It’s amazing how fast life can change. Last week, I was wearing business casual and attending an academic conference in a big hotel. This week, I’m starting life in rural Brazil, where nothing seems to come easy, but where one really appreciates the good things. It’s been a jarring transition, but I can envision in my mind a point where life here will seem entirely normal.
The trip to Brazil was fairly uneventful. Annie was a trooper on the flight; it helped immensely that the crew sympathized with me and cleared out a 3-seat row for us to stretch out in. I even got some sleep!
I hope never to travel with that much luggage again, and I don’t think I will have to. Much of what I brought is clever stuff to make our very basic house a little more comfortable, like those fabric hanging shelves people put in their closets. When we arrived in Sao Paulo, Dave was there with a smile on his face and camera in hand.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the trip from Maraba, the closest airport, to the settlement. A relatively comfortable air-conditioned bus dropped us and all our stuff by a dusty roadside gas station in the mid-day heat and intense humidity of Eldorado de Carajais, the closest town to the settlement. We immediately found the pickup truck that makes three trips a day to and from the settlement and loaded our luggage in the metal cage that had been constructed over its top to carry big stuff (such as the 200 lbs of crap we had with us). The truck left for just 5 minutes to pick up a big item someone else had bought in town, and returned half an hour later to find us sweaty and dripping. Annie’s curls were, by this time, wet corkscrews. We eagerly got into the truck, only to wait another half hour for some lady’s daughter to come. Finally—when we were moving out of town at a snail’s pace, dodging pot holes right and left as the luggage creaked over our heads—we had to make one more stop for some more cargo. It was maddeningly hot, Annie cried, I got sunburned, I almost cried. Dave apologized profusely for his stupidity in not hiring a taxi to take us the 45 minutes up the dirt road to the settlement, but so it goes—a learning lesson.
But finally we made it! Life here is hard but pleasant so far. Dave and I have both remarked on how much time it takes to simply keep the house going when one has to cook everything from scratch, wipe or sweep the concrete floors daily, do the laundry semi-by-hand, take care of Annie, etc. This makes it obvious why, historically, one or more household member’s time has been devoted to such work. We could both spend all day every day on it.
The first 3 days have been a steep learning curve. I figured out how to gut a fish and succeeded in doing so, after a stiff drink.
A great reward each day is the late-afternoon thunder storm, which cools the weather down wonderfully. Another is taking a swim in the river, which Annie experienced for the first time today.
Yet another is the fact that most of the food we’re eating here is whole, unprocessed, and (relatively) locally-sourced. The last—and perhaps most gratifying—is spending time with Dave’s friends here, who are so welcoming and kind, despite the fact that I mostly just nod my head and smile at them. No doubt, having a cute fat baby along with me makes the interaction easier. People here think she’s great.
