beyond phenomenal, way more than I could have ever imagined. From Iquitos, I travelled on a boat that wasn´t nearly as nice as the first boat, but amongst a lot of friends that I made in Iquitos. There was a Korean guy, a Chilean guy (traveling with a regular, stand-up PIANO... I can never complain about my cello again!), a French girl, a couple of Canadians, Ariel (from Paraguay), a half Pervian/half Italian, a Colombian and myself. We were quite the international rowd, to say the least. We shared a lot of laughs and the three days to the border went quickly. It was a little shocking to see the little respect that the crew had for the river. Without thinking twice, they would dump the trash cans into the river and they served all the meals on plastic plates, which they also dumped into the river. (On the other boats, everyone carried a tupperware which they received their meals in and washed afterwards).
This was the sunset the last night:
Backing up... some tiles in Iquitos; I LOVED the tiles.
The boulevard in Iquitos, along the river:
Building with cool tiles in Iquitos:
The triple border was cool, and weird. We all shared a room in the Brasilian town of Tabatinga, for the first night, and crossed the border to the Colombian town of Leticia to work. The Colombian town was a lot nicer than the Peruvian or Brasilian sides. Every day crossing the border was a reality check for my Portuguese, switching back and forth from Spanish to Portuguese was tricky, but fun at the same time. Sometimes it just came out all jumbled. 
Me, in the main port of Manaus, next to the water level records. This year had the highest record from the past hundred years or so... can we say ``climate change?´´
Arturo and I roadside, heading to Presidente Figueiredo:
Playing music outside of Santa Rosa immigration office, waiting to get our exit stamps from Peru, but the officer was no where to be found... It didn´t take long to attract a crowd. That´s the Chilian pianist; he played some guitar too:
The owner´s dog of the house we rented in Ilha Mosquiero. I only took the picture because it looks like my mom´s dog :)
Some cool architecture in Belem:
Belem fishing port:
A boat graveyard in Belem:
A scene in the delta:
This was the sunset the last night:
Backing up... some tiles in Iquitos; I LOVED the tiles.The boulevard in Iquitos, along the river:
Building with cool tiles in Iquitos:
The triple border was cool, and weird. We all shared a room in the Brasilian town of Tabatinga, for the first night, and crossed the border to the Colombian town of Leticia to work. The Colombian town was a lot nicer than the Peruvian or Brasilian sides. Every day crossing the border was a reality check for my Portuguese, switching back and forth from Spanish to Portuguese was tricky, but fun at the same time. Sometimes it just came out all jumbled.
On the boat from Iquitos was a Colombian guy named Arturo. He is an anthropologist and ``musikero´´ (that´s his term for someone who learned music empirically rather than studying). He plays just about any instrument that falls into his hands, and can rattle of the characteristics of almost every Latin and South American folk or popular music. He´s quite the character. We decided to travel on into Brasil together, and play music together along the way.
Since entering Brasil, I had to start traveling hammock-class in the boats, rather than traveling in a cabin, but since I have company it´s really easy. Someone always stays with the stuff, and at night, I just hung my hammock low enough that my butt just barely touched my backpack and I could tell if anyone tried to move it. My cello had it´s own hammock that I strung above mine, which worked out great. I never had to worry about anyone stepping on it, and I could see it anytime I woke up during the night.
The first boat, from Tabatinga to Manaus, seemed like a cruise ship compared to the previous boat. The food was self-service buffets, the bathrooms were super clean, and there was cold purified water available any time, day or night. One night, they even had bingo and I won a teeshirt, haha. We spent the Brasilian Independence Day on ship, and the captain gave us a discount on our tickets in exchange for us playing a short concert on the top deck. Pretty sweet deal, and everyone loved it. We even had an American percussionist sit in with us. The only downside to hammock class is that I couldn´t pull out my camera like I did on the other boats, because then everyone would know that I HAD a camera and it would be a lot easier to steal. So, unfortunately, there are no boat pictures from Brasil, but I assure that the sights were incredible. The river got wider pretty fast. It wasn´t as pretty as the Peruvian legs, just because we were farther from the shore.
We didn´t stay in Manaus very long. We ended up hitchiking north, on the road to Venezuela, to a town called Presidente Figueiredo, which was full of waterfalls and incredible swimming holes. We spent five days camping out, and lounging in the water, swimming holes where the water carved holes in colorful stones and Amazon jungle all around... pretty incredible.
