Yesterday was truly an experience. After three weeks of settling in and becoming comfortable with Salvador, Mary and I decided to embark on our first "out of the box" adventure, as I like to call it. We asked Vini, the Volunteer Manager, where we should go that is different, fun, and has beautiful beaches. After going through about every place he knew within a close proximity to Salvador, we finally decided on Arembepe.
Arembepe is a unique town, and a popular destination for locals as well as tourist (although there are very little tourists in Salvador). A close walk from the main square of the town is a hippie village that was visited often by famous hippie musicians such as Janis Joplin and Mick Jagger. The hippies live in their village without the help of electricity or showers. They bathe in the natural pools and ocean that surrounds the village. Many survive off of the local fishing industry and of course the handmade craft market. And apparently, the beaches here are one of a kind. White sand, towering palm trees, tide pools, what could be better?
It was 9 A.M and everything was set. Just as we were about to leave, Emanne, a new volunteer arrived, so Mary and I invited her to come with us. After she got ready, we were finally on our way with specific instructions from Vini on where to go and how to get there. Unfortunately, these precise instructions were not enough to get three Americans to Arembepe successfully.
We had survived yet another taxi ride, so what could go possibly go wrong? We managed to get inside of the Rodoviaria Bus Station and ask three different people where the desk to buy tickets for Linha Verde Company. We did this without any struggle. We even bought the correct tickets, and made it to the correct bus without standing in the wrong line. It was a miracle. After getting on the bus and settling in, I knew that it was too good to be true. Something was about to go very wrong.
Arembepe came and went. Just like that. After an hour and a half of traffic to get out of Salvador, we made it onto the Coconut Highway. The bus kept pausing, briefly, on the side of the major costal highway to take and leave passengers. The three of us were extremely confused. We were warned to get off at Arembepe Square, but we saw no square. Just homes and a restaurant here and there. No place for three young girls to get off a bus. We passed three stops in Arembepe. Then it was gone.
Despite the major disappointment, we were all relaxed though still curious as to where this hippie village was. I knew we had to walk once the bus dropped us off, but we had no idea it would be on the side of the highway (to put this in perspective, it would be like going to Connecticut, and getting dropped off from a bus on side of the Merritt Parkway, and told to walk two kilometers into town).
We once again used our wits and realized that this bus also stops in Praia De Forte, a popular tourist destination, and a place where some other volunteers had previously traveled to. We decided it was a great idea to just spend the day there, even though we didn't want to take the bus for two hours (which really ended up being three because of the traffic) just for the day. That was the reason we decided to go to Arembepe in the first place. It was close.
We got off of the bus with the rest of the passengers and found paradise. Praia De Forte was beautiful. The streets were filled with beautiful stores and restaurants and happy people. After being in Salvador for a week, it becomes a necessity to see people walking down the streets smiling and without anger and fear. The beaches were magnificent. I managed to get away from the other girls for a while with my camera. This well needed alone time turned into a photo shoot with the fish and crabs that I found in the tide pools. We also managed to spot some monkeys, which are comparable to squirrels in New Jersey, and have lunch at a great Brazilian restaurant. I tried Moqueca, which is sort of like a curry, but better! It is one of the only places that I have seen a vegetarian option for this dish. We looked for a hotel or pousada to stay in when we come back in two weekends. A few of them looked nice and were close to the beach, so hopefully they will not be too expensive! There were also men dressed up in scary Halloween masks with garbage bags around their necks and beer in one hand and rope in the other. They chase around children with bells and scare them! We even had three children hiding in front of us when we were on the beach. We later found out that this was because of Carnival, despite it being a month too early.
The bus ride home was smooth, despite the fact that I had to stand for the full two hours. Mary and Emanne got lucky and found seats after a while. So...moral of the story? Don't get off the bus at the side of the highway. Always have a backup plan. Finally, do not be afraid to just go with the flow!
Here is my other update! Today, Mary and I are just going to relax. We slept in..well, Mary is still sleeping, and then we will go to the beach! I am going to buy the drum that I have wanted since I first got here. I feel like if I have wanted something for three weeks, I think it is not a problem to buy it, especially because it is only R$35 ($20 U.S.). Transporting it to Miami, and then back to Costa Rica, and then back to New Jersey should be quite the interesting task. Also, do not expect more pictures on Facebook anytime soon! My free trial of Lightroom has expired, and now I have no way to watermark (copyright) my photographs. I would invest in the program, but its $300.
The other day at the orphanage, one of my favorite children, Ariel (the one in my main Facebook photograph), had a febrile seizure. At the time, the caretakers were unsure of why he had the seizure, but after a medical exam, they were told it was because of an infection on his leg. Later that day, I saw the infection and was completely shocked that he had not been taken to the doctor earlier. His entire leg was covered in scabs. Other than that, the kids have been a lot better since the watercolor mishap. They were able to keep it together enough on Thursday that I brought them word searches and mazes to do as well as puzzles and building blocks! They were even able to handle that much! Hopefully from now on, they will be able to behave a little better!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Aren't Watercolors Supposed To Be Serene?
Words cannot even begin to explain today. The only adjective that I can think of that comes close to explaining this morning is: chaotic.
Like every morning, I prepared a bag of toys and art supplies to entertain the children at the orphanage. Like every morning, I got in the van and was on my way. Unlike every morning, when Eric and I walked in, everyone was awake. I immediately thought to myself that it must have been a rough morning. Usually, half of the kids are either still sleeping or showering.
