English, Nestor, Franciney and Favellaville

Im done complaining about my health as I am using advil to keep the swelling down. I will discuss it again if I end up in a hospital as for now, I will deal.

Saturday was uneventful until 2pm came around and we were scheduled for a boat ride. Not the way you think, when you are on vacation and you go down to a pier and book a tour. No, No, No. This is the third world. We randomly go down to a pier where a family lives out of a hut and negotiate for a boat the size of a canoe with a motor on the end of it. We tell him where to go and along the way we hope that nothing goes wrong as it is clear they dont have communication whatsoever, no radios, no phone service, just lifejackets and a cd player.

We make our way onto the river as my nerves quell and the picture taking bonanza occurs. There are so many amazonians living throughout the capillaries of the river. Take a left or a right and follow canals and you can bet you will hit a shack, a favella, or even a community with a school surrounded by water. It was a little concerning when we came upon a family with over 6 kids running around naked, but maybe thats the norm.

Another bout with the power of now came when we drove through a canal of trees to an open body of water that was serene and completely quiet from industrial life - only the sounds of nature as If I were listening to a pure moods medley. What a moment. I felt as if I was the only human in that location.

Eventually we find our way back to the main river and zip to the other end where the Amaggi Group has a full factory with Grain Elevators and Barges. This company is well known in the area as one of the last standing ones and connection to the outside world. They focus a lot on soybeans. Their massive ships and buoys beyond their complex was quite impressive - I wanted to know a bit more, but we were on a time schedule.





I was due to visit the St. Antonio Festival which is a yearly event in ITA that involves the church. Praying, singing, parading, family, food and fun. It was interesting to see the whole community come out for this event - but truly, what else do they have to do. Their focus is on food and shelter at all times, so the option of a free festival is extremely exciting. Another moment of how tall I am as I walk through the crowds as Andre the Giant.




My new friend English (yes thats his name) who has one leg and drives me around the festival on a motorcycle with no helmet happens to know a total of 5-10 English words. Lorenzo introduced me to him and then sent us on his way. Try explaining you want something to eat. Can I get some takeout please! I will even eat chinese food at this moment. Oh and RED MANGO would be great right now (for those of you who dont know, its better than Pinkberry).

After serious amounts of sign language, English and I motor our way from the Parade to a lunchonette where I order a burger and SKOL (second beer of the trip) I make English order the same. I can at least buy him some food since he is paying for the gas to run me around. Gas here is WAYYYYYYY cheap (1 dollar a gallon) and since everyone has a motorcycle - mileage is spectacular - and the city is about the size of a small town in Long Island -so getting around is less than a mile.

Some random friend of English - Nestor - arrives along with Franciney (the driver that took me to ITA at 120 mph) They want to take me out to the festival after parties, but no one speaks english - so I agree but have no idea what I am agreeing too. They indicate not to bring my camera as, I think it sounded like it might be dangerous so I leave it behind.

Onto Nestors motorcycle I hold on tight and spit out the flies and wipe my eyes as dust whips in my eyes the whole ride. We arrive at a Favella nightspot that has hundreds of people mulling outside. It seems these are the nightgoers that cant afford the 8 Reales (4 dollars) cover. We squeeze past them and enter past the bodyguards. Now im definitely in a no going back situation and I dont have my cell for emergency. Total trust in these guys. Turns out only Franciney goes in with me - I assume those other guys didnt have the 8 reales - no clue - never saw them again.
Franciney and I enter into - only way to describe it is a MASSIVE Beer Garden but with a huge concrete flooring set up for dancing and a Stage at the back where different bands play loud brazillian music (samba). Every hour the band changes and there is a side concrete section with a DJ and club music for others. One section to buy beer and people everywhere. Not prepared with my bug spray the biting emerges. So annoying.

Now understand this. An American dressed like Crocodile Dundee and a fat, tall, bald, goetee brazillian driver as my wingman. I dont think there was one person in that entire place who didnt see us. The looks got worse when we decided to try and dance. He was decent, I was not. The music was great, but I was getting tired at the hour came close to 2am. Not my usual and my body was making me know it. I indicate us to leave and Franciney understands. We waltz out into favellaville and are approached by motocabs (motorcycle cabs).

On one hand it was quite a fun time, with good band music jams and a new experience. On the other hand, I felt a sense of sorrow for the way of life and location.

What the heck happened to English and Nestor...