Barra Grande

The rest of my time in Barra Grande, fortunately, was much better. The next morning I ate my breakfast in the fisherman’s village (where I was staying), and a young girl (I’m guessing she was 15) cooked me some scrambled eggs and sweet potato (it’s different from the sweet potato in Canada. This one resembles a root, and tastes and looks like a potato when mashed, but has a sweet taste to it). I ate it with grated coconut, and it was delicious. I chatted a bit with the girl (I believe her name was Dede) over breakfast, and found out that the fisherman had left that morning at 2am for a fishing trip, and would only be back in a few days. After my morning breakfast I had almost forgotten about how bad the room was, and was considering staying another night after the older woman said she would clean it up for me. But after coming back after a day at the beach, it was just as bad as before, and sadly enough I took my backpack and set off. I would have liked to stay there more for the experience, because it was everything but your typical touristy hotel, but at the same time having clean water and enough water to shower are essential factors in any hostel room. I had spent an unexpectedly lovely day walking 9km in the rain towards Taipu de Fora, a beach well known for it’s coral reefs, where I rented some snorkeling gear and set off for the next hour exploring an underground world full of colored fish. I really can’t explain what it was about Barra Grande, because despite the fact that it rained almost the whole time I was there. The next day I went out on a boat trip to visit several nearby islands. It was a bit less adventurous than my first day, but I chatted with a pleasant couple from São Paulo who found it extremely courageous that I was out there travelling alone. I don’t think I could have met any more people or had a more interesting trip travelling with others, because everywhere I went, be it on the boat trip or morning breakfast or on the beach, people would stop and chat for a bit before heading on their way. I’m already planning on heading back to Barra Grande for my last month in Brazil – it will be a bit like living the dream life, this is what my definition of true paradise is – having the whole day ahead of you to do whatever you please, be it surfing, or snorkeling, or diving (which I plan on trying). At the same time, after Barra Grande, I think it will be even harder to leave Brazil! Also, the nice thing about this place is that, unlike so many other touristy spots in Bahia, Barra Grande is still not as commercialized as the others. Twelve years ago, I believe there were only one or two farms here, and the rest of the inhabitants were fisherman. Now, it’s starting to be more well known, but it hasn’t reached the point where you don’t see any of the actual locals when you go in the downtown area, like it is in a few other places I’ve been to, where the town seems to have only tourists. I’m not even sure I should be naming this place, because I want to be able to go back in ten years and still recognize it, which I think is unlikely. My last night I decided to go out, which I had been hesitant at first because I feel a bit strange going out at night on my own, but the owner at the hostel (which was cheaper than my first night, had hot clean running water, and zero cockroaches!) convinced me that I should. Normally I would head back to my hostel at about 8-9pm after wandering downtown, finding that there wasn’t too much to do, but apparently everything started after 10. So that night, as I entered the town square, I was very pleasantly surprised to find a band playing samba, and so many kids dancing in front, while the adults, watched and conversed among themselves. I met someone I had talked to earlier that day, who explained to me how his sister had married a German that had come here on vacation, and now he lives six months in Barra Grande, and six months in Germany. I was not surprised.  Later on, more people started dancing to samba, and I couldn’t help myself. I love Samba – it feels like one of the most natural dances on the planet – there is no fancy footwork like in tango or salsa, you just have to feel the rhythm of the music and move. I couldn’t believe how well the young girls danced – there was one who had to be about 8 or 9 years old, that could dance much better that I could, much  much better. And you dance barefeet! Just recalling these memories fills me with ‘saudades’, which is  a Portuguese word to describe the feeling of missing something.

And just to give an update on the strike, it won’t affect me as much as I thought it would, as only two of my five teachers will be on strike, and they have already told me that they would ‘work something out’ and ‘make an exception’ for my case. Which will probably consist of me having to answer a few questions, hand in an extra paper, and pronto! I’ll have my final mark.

I’ll end this entry with a few chosen pictures of my trip, taken during my walk along the beach from Barra Grande to Taipu de Fora.