The older boys, ages 10-12, automatically started questioning me for my iPod to fulfill their obsession with 50 Cent. I know how much all of the caretakers despise the music, so I told them we could listen later. After only thirty minutes of restlessness, the watercolors came out. It started off as a nice art session with two young girls, and turned into twenty five children with paint on their faces, smudged by tears.
"Nao bata! Nao bata! No hitting! No hitting!" I felt like a broken record. Boys throwing paint brushes at the girls. Girls painting each others bodies. Babies trying to eat the paintbrushes. Eric and I running around in attempt to take away all of the supplies.
After way too much time of this nonsense, one of the caretakers finally had it. There was peace. Quiet. Silent tears. I could finally breath again.
The older children, who are clearly role models for the younger ones, were taken outside for a talk from one of the women. They came back, and despite their serious conversation, were still uncontrollable. Then all of the children, with the exception of the babies, were told to sit at the table with their heads down. Some were sent to their rooms.
Although most of this morning was a blur, I cannot help but sympathize for these children. They are so young and hardly leave the orphanage. If I were one of them, I would be going crazy too. This week has been very difficult with Eric and myself being the only two volunteers there. Next week, we are getting one more person which will be fantastic. I want to be able to bring fun things for the kids to play and learn with, but they are never able to get it together just enough to make me want to bring them new toys and games. It is impossible to get them to sit down together and explain a game to them. Or to even color and draw in peace. Or to even eat without hitting the person next to them with a spoon. Volunteering at the orphanage has been one of the most challenging experiences not only this year, but in my life. There is so much I want to teach and show these kids, but I am starting to realize that if I help one child, I am making a difference.
Zaqueu, the little boy I previously wrote about, has been making huge strides in identifying nature. He is beginning to point to plants on his own. Look at the clouds. Play in the rain (until he gets yelled at). Today, he watched raindrops fall from the roof for about ten minutes. He is not able to speak yet, but his wide eyes and teeth-baring grin tell me everything I need to know. He is amazed with nature.
Now for the other updates! Last weekend was very relaxing. Saturday was a well needed hang out day in Salvador. On Sunday, Mary, Eric and I took an Island Tour. We were on a party boat with local music and dancing for a few hours to reach each islands. The first island was small and beautiful, with not much to do. The other island, Itaparica was amazing. We had a great lunch and then went on a bus tour. Although we were sure the bus was from the 1920s and was about to lose its windows, we were able to see some historic landmarks and practice our Spanish (the tour was in Spanish)!
Yesterday, all of the volunteers went on a tour to a local market for the lower-class. Mary passes this market on her way to volunteering every day, and warned me that it looks scary from the outside. She was right. Although it was one of the most frightening places I have been in my life (people everywhere, meat hanging from the ceiling, children manhandling goats from a rope tied around their necks), it was also an extremely unique experience. I was able to snap some great photographs and learn a lot about Candomble, the Afro-Brazilian voodoo religion.
My Portuguese is slowly but surely improving. I am finally catching on to the pronunciation of words. If someone is speaking slowly enough, I can understand what they are generally saying. I still have no idea how to speak though. Hopefully, a lightbulb will go off in my lessons this week!
Tchao!
Like every morning, I prepared a bag of toys and art supplies to entertain the children at the orphanage. Like every morning, I got in the van and was on my way. Unlike every morning, when Eric and I walked in, everyone was awake. I immediately thought to myself that it must have been a rough morning. Usually, half of the kids are either still sleeping or showering.
The older boys, ages 10-12, automatically started questioning me for my iPod to fulfill their obsession with 50 Cent. I know how much all of the caretakers despise the music, so I told them we could listen later. After only thirty minutes of restlessness, the watercolors came out. It started off as a nice art session with two young girls, and turned into twenty five children with paint on their faces, smudged by tears.
"Nao bata! Nao bata! No hitting! No hitting!" I felt like a broken record. Boys throwing paint brushes at the girls. Girls painting each others bodies. Babies trying to eat the paintbrushes. Eric and I running around in attempt to take away all of the supplies.
After way too much time of this nonsense, one of the caretakers finally had it. There was peace. Quiet. Silent tears. I could finally breath again.
The older children, who are clearly role models for the younger ones, were taken outside for a talk from one of the women. They came back, and despite their serious conversation, were still uncontrollable. Then all of the children, with the exception of the babies, were told to sit at the table with their heads down. Some were sent to their rooms.
Although most of this morning was a blur, I cannot help but sympathize for these children. They are so young and hardly leave the orphanage. If I were one of them, I would be going crazy too. This week has been very difficult with Eric and myself being the only two volunteers there. Next week, we are getting one more person which will be fantastic. I want to be able to bring fun things for the kids to play and learn with, but they are never able to get it together just enough to make me want to bring them new toys and games. It is impossible to get them to sit down together and explain a game to them. Or to even color and draw in peace. Or to even eat without hitting the person next to them with a spoon. Volunteering at the orphanage has been one of the most challenging experiences not only this year, but in my life. There is so much I want to teach and show these kids, but I am starting to realize that if I help one child, I am making a difference.
Zaqueu, the little boy I previously wrote about, has been making huge strides in identifying nature. He is beginning to point to plants on his own. Look at the clouds. Play in the rain (until he gets yelled at). Today, he watched raindrops fall from the roof for about ten minutes. He is not able to speak yet, but his wide eyes and teeth-baring grin tell me everything I need to know. He is amazed with nature.
