Hello Again, Palmeiras
As a means of a quick update:
This morning we arrived, groggy-eyed, at the bus stop where our September adventures all began. As our bus pulled in, the first thing I saw was the GAP store where we once sat slicing fifty kilograms’ worth of okra. Olá Palmeiras, I thought. We’re back.
The seven hour ride still remains dream-like. People rave about the sunrise I never really saw, thanks to my uncanny ability to fall asleep too quickly on moving transport. I do remember, however, passing by an incredible stretch of dry plains filled with tufts of brown, and I do remember the warm cheese sandwiches at the rest stop, Jordan’s homemade granola and the stranger from New Jersey who complained that the bus — which was thoroughly air conditioned — was so hot it made his body turn red.
So goes the voyage to the beautiful Chapada Diamantina region!
So far, the day has been one of sleep, food and rest. I sit in the quaint reception area all by myself, nestled within a set of flower-patterned cushions and feeling the dry wind brush my face. Perhaps later I’ll take a stroll through the community I met when I spoke more Spanish than Portuguese, when I could only crochet single-stitches and felt like a weakling all the time. Before I learnt capoeira or tried acarajé or learnt how to samba or wrote the blog posts and poems I have that capture how multi-faceted the past six months have been.
It seems we’ve come full circle, which is poetic. Yet I’m also incredibly exhausted, both emotionally and physically. To get through, I’ve set myself some short term goals: a) avoid mosquito bites (#savemylegs2017), b) heal my foot and c) be more conscious about the environment in the way I was before the city complacency set in. I have my laptop with me this time, so more updates will arrive in time.