Back in Belem

The rainy season has arrived.

Hi everyone! So here's what I've been up to the past two weeks in Belem. As you can see above, we got back from our trip just in time to see the rainy season roll around here - and to see the mosquitos come with it... At school we've divided our time between Portuguese class and figuring out our final research project that starts next month, but outside of class I decided to explore the city a little more. First I decided to revisit Ver-O-Peso, the downtown market where you can get virtually anything leaving the Amazon: fish, fruit, nuts, grains, vegetables, medicines, plants, you name it. After getting over the fear of having my camera stolen, I decided to poke around the market a bit with it.

The first stalls I passed through here were in brazil nut section (yes, a whole section for one type of nut). The process is really something. Only two animals have proven able to break open brazil nut shells: a small rodent that lives in the Amazon and the machete-wielding human. The vendors in this area would take several small, precise hacks at each nut at just the right spot to break it open. Sometimes they'd talk to me without paying any attention to where their machete was even landing. Also, they're a lot better here than back in the U.S. I really couldn't say why.

Next I visited the manioc section. The tuber is processed - whether by hacking, cooking, or beating - into at least a dozen or so different forms of food from what I've seen. Normally its made into some variety of farinha (above) and sprinkled on just about any meal people eat here. People also eat the tuber like potatoes, use the small fruits the plant produces to make pastry-like edibles, or cook the plant's leaves for 5-10 days to make jambu. I had jambu for the first time two weekends ago. Turns out that very small traces of cyanide in the leaf actually numb your tongue when you eat it, and the reason they cook it so long is to reduce the levels of cyanide...

Next up I passed the shrimp stands. They dry their shrimp before adding them to dishes, and then eat them without shelling them. Then I arrived at the fish market and saw the fish above. The fish was an aruana, and grows more than a meter long by jumping out of the water to snag large insects and birds (!) from branches hanging over the water. This one was huge by normal standards, and was selling for about $18/kilo. Supposedly its great when fried and served with açaí.

After leaving the stink of the fish market I headed along the boardwalk to the spices section. Most spices come in the form of bright, cherry-sized peppers native to the Amazon. Vendors had been offering samples of their foods to me throughout the market, but I decided to skip the free samples in this section. The color itself though was incredible. Most of the spices were either mashed into powder form or bottled in plastic water/coke bottles, if not just sold raw like the man above was doing.

Next up was Medicine Row. I wasn't sure about all the labeling, but the vendors assured me that they could fix any/all of the ailments they could just knew I had. Some of their claims seemed a bit of a stretch to me, but it was really cool to see how many different concoctions came out of the Amazon. Many times these were simply the medicines we have back home, just without a flashy product name or big pharmaceutical company to back them up.

The next day I met up with my friend Joe and visited a few museums near Ver-O-Peso. Above was the Palace of Eleven Windows, an 18th century palace that later functioned as a military hospital. They had some interesting photography exhibits there, but the view from the second floor over the Amazon basin was awesome. I learned the other day that the river passing Belem is only 1% of the Amazon's total outflow into the Atlantic. In other words, imagine 100 of those rivers flowing out to the Amazon simultaneously and you'll get a picture of the Amazon's collective mouth.

That night I came back to the colonial district once more for dinnner. Several of the city's old docks had been converted recently into As Docas (literally "The Docks" - sure is creative isn't it?) a dining/shopping destination for Belem's tourists and well-off residents, but they kept the port infrastructure and refurbished the buildings to keep the industrial feel. That night was the first time I enjoyed the Paraense gelato flavor: açaí mixed with tapioca (a form of manioc). Ben and Jerry's should seriously consider adding a new flavor...
Also, I've tried both ox liver (yes, ox liver) and bacuri beer in the past week. I don't know how, but the people at As Docas somehow brew fruit into their beer.

Amazon Trip

We started off the trip with a late-night flight from Belem to Manaus on September 21st. We arrived early in the morning at the hotel in downtown Manaus, then went exploring the next morning. Our hotel looked out over the downtown plaza, which shared its space with the city's opera house. The opera house was built during the rubber boom at the turn of the 20th century, when Manaus was experiencing better economic times. The few who benefited from the boom oversaw the project. The opera house was actually first pieced together in France, only to be disassembled and shipped piece by piece up the Amazon. (Turns out that Brazilian elites also thought the Amazon was too dirty for their laundry - they had it shipped to France to be washed.) A couple of us saw a festival there on night: samba, gospel-rock (?), country-esque, and a half dozen other genres all in one show. It seems people here often enjoy more than one type of music, so I guess we were the only ones that found it odd that the samba performer was followed by punk rockers.