Now for the other updates! Last weekend was very relaxing. Saturday was a well needed hang out day in Salvador. On Sunday, Mary, Eric and I took an Island Tour. We were on a party boat with local music and dancing for a few hours to reach each islands. The first island was small and beautiful, with not much to do. The other island, Itaparica was amazing. We had a great lunch and then went on a bus tour. Although we were sure the bus was from the 1920s and was about to lose its windows, we were able to see some historic landmarks and practice our Spanish (the tour was in Spanish)!
Yesterday, all of the volunteers went on a tour to a local market for the lower-class. Mary passes this market on her way to volunteering every day, and warned me that it looks scary from the outside. She was right. Although it was one of the most frightening places I have been in my life (people everywhere, meat hanging from the ceiling, children manhandling goats from a rope tied around their necks), it was also an extremely unique experience. I was able to snap some great photographs and learn a lot about Candomble, the Afro-Brazilian voodoo religion.
My Portuguese is slowly but surely improving. I am finally catching on to the pronunciation of words. If someone is speaking slowly enough, I can understand what they are generally saying. I still have no idea how to speak though. Hopefully, a lightbulb will go off in my lessons this week!
Tchao!
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Nature and Cities
He was crying. Well, not just crying, but hysterically crying. His arms would occasionally rise in the air as a signal to me to pick him up. When I catered to his request, the sobbing would die down momentarily. The second I took him to sit down, the tears would begin to flow again. With sore arms, I picked him up again and walked around the dull concrete room that is his home. At nearly one years old, Zaqueu has never seen nature. He has left the orphanage only for a visit to the hospital for his bi-monthly checkup.
Something caught my eye. Something not dull, not gray. Green. A little plant in the kitchen. I walked over with Zaqueu in my arms. Be gentle I said, realizing after that he does not understand English. I took my free hand and gently touched a leaf. I was unsure how he would react. Most objects in his sight end up in his mouth or broken. But, the tears stopped immediately. A smile took over his face and giggles began to fill the air. He copied me and began to touch a leaf. He then proceeded to look at the ceiling. He pointed and giggled even more! I tilted my head back to see what he was enjoying. It was completely amazing. He saw a plant growing off the side of the roof. He had made the connection that what he was touching was the same thing above him. I know that this is something so simple, but for an inner-city child that has never been exposed to nature, this was a revelation.
I took him a few feet over from the plant to show him some of the weeds that were growing on the construction site up the stairs. He was shocked and excited. Then he heard chirping. He looked around. Curious. Anxious. Enthusiastic. He saw birds. I pointed and laughed with him. He moved his head with them as they walked and flew. After they had departed the site, I put Zaqueu down, and did not hear him cry again that day.
Today, I wanted to experiment and see if he would react the same way to the plant, even though he was not crying. I picked him up and brought him over to the plant. He immediately began to touch it gently and have the same exact smile and giggle. We then walked back over to the construction site. He found a gecko sitting on the stairs, basking in the sun. He became serious. He was pointing and observing its every move once the gecko became aware of our presence. He was completely amazed. As was I.
All of this makes me think. I understand that Zaqueu is living in an orphanage and food, clothing and shelter are the main priorities of the home. But it may go deeper than that. Based on the recent genre of books I have recently been reading (Environmental Psychology, more specifically involving children), I have come to believe that the most important resource for education, development, and free time may be nature.
I have also been thinking about Salvador as a larger version of the orphanage in which I volunteer. As a whole, this city has very few parks and natural spaces for recreation. Forget playing fields (there are probably ten soccer fields made of dirt in the entire city), but parks and green areas are scarce in this brick and concrete metropolis. This flaw in urban design shows in the community. High crime rates, high unemployment rates, and poverty is obvious in Salvador. It is fact that parks and green spaces impact development in children, and having more of these places would increase the popularity of education. It is true that the government pays citizens of Salvador R$180 per month to send their children to school, but for everyone, the bribe isn't worth it. So, I ask myself the question, and continue to actively inquire: What are the implications and correlations between the scarcity of recreational green spaces, and poverty and high crime rates in Salvador?
More interestingly, let me tell you about what has been going on with me! This week flew by. Working at the orphanage is still completely exhausting, but has become more and more enjoyable as the children get more comfortable with me. I am a bit nervous for next week when it is just Eric and myself. Tomorrow, we are taking the older kids on a trip to the local zoo! Although I hate zoos for moral reasons, I will enjoy being able to show the kids animals and nature. They seem like they need to get out of the house. For all I know, they haven't left in weeks because it is summer and they are not in school.
On Wednesday, there was a slight incident, but thankfully, nobody got hurt. The group of volunteers that work at a different site were on their way home. While they were sitting in traffic, a man tried to cut off the volunteer van. The driver would not let him in. The driver pulled up next to an open window and pointed a gun in the face of one of the female volunteers. The driver let the man in without hesitation. Although this story is very frightening, we all recognized that this type of situation could happen in any city. So, don't be worried! We are all very cautious about everything we do while in public places.
Today, I spent the afternoon shopping in Pelourinho with Lindsay. We had a lot of fun together! I even bought a cute headband! Plans for this weekend are still up in the air. If anything, Mary and I might do an Island Tour for a day and visit two islands. Most of our group, seven people, are leaving on Saturday. Although I wish they were all staying for longer, I am excited for the adventures to come next week!