From Manaus, we took another boat to Belem. Five days, not such a nice boat, they charged for each meal and we were in the cheapest hammock class, the level where they are constantly loading and unloading stuff. There were always nice people next to us. It was a lot bigger than the boats in Peru, had hundreds of people all in hammocks and moved a lot faster.
Belem was pretty uneventful, so we decided to go to a close-by island in the delta, called Mosqueiro. We rented a small cabin on a beach called Chapeu Virado, complete with a yard full of fruit trees, all in season. It was great, eating fresh mangos, avocados, acerolas, etc... all day every day. The water was brown, and still freshwater, but there were tides that were pretty significant, and you couldn´t see land when you looked at the water... might as well have been the ocean, only if the water was salty!
From Belem, we hitchhiked south, the first three days we went from town to town, getting two rides a day, and ending up in really po-dunk towns in the jungle. The sun was brutal, I got a really dark tan, even though I was wearing 60 SPF sunblock! The fourth day, we were lucky to get a ride from a truck driver, who took us all the way to Teresina, a two day trip. We slept one night in a truck stop, hanging our hammocks up underneath the truck, pure Brasilian style.
Now we have been in Teresina for two days, trying to recoup forces and make some money to take a bus from here to the coast... to Recife to be exact. We found a good neighborhood yesterday that has a lot of small restaurants and young people, and they have loved the music that we are playing (mostly salsa, and some Colombian music). Hopefully in the next couple days we will be back on the beach!
Here´s a couple pics from the last couple weeks...
A port in Manaus:
Me, in the main port of Manaus, next to the water level records. This year had the highest record from the past hundred years or so... can we say ``climate change?´´
Arturo and I roadside, heading to Presidente Figueiredo:
Playing music outside of Santa Rosa immigration office, waiting to get our exit stamps from Peru, but the officer was no where to be found... It didn´t take long to attract a crowd. That´s the Chilian pianist; he played some guitar too:
The owner´s dog of the house we rented in Ilha Mosquiero. I only took the picture because it looks like my mom´s dog :)
Some cool architecture in Belem:
Belem fishing port:A boat graveyard in Belem:
A scene in the delta: Sunday, August 30, 2009
Life is grand
Right now I am in a city that should not exist. It makes no sense that so many people live in a place that is so disconnected. There is no road out of here, only boats or planes. It is an island in the middle of land, an anomaly of sorts. The town burst with the rubber boom of the early 20th century, and since then, has only grown. The houses that were built in the rubber boom only attest to the fact that money was in the form of liquid that came from the trees... they can´t compare to houses anywhere else- elaborate stone work and facades covered in beautiful tiles that were probably brought over from Europe. Of course, after the rubber boom ended, all was left to decay and now many of the houses are abandoned or run-down. The rest of the city was built with the resources that were around- wooden houses with palm thatch rooves. There are almost no cars here, only motokars, or motorcycle tricycles that serve as taxis. There are a lot of unusual fruits and TONS of fish.
I arrived here on Thursday morning, after spending five days on a boat called Tuky. The boat had three floors. The first was filled with cargo- anything from blocks of ice to pigs to bananas to furniture and building supplies. The second floor had a large room filled with about 70 people, with hammocks strung about everywhere (you just sleep and hang out in a hammock the whole trip), plus a kitchen that cooked for everyone and a large table and television that usually blasted loud music videos. The third floor had the helm, several cabins and another large room that was half full of cargo. I got a cabin, just since I had no where to put my cello and I was by myself. It cost $50 for five days, with three meals a day... a hammock spot costs $25. The trip was incredible. We stopped in small villages along the way to unload ice, which the fishermen use to store the fish they catch until another boat comes by to buy it (most of the villages had no electricity). The boat also unloaded things, and sometimes picked up bananas or animals to take to the city. Every day, I saw tons of pink river dolphins (bufeos) and lots of really cool birds. The people on the boat were really nice too. I wish that everyone could take this trip at some point, there really are no words to describe it. Here are a few pictures in a feeble attempt to do it some justice.
Logging. Makes me never want to use any tree products ever again. Huge sections of the rainforest, CLEARCUT and nobody bothers to reforest:
A phenomenal sunset EVERY night:
Did I ever mention that I love my life?
Typical houses in the Amazon:
This was somebody´s big oops... might have to do with the depth finders on the boat. They can´t use regular depth finders because there are too many fallen trees and branches in the water, so they have a rope hanging off the side of the boat with knots on it and a weight on the end that they drop into the water. They also have a dingy that goes ahead of the boat with a large stick that they measure the depth with. High tech. As you can tell, accidents happen. This boat will sit here for three months until the rainy season begins again and the river rises. (The difference in water level between rainy season and dry season is about 16 FEET!)