Like Belem, you can still see glimpses of boom-era architecture around the city. But these days, much of it is looking a little worse for wear despite efforts to restore its former glory. Even the theater seemed a bit worn down around the edges.

Across the plaza was this great NGO that acted as a middleman for indigenous groups wishing to sell their goods. Not only did you know you were getting the real thing, you also knew down to the location, tribe, and gender of the person who made it.

After exploring the store and the city's market by the Rio Negro, we headed out to the Permaculture Institute of the Amazon, which sought to establish better agricultural practices among farmers in the region. We got a firsthand look at the crops, orchards, even bee hives that were maintained on the premises as models of how nutrients, water and energy can be sustainably used at the micro level.

The next day we received a talk from the Vitoria-Amazonica Foundation, which works with indigenous groups and other Amazonian groups to establish management plans and land titles for their communities. Later that day, we heard from INPA (National Institute for Amazonian Research) on the effects of deforestation and isolated forests around the region.

The next day we headed out to Presidente Figueiredo, a small town about 3 hours north of Manaus. The highway we took was in fact the only paved road that reaches Manaus from the outside world - the Venezuelan border was about 20-30 hours further down the road. The town itself was named after one of Brazil's presidents during the military dictatorship. Plans to develop the area north of Manaus included the town and the Balbini Dam, possibly the biggest failure of a dam in modern history. Such a failure during that time got a town named after you, I guess. We pressed on to a private reserve, where people from all around came to see its waterfalls. Luckily, we were the only ones there virtually all morning. Afterwords, we were lectured on ecotourism in the region.

Our last day in Manaus was a brief one. At 9am we gathered at the plaza to head for our boat at the docks. Oddly enough, docks weren't anywhere in sight - nor did they seem needed. The Rio Negro (which passed the city on its southwest side) was far below normal water levels. The picture of the city walls below shows where the river water level often reaches in the rainy season (~December to May). Last year's rainy season actually saw the river rise over the walls and flood several neighborhoods downtown. Now it was at the lowest point many had seen in their lifetimes.

After gassing up our boat at the local gas station - a floating blob of Brazilian yellow and green in the middle of the river, of course - we headed out for a two-week trip downriver. Our first stop was only a short trip downriver to where the Solimões river meets the Rio Negro, forming the Amazon. This point is one of many "Encontro das Águas" along the river, where any three different types of water systems (clear, white, black, depending on sediments, land formations, etc) converge. It looked like an oil spill at first, but I decided to jump in anyways. I took my first plunge into the Amazon right on top of the divide, and I could feel the difference in temperature almost immediately when I crossed from the light-brown water to the darker water. Really incredible.

The next 30+ hours were spent heading east down the Amazon. We stopped the next day at the Amazonias/Para state line to go for a swim off the boat. Only after jumping in did we realize the cattle ranch onshore probably didn't keep the water we swam in very clean. We passed hundreds of ranches and houses just like those below on our trip. After drying off, the boat captain let a few friends and I each take our turn at the helm. Some of the other students had never driven a boat, so they got a kick out of it. Later that night, one of the guys on the trip let some fishing line off the back of the boat to try and catch a fish. After five minutes of trolling, he caught an 18 inch catfish. Piece of cake.

The crew pressed on as we slept that night, and the next morning I woke up at 6am just in time to see the sunrise behind us as well moved up the Rio Trombetas. We saw pink dolphins for the first time that morning! Each is born pink and slowly loses its color as it matures. They're much harder to snap a photo of than dolphins back home - they dont come out as far or for as long.

After two hours heading upriver we arrived at a quilombola community consisting of the ancestors of runaway slaves. The community was really one big family: the leader (the grandfather) had 7 children, who in turn had 40+ children of their own (the grandfather wasn't sure how many grandkids he had...). They had to village centers: one for the dry season, and one for when the rainy season flooded the dry season village. They took us 4 at a time in canoes across an interior lake to the second village, where they showed us surrounding fields and forests. They had recently slashed and burned some secondary forest (forest that had regrown after being cut) and showed us around the to-be manioc field.

Afterwards, they took us into the forest where they showed us various trees and plants used to sustainably harvest forest goods. One tree's limbs could provide a human with clean drinking water (as our director demonstrated). It was actually pretty tasty. Another tree gave a remedy for headaches when its white sap was extracted and mixed with water/sugar. Other trees provided remedies for everything from other sicknesses to plugging holes in canoes.