Check my Facebook again for more photographs from a tour from the other day of the favelas and some other cool places!
PHOTOGRAPHS HERE!
Something caught my eye. Something not dull, not gray. Green. A little plant in the kitchen. I walked over with Zaqueu in my arms. Be gentle I said, realizing after that he does not understand English. I took my free hand and gently touched a leaf. I was unsure how he would react. Most objects in his sight end up in his mouth or broken. But, the tears stopped immediately. A smile took over his face and giggles began to fill the air. He copied me and began to touch a leaf. He then proceeded to look at the ceiling. He pointed and giggled even more! I tilted my head back to see what he was enjoying. It was completely amazing. He saw a plant growing off the side of the roof. He had made the connection that what he was touching was the same thing above him. I know that this is something so simple, but for an inner-city child that has never been exposed to nature, this was a revelation.
I took him a few feet over from the plant to show him some of the weeds that were growing on the construction site up the stairs. He was shocked and excited. Then he heard chirping. He looked around. Curious. Anxious. Enthusiastic. He saw birds. I pointed and laughed with him. He moved his head with them as they walked and flew. After they had departed the site, I put Zaqueu down, and did not hear him cry again that day.
Today, I wanted to experiment and see if he would react the same way to the plant, even though he was not crying. I picked him up and brought him over to the plant. He immediately began to touch it gently and have the same exact smile and giggle. We then walked back over to the construction site. He found a gecko sitting on the stairs, basking in the sun. He became serious. He was pointing and observing its every move once the gecko became aware of our presence. He was completely amazed. As was I.
All of this makes me think. I understand that Zaqueu is living in an orphanage and food, clothing and shelter are the main priorities of the home. But it may go deeper than that. Based on the recent genre of books I have recently been reading (Environmental Psychology, more specifically involving children), I have come to believe that the most important resource for education, development, and free time may be nature.
I have also been thinking about Salvador as a larger version of the orphanage in which I volunteer. As a whole, this city has very few parks and natural spaces for recreation. Forget playing fields (there are probably ten soccer fields made of dirt in the entire city), but parks and green areas are scarce in this brick and concrete metropolis. This flaw in urban design shows in the community. High crime rates, high unemployment rates, and poverty is obvious in Salvador. It is fact that parks and green spaces impact development in children, and having more of these places would increase the popularity of education. It is true that the government pays citizens of Salvador R$180 per month to send their children to school, but for everyone, the bribe isn't worth it. So, I ask myself the question, and continue to actively inquire: What are the implications and correlations between the scarcity of recreational green spaces, and poverty and high crime rates in Salvador?
More interestingly, let me tell you about what has been going on with me! This week flew by. Working at the orphanage is still completely exhausting, but has become more and more enjoyable as the children get more comfortable with me. I am a bit nervous for next week when it is just Eric and myself. Tomorrow, we are taking the older kids on a trip to the local zoo! Although I hate zoos for moral reasons, I will enjoy being able to show the kids animals and nature. They seem like they need to get out of the house. For all I know, they haven't left in weeks because it is summer and they are not in school.
On Wednesday, there was a slight incident, but thankfully, nobody got hurt. The group of volunteers that work at a different site were on their way home. While they were sitting in traffic, a man tried to cut off the volunteer van. The driver would not let him in. The driver pulled up next to an open window and pointed a gun in the face of one of the female volunteers. The driver let the man in without hesitation. Although this story is very frightening, we all recognized that this type of situation could happen in any city. So, don't be worried! We are all very cautious about everything we do while in public places.
Today, I spent the afternoon shopping in Pelourinho with Lindsay. We had a lot of fun together! I even bought a cute headband! Plans for this weekend are still up in the air. If anything, Mary and I might do an Island Tour for a day and visit two islands. Most of our group, seven people, are leaving on Saturday. Although I wish they were all staying for longer, I am excited for the adventures to come next week!
Check my Facebook again for more photographs from a tour from the other day of the favelas and some other cool places!
PHOTOGRAPHS HERE!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Adventures in Brazil
Adventure Number 1: Lavagem do Bonfim
I carefully tied the white bracelet to my wrist. Three knots, as instructed, wishes laced in between each. I briefly glanced over my right shoulder to find a group of men dressed up in spooky costumes. A bit frightened, I briefly glanced over my left shoulder to find a group of women dressed up in large, white dresses. I was thoroughly confused about my surroundings as well as the fact that everyone, including myself, was wearing white. But, I was there. I had my camera out, ready to shoot. My sneakers on, ready to walk.
Not knowing what was going on, we waited around for the locals to lead the way. And so it began. The four mile walk to the Bonfim Church for a ceremony we knew nothing about. All I was informed of was that the people of Salvador come together to celebrate the washing of Bonfim Church (Lavagem do Bonfim).
A headache and three hours later, we finally arrived at the church. All ten-thousand of us. Thousands of hands were in the air ceremoniously. Tears streamed down the faces of the locals. I was amazed at how passionate the people were about this event. Just minutes ago, we were walking amongst drunks and musicians and dancers. And now? People in prayer with and for one another.