People come in their dug out canoes to the small villages to stock up on supplies and sell their fish and fruit.
And watermelons... in one village the boat was bombarded with people selling watermelons, including this kid who got tired:
Village along the way:
Dropping off blocks of ice for the town to store their fish. This was incredibly surreal.
Another boat in port... check out the hammocks on the third floor. (I think the picture gets bigger if you click on it!)
Kids in a port town:
My favorite crew guys:
They let me drive the boat!
Some times the weather changed from this...
to this, in ten minutes. Impressive walls of rain:
And then back to this at the end of the day:
Arriving to Iquitos. It was a zoo.
Some street art in Iquitos. ¨Time is not gold. Time is art. We are in the street.¨
Bob, an Australian friend that I made on the boat, who is traveling around South America on a bike, decided that it would be a good idea to try to hijack a motorkar. In the back is an Argentinian friend, Luis, who I knew from Cusco and ran into here on the street. On his right is Juan, who is from Korea and lives in his hotel here. We had a great night out on the town and then a trip to the zoo/lake/beach the next day.
Typical floating houses in Iquitos:
Tomorrow I will be getting on a boat that transports fish, which will take me three days to the triple border- Peru, Colombia, Brazil!
I arrived here on Thursday morning, after spending five days on a boat called Tuky. The boat had three floors. The first was filled with cargo- anything from blocks of ice to pigs to bananas to furniture and building supplies. The second floor had a large room filled with about 70 people, with hammocks strung about everywhere (you just sleep and hang out in a hammock the whole trip), plus a kitchen that cooked for everyone and a large table and television that usually blasted loud music videos. The third floor had the helm, several cabins and another large room that was half full of cargo. I got a cabin, just since I had no where to put my cello and I was by myself. It cost $50 for five days, with three meals a day... a hammock spot costs $25. The trip was incredible. We stopped in small villages along the way to unload ice, which the fishermen use to store the fish they catch until another boat comes by to buy it (most of the villages had no electricity). The boat also unloaded things, and sometimes picked up bananas or animals to take to the city. Every day, I saw tons of pink river dolphins (bufeos) and lots of really cool birds. The people on the boat were really nice too. I wish that everyone could take this trip at some point, there really are no words to describe it. Here are a few pictures in a feeble attempt to do it some justice.
Logging. Makes me never want to use any tree products ever again. Huge sections of the rainforest, CLEARCUT and nobody bothers to reforest:
A phenomenal sunset EVERY night:
Did I ever mention that I love my life?
Typical houses in the Amazon:
This was somebody´s big oops... might have to do with the depth finders on the boat. They can´t use regular depth finders because there are too many fallen trees and branches in the water, so they have a rope hanging off the side of the boat with knots on it and a weight on the end that they drop into the water. They also have a dingy that goes ahead of the boat with a large stick that they measure the depth with. High tech. As you can tell, accidents happen. This boat will sit here for three months until the rainy season begins again and the river rises. (The difference in water level between rainy season and dry season is about 16 FEET!)
People come in their dug out canoes to the small villages to stock up on supplies and sell their fish and fruit.
And watermelons... in one village the boat was bombarded with people selling watermelons, including this kid who got tired:
Village along the way:
Dropping off blocks of ice for the town to store their fish. This was incredibly surreal.
Another boat in port... check out the hammocks on the third floor. (I think the picture gets bigger if you click on it!)
Kids in a port town:
My favorite crew guys:
They let me drive the boat!
Some times the weather changed from this...
to this, in ten minutes. Impressive walls of rain:
And then back to this at the end of the day:
Arriving to Iquitos. It was a zoo.
Some street art in Iquitos. ¨Time is not gold. Time is art. We are in the street.¨
Bob, an Australian friend that I made on the boat, who is traveling around South America on a bike, decided that it would be a good idea to try to hijack a motorkar. In the back is an Argentinian friend, Luis, who I knew from Cusco and ran into here on the street. On his right is Juan, who is from Korea and lives in his hotel here. We had a great night out on the town and then a trip to the zoo/lake/beach the next day.
Typical floating houses in Iquitos:
Tomorrow I will be getting on a boat that transports fish, which will take me three days to the triple border- Peru, Colombia, Brazil!
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