While amongst the crowd, we managed to lose one of our group members. She was found two minutes later with the other half of the volunteers. Together, we walked off to find a taxi back to the base house. Absolute disaster. Despite the fact that we asked the police to point out where we would be able to catch a few taxis, we managed to be walking around in what a New Yorker would call, "The ghetto." I felt completely safe because it was the middle of the day and there were people walking around, but the vast majority of the group did not. I am pretty sure that every single local that was on the street where we were searching for a taxi managed to stare us down. After all, it was quite obvious that we had no idea where we were going and we did not belong. Forty-five minutes later, we got our act together and walked to a main intersection to catch three taxis within two minutes.
It gets better. From our location, the taxi drive should have taken about ten minutes. Maximum. Of course all of the roads that lead directly to the house were closed for the march to the church. That taxi ride was the most frightening ride of my life. There were four of us in my taxi. All girls. As much as I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, I was very doubtful that we were not going home. Five minutes into the car ride, we were in the middle of the favelas. Not somewhere we should be. Not somewhere the car should be stopped in traffic. Not somewhere the car should be without gas in the tank. Or with four female tourists in the car. Forget the fact that we almost did not make it up some of the extremely steep hills and half-way down one of them. Our main concern was the fact that our gas tank was on empty. But, once again, we made it home safe and sound (although we were all extremely nauseous from the two hour ride).
Adventure Number 2: Morro de Sao Paulo
Since we survived the taxi ride to the ship terminal, I assumed that our trip to this gem of an island would be successful. I could not have been more accurate. The two hour catamaran ride was amazing. I have never seen water so calm. Mary, Lindsay and I sat outside for most of the voyage. I met this nice guy from Argentina. Little did we know that he understood English perfectly. We were ignorant to think that nobody on the boat spoke English, so we were saying things as we pleased. Oops. Anyways, I was able to take some beautiful photographs of the still water and even some flying fish!
When we got to the island, we could not have been more excited. It was beautiful. There were no cars, and tons of tourists. We finally felt as if we could walk around without the threat of getting mugged. Cute boutiques and small pousadas (hotels) lined the sandy roads. Taxis, known to others as wheel-barrows, assisted visitors with their baggage and even their children. The soft and white sandy beaches were stunning. People were so happy. All in all, a satisfying contrast from Salvador. We had been there for five minutes when we decided we never wanted to leave.
Our hotel was on the third beach, a bit of a walk, but not too far from the restaurants. It sat right on the beach with apartments and villas spread out amongst the large property. Because there were five girls in total, we rented a villa for the night. Although many of my friends did not like the gecko living in the room, I did not mind. There were two levels and more importantly, air conditioning. We spent the afternoon at the beach and bought tickets to the club that was recommended by the guy I met on the boat (it was also recommended by a website we looked at before we went).
We had a nice candle-lit Italian dinner on the beach before going out for the night. The club was high up on a hill, but well worth the hike. We managed to stay at the club until five thirty in the morning! I saw the guy from the boat again with his five friends. The two groups spent the night dancing and talking. We were planning on seeing them on the beach the next day, but I went shopping with two of my friends instead. We started our walk back in the dark, and ended it in the light. The sunrise was absolutely stunning and I was so upset that my camera was back in the hotel room. Mary and I decided to get crepes, even though it took an hour. It was well worth it to taste Nutella once again.
The boat ride back was a little bit different then the ride to the island. Half of the passengers were leaning over the side to throw up and the other half was sleeping inside. I was sitting in the back with my eyes half closed and trying not to think about getting nauseous. We all practically kissed the land when we got back to Salvador. I am proud to say that we made it back to the house, once again, safe and sound!
Today was a rough day back at the orphanage. Every time one person cried, it seemed as if everyone began to cry. I got thrown up on, baby food spilt on me, and boogers on my arm, but overall, it was a good day.
To see some more photographs from my adventures, check out the following Facebook link:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2072406&id=1341960108&l=5a397921d3
Friday, January 14, 2011
Step By Step
I started off in New Zealand, possessed by anxiety, nervousness, excitement, and every other emotion possible. Knowing that my mixed emotions were normal helped me settle into my new environment with little hesitation. The tranquil environment in Wellington was soothing. I was also able to overcome the difficulties with my first internship at Zealandia, and create a compromise with Zealandia, Angela (the woman who runs Live New Zealand), and myself. Despite this minute hardship, my overall experience was incredible with little social difficulties and a lot of travel. The comfort and security of New Zealand helped me to establish myself and prepare for the next few months of traveling. So, what was the most difficult part of my trip to New Zealand? Leaving.
After New Zealand came Australia. The chaos and melancholy of my departure from the previous country left me no time to encounter emotions about this new place. My first week was interesting. Overtired, New Zealand-sick, and sweaty, I was what one could call a wreck. After re-arranging my flight so I would be in Australia for three weeks instead of four, I felt as if a brick was taken off of my shoulder. I acknowledged the fact that I needed to explore my past experiences, but also be there (in Australia) now. My quick shift in attitude was welcomed by my peers and rewarded with their friendship. The work was physically draining and often boring, but the new bonds I had made with my co-volunteers helped to lighten the mood. Newcastle became a place where I felt comfortable and safe. So, what was the most difficult part of my trip to Australia? Leaving.
Moving from English speaking nations to Costa Rica was nerve-racking and exciting. Learning and practicing photography and Spanish in a new place seemed ideal to me. After all, I had traveled to the other side of the world and made it back in one piece with stories ranging from scary to exciting. I had experienced it all. Wrong. Upon my arrival to Jaco, I was alone and afraid. My research on the surfer town made me uneasy. Theft. Drugs. Prostitution. Wrong. After experiencing Jaco and realizing the implications of my predetermined judgement on the town, Jaco became my home. I felt as if everyone was family. Nobody would ever touch me or steal from me, and if someone tried, I knew another person walking down the street would be there to help. Drugs and prostitution only existed in certain clubs, and I knew the places I should not go. Gaining my wits and strengthening my knowledge of Spanish was extremely helpful in becoming safe and comfortable in my environment. I made friends that I will stay in contact with for the years to come. So, what was the most difficult part of my trip to Costa Rica? Leaving.
Here I am in Brazil. Four months later. I no longer struggled when I first arrived. The group of volunteers became friends instantly. When I first arrived, I had a different struggle. On the drive from the airport to the volunteer house, I realized that Salvador is entirely different than any of the places I had been before. Many think of Salvador as a city of poverty, but I have come to know it as a true example of the world. The city's small middle-class is juxtaposed to the impoverished majority. My one and a half hour taxi ride through the favelas (shanty-towns) yesterday was eye-opening and frightening. People live without windows and doors. They struggle on the streets to get food. Attempt to sell bracelets made in China on the beach to make money to have water for their children. In some cases, people will steal in any way possible in order to survive. I have seen poverty before, but was never able to empathize with it in the way I do now. The reason? Because the children I play with each day in the orphanage make such an impression on me? Or maybe because I have seen so many different cultures and lifestyles in the past few months that I am starting to get a true sense of globalization, or the lack thereof.
Yesterday, I Walked through the streets of the lower city for Lavagen do Bonfin (a religious festival in Salvador) amongst the diverse people of Salvador as a tourist. I hope to leave in six weeks as someone who is proud to have lived in Salvador for two months. So, what will be the hardest part of my trip to Brazil? Leaving.
In other news, I created my first photography website! I spent a lot of time on it, so please look at it carefully! As an artist, I would appreciate criticism, both positive and negative so that I can improve my work and the website. The site is an ongoing process and will continue to get new photographs, so please check back once in a while. Also, I would appreciate it if you could mass email or text the web address to anyone and everyone! The more people that know about me, the better my chances are of gaining opportunities in the field of photography! And most importantly, enjoy the photographs (click on the link below)!
Rachel Hartman Photography
After New Zealand came Australia. The chaos and melancholy of my departure from the previous country left me no time to encounter emotions about this new place. My first week was interesting. Overtired, New Zealand-sick, and sweaty, I was what one could call a wreck. After re-arranging my flight so I would be in Australia for three weeks instead of four, I felt as if a brick was taken off of my shoulder. I acknowledged the fact that I needed to explore my past experiences, but also be there (in Australia) now. My quick shift in attitude was welcomed by my peers and rewarded with their friendship. The work was physically draining and often boring, but the new bonds I had made with my co-volunteers helped to lighten the mood. Newcastle became a place where I felt comfortable and safe. So, what was the most difficult part of my trip to Australia? Leaving.
Moving from English speaking nations to Costa Rica was nerve-racking and exciting. Learning and practicing photography and Spanish in a new place seemed ideal to me. After all, I had traveled to the other side of the world and made it back in one piece with stories ranging from scary to exciting. I had experienced it all. Wrong. Upon my arrival to Jaco, I was alone and afraid. My research on the surfer town made me uneasy. Theft. Drugs. Prostitution. Wrong. After experiencing Jaco and realizing the implications of my predetermined judgement on the town, Jaco became my home. I felt as if everyone was family. Nobody would ever touch me or steal from me, and if someone tried, I knew another person walking down the street would be there to help. Drugs and prostitution only existed in certain clubs, and I knew the places I should not go. Gaining my wits and strengthening my knowledge of Spanish was extremely helpful in becoming safe and comfortable in my environment. I made friends that I will stay in contact with for the years to come. So, what was the most difficult part of my trip to Costa Rica? Leaving.
Here I am in Brazil. Four months later. I no longer struggled when I first arrived. The group of volunteers became friends instantly. When I first arrived, I had a different struggle. On the drive from the airport to the volunteer house, I realized that Salvador is entirely different than any of the places I had been before. Many think of Salvador as a city of poverty, but I have come to know it as a true example of the world. The city's small middle-class is juxtaposed to the impoverished majority. My one and a half hour taxi ride through the favelas (shanty-towns) yesterday was eye-opening and frightening. People live without windows and doors. They struggle on the streets to get food. Attempt to sell bracelets made in China on the beach to make money to have water for their children. In some cases, people will steal in any way possible in order to survive. I have seen poverty before, but was never able to empathize with it in the way I do now. The reason? Because the children I play with each day in the orphanage make such an impression on me? Or maybe because I have seen so many different cultures and lifestyles in the past few months that I am starting to get a true sense of globalization, or the lack thereof.
Yesterday, I Walked through the streets of the lower city for Lavagen do Bonfin (a religious festival in Salvador) amongst the diverse people of Salvador as a tourist. I hope to leave in six weeks as someone who is proud to have lived in Salvador for two months. So, what will be the hardest part of my trip to Brazil? Leaving.
In other news, I created my first photography website! I spent a lot of time on it, so please look at it carefully! As an artist, I would appreciate criticism, both positive and negative so that I can improve my work and the website. The site is an ongoing process and will continue to get new photographs, so please check back once in a while. Also, I would appreciate it if you could mass email or text the web address to anyone and everyone! The more people that know about me, the better my chances are of gaining opportunities in the field of photography! And most importantly, enjoy the photographs (click on the link below)!
Rachel Hartman Photography
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
"It's a Hard Knock Life For Us"
Despite the well known musical Annie, the orphanage I am volunteering in is nothing close to the New York home for children, represented in both the Broadway show and movie. Miss Hannigan does not exist, the children are not doing chores all day long (at least when the volunteers are present), and there are not just girls, but boys as well.
When I first read that I would only be volunteering in the morning, I was a bit concerned that I would not be doing enough or be bored in the afternoons, but both of my theories were inaccurate. The four hours that we volunteer feels like an eternity. Caring for thirty bored children is one of the biggest challenges I have ever faced, and am extremely exhausted by the time that we return back to the volunteer house.
On our first morning, we pulled up to the orphanage after a twenty minute drive, to find ourselves in a poor, but still somewhat safe, area of Salvador. One of the older kids let us in and we entered the world of chaos. There were children running around with no sense of organization. Something they are used to. Something the volunteers were not. Although the mornings are long and tiring, we manage to laugh and have a great time with the kids. I enjoy taking care of the infants the most. I have a very difficult time with the five to ten year olds because of their violent dispositions and of course, the language barrier.
In the afternoons, we always have different activities planned. On Monday, we had a Capoeira lesson. Capoeira is the martial arts, disguised as dance, that the slaves used to practice many years ago. It was extremely difficult for my extremely uncoordinated body! Yesterday, we went on a tour of Pelourinho, which was very informative and fun! I also got to take a lot of cool photographs. Today, we are having a professor from the University of Salvador, to speak to us about the history of Brazil.
This weekend, my friends and I are taking a catamaran to an island called Morro de Sao Paulo, to hang out on the beach and explore.
For those of you without Facebook, here are some photographs for you!
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2072406&id=1341960108&l=5a397921d3
Also, I have begun the process of designing a website for my photography! Coming soon...
When I first read that I would only be volunteering in the morning, I was a bit concerned that I would not be doing enough or be bored in the afternoons, but both of my theories were inaccurate. The four hours that we volunteer feels like an eternity. Caring for thirty bored children is one of the biggest challenges I have ever faced, and am extremely exhausted by the time that we return back to the volunteer house.
On our first morning, we pulled up to the orphanage after a twenty minute drive, to find ourselves in a poor, but still somewhat safe, area of Salvador. One of the older kids let us in and we entered the world of chaos. There were children running around with no sense of organization. Something they are used to. Something the volunteers were not. Although the mornings are long and tiring, we manage to laugh and have a great time with the kids. I enjoy taking care of the infants the most. I have a very difficult time with the five to ten year olds because of their violent dispositions and of course, the language barrier.
In the afternoons, we always have different activities planned. On Monday, we had a Capoeira lesson. Capoeira is the martial arts, disguised as dance, that the slaves used to practice many years ago. It was extremely difficult for my extremely uncoordinated body! Yesterday, we went on a tour of Pelourinho, which was very informative and fun! I also got to take a lot of cool photographs. Today, we are having a professor from the University of Salvador, to speak to us about the history of Brazil.
This weekend, my friends and I are taking a catamaran to an island called Morro de Sao Paulo, to hang out on the beach and explore.
For those of you without Facebook, here are some photographs for you!
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2072406&id=1341960108&l=5a397921d3
Also, I have begun the process of designing a website for my photography! Coming soon...
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Bem-vindo ao Brasil!
The city of Salvador. A city of which I have not yet figured out my feelings for. From my experience at CITYterm, I have learned that I cannot judge a city from my initial experience, but from multiple encounters with the city itself. Two days is nowhere near enough time to come up with a generalization about an entire city the size of New York! So I can explain to you the experience I have thus far encountered, and let you judge Salvador for yourself.
Salvador is a city of great diversity. There is a huge Afro-Brazilian presence that is unique to this particular city in Brazil. On the economic side, there is a huge problem. The so called, middle-class, has quite a small presence, if any. This leaves two options, having a lot of money, or none. The latter is definitely more prevalent. The beach close to the volunteer house feels like "a mixture of Jamaica, South Africa, and Croatia" according to a co-volunteer. Although I have only been to Jamaica, I can certainly understand her thoughts.
When riding in the VW from the 70s to the volunteer house yesterday, I was amazed at how impoverished the city was. Favelas, or shanty-towns, were taking over both sides of the highway, and continued to creep into the downtown area. The beach I wrote about before is always incredibly busy, filled with enough people that it is difficult to see the sand. Although all of the volunteers always travel together, we are constantly bombarded by locals attempting to sell us things from bracelets to local cuisine to sunscreen. We quickly learned the correct words and attitude to be left alone, "Nao, obrigada," with a stern face...no smiles. As hard as we try, we always manage to laugh after at each others attempts to be stern.
The area surrounding the Cross-Cultural Solutions volunteer house is what would be considered the middle-class area. Located around the house is a McDonalds, a pharmacy, a HSBC, and a few gas stations. The beach and cafes are a quick walk downhill, and a long walk back to the house. The house is large with multiple rooms and bathrooms, and great areas to hang out. There is a television and wireless internet throughout the house to feed the technologically addicted volunteers' needs. It is clean and safe, although we have spotted multiple cockroaches already (they are a huge problem in this city...we have seen them everywhere!).
Now, let me tell you what I have been up to! I arrived yesterday morning via first class. How did I manage to get upgraded? Well, I received a generous donation to the Rachel Fund from my parents. I could have spent another four hours sleeping on the plane. I was also able to use the Presidents' Club in the airport in Miami. I spent a few days for my dad's birthday in Ft. Lauderdale at a nice resort. We met both sets of grandparents for lovely dinners, and managed to go to the Everglades as well. I still cannot believe that after all of these years of going to Florida, I did not make it to the Everglades until last week. I got some great shots of alligators and the beautiful landscapes.
Ivan picked me up from the airport along with Mary and Abby. We took a thirty minute drive to the volunteer house in which we were the first to arrive. We proceeded to our assigned rooms and began to unpack. The rest of the crew slowly but surely began to arrive. After a morning of unpacking and recuperating from the long night of travel. After, we took a stroll to the beach and had some great ice cream. Vini, the head of the program, had his cousin over, who is sixteen, and she helped us find our way around. She wanted to practice her english, and spoke Portuguese to others when we needed help. Last night, we all went out to Pelourinho, an area of Salvador with bright, beautiful colors and cobblestone roads. After checking out the scene, we found a cute little bar with live music outside. We were enjoying our time there until the rain forced us to move elsewhere. We were fortunate enough then to find a cool club with a huge concert. We toughed it out through the rain, and waited in line to get in. It was well worth the hour of getting drenched to get in. Everyone at the club was dancing and having a great time.
Today, I slept until 10:15 and then attended the volunteer orientation. After, we all went to the beach again for the day. I managed to get a nice tan and no burn! Tonight we are just going to have a movie night in preparation for our first day of volunteer work tomorrow. I will be working in an orphanage in a favela. I will keep everyone updated!
In my attempt to learn Portuguese, Tchao!
Salvador is a city of great diversity. There is a huge Afro-Brazilian presence that is unique to this particular city in Brazil. On the economic side, there is a huge problem. The so called, middle-class, has quite a small presence, if any. This leaves two options, having a lot of money, or none. The latter is definitely more prevalent. The beach close to the volunteer house feels like "a mixture of Jamaica, South Africa, and Croatia" according to a co-volunteer. Although I have only been to Jamaica, I can certainly understand her thoughts.
When riding in the VW from the 70s to the volunteer house yesterday, I was amazed at how impoverished the city was. Favelas, or shanty-towns, were taking over both sides of the highway, and continued to creep into the downtown area. The beach I wrote about before is always incredibly busy, filled with enough people that it is difficult to see the sand. Although all of the volunteers always travel together, we are constantly bombarded by locals attempting to sell us things from bracelets to local cuisine to sunscreen. We quickly learned the correct words and attitude to be left alone, "Nao, obrigada," with a stern face...no smiles. As hard as we try, we always manage to laugh after at each others attempts to be stern.
The area surrounding the Cross-Cultural Solutions volunteer house is what would be considered the middle-class area. Located around the house is a McDonalds, a pharmacy, a HSBC, and a few gas stations. The beach and cafes are a quick walk downhill, and a long walk back to the house. The house is large with multiple rooms and bathrooms, and great areas to hang out. There is a television and wireless internet throughout the house to feed the technologically addicted volunteers' needs. It is clean and safe, although we have spotted multiple cockroaches already (they are a huge problem in this city...we have seen them everywhere!).
Now, let me tell you what I have been up to! I arrived yesterday morning via first class. How did I manage to get upgraded? Well, I received a generous donation to the Rachel Fund from my parents. I could have spent another four hours sleeping on the plane. I was also able to use the Presidents' Club in the airport in Miami. I spent a few days for my dad's birthday in Ft. Lauderdale at a nice resort. We met both sets of grandparents for lovely dinners, and managed to go to the Everglades as well. I still cannot believe that after all of these years of going to Florida, I did not make it to the Everglades until last week. I got some great shots of alligators and the beautiful landscapes.
Ivan picked me up from the airport along with Mary and Abby. We took a thirty minute drive to the volunteer house in which we were the first to arrive. We proceeded to our assigned rooms and began to unpack. The rest of the crew slowly but surely began to arrive. After a morning of unpacking and recuperating from the long night of travel. After, we took a stroll to the beach and had some great ice cream. Vini, the head of the program, had his cousin over, who is sixteen, and she helped us find our way around. She wanted to practice her english, and spoke Portuguese to others when we needed help. Last night, we all went out to Pelourinho, an area of Salvador with bright, beautiful colors and cobblestone roads. After checking out the scene, we found a cute little bar with live music outside. We were enjoying our time there until the rain forced us to move elsewhere. We were fortunate enough then to find a cool club with a huge concert. We toughed it out through the rain, and waited in line to get in. It was well worth the hour of getting drenched to get in. Everyone at the club was dancing and having a great time.
Today, I slept until 10:15 and then attended the volunteer orientation. After, we all went to the beach again for the day. I managed to get a nice tan and no burn! Tonight we are just going to have a movie night in preparation for our first day of volunteer work tomorrow. I will be working in an orphanage in a favela. I will keep everyone updated!
In my attempt to learn Portuguese, Tchao!
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