I was really amazed with how optimistic the community seemed despite the conditions they lived in. Several of the kids seemed malnourished - rounded bellies and light-colored hair were common - and the community as a whole was severely marginalized by the government and the huge bauxite mine downriver. Unlike other communities we saw later on, they received little support through government programs or compensation from others using their land. This was primarily because they lived 'illegally' on a nature preserve, although they had lived there before the preserve was established. Yet, they were resilient. The leader said life there was only 'so-so', but the food he said was incredible as always. (Side note: during his talk I looked down and saw ants carrying a wasp right off my leg!)

That night we sailed back downriver to MRN, the world's largest bauxite mine. By itself the mine produces 1/5 of the world's bauxite a day - enough to fill one ocean liner per day. It was a really study of contrasts to what we had seen earlier that day. The same canoes we had used in the quilombola community now scurried out of the way to avoid being crushed by the incoming oceanliners waiting to dock.

The next day we visited the mine. Although they were cutting down primary forest, an environmental crisis the company caused in the '80s that caught the country's attention led to take on a huge public relations campaign. The result was a pioneering reforestation practice over the areas it finished mining. The practice continues today, with about 80 species per hectare being planted. It was really interesting to see this in comparison to mountain-top mining. It still didn't positively affect the environment, but its a lot better than what we do.

MRN itself was a really odd company. It maintained its own private town between the river and the mines. Set in the rainforest and equipped with white VW vans, it eerily reminded a lot of us of LOST. The Dharma Initiative had been here all along. Many of the policies in the town made sense, but they were really strict: one traffic violation and your future with the company is reconsidered; get in a fistfight with anyone and you're done. Off the island.

The next day we navigated up another tributary off the Amazon. Three hours later we landed at Juruti Velho, another town in another fight with a local mine and the site of our rural homestays. Under the '88 constitution, those negatively affected by others' land use practices may demand concessions. After a sit-in in 2007 it became the first town to gain concessions from a mining company under that law.
The next day we were dropped off in groups of 4 to stay with different families in rural communities that partook in the sit-in. I was placed with a husband and wife who were parents/grandparents to about half of the village's 50 inhabitants. My host dad was really quiet, but my host mom really enjoyed listening to me stumble in Portuguese.
Life here was really simple and peaceful. I shadowed my host dad for virtually my entire time there, since work was assumed to be gender-segregated in the community. I worked when he worked. I ate what he ate. Slept when he slept. Each day would start at 6am when we'd get out of our hammocks to go fish. It was really great to get out there at that time of day (the sun rose over the river in the east and set over the river in the west). It took a couple days for me to get the hang of it, but eventually I was matching my host dad fish for fish! There were all types of fish in the river, but we primarily caught these striped guys.

By around 10am we'd head through the forest to the manioc fields. (I was worried after my host dad said a relative had lost his leg to a snake on the trail once, but I later found out it didnt have to be operated on...) I don't think it even passed my host dad's mind that I'd never used a machete, because every day we'd spend an hour or two hacking at weeds in the fields or preparing fields for planting. By noon, it was too hot to work, so we'd nap, play with the puppies (only 7 days old!), domesticated parrots, frogs or sit around until it cooled off. Later, we'd fish some more or bath out in the river. Between 7 and 9pm the power was on, so we'd watch Brazilian soaps or the news. By 9 though I was always tired, so I'd drift off to my hammock.

Oddly enough, my host parents owned two homes. In the foreground is the kitchen/toolhouse/dining room was where we spent most of our time. The second building was their old home, and the third was their new home provided by the government. The second picture shows my host mom working away in the kitchen. In the background is the lake, and beneath the table were coconut trees growing with the help of leftover waste water from the kitchen.

Meals revolved around a few staples: farinha (a cream of wheat concoction from manioc), rice, beans, sugared coffee, and any fish we caught that day or fruit that was ripe. (Note the fish head soup... delicious.) The two dozen trees surrounding the community were all fruit/hardwood trees that were used regularly. The tree below was a brazil nut tree! Even though another one of the American's host dad was the local turtle conservation point man, my host mom would occasionally receive turtle eggs from friends in the community. This was more commonplace than I thought, though. She of course waited til we left that Saturday to cook them...

Salted fish? Decoration? Both?

We left that Saturday to see Election Day in Juruti, a large town on the Amazon. We did interview projects on locals in the town about the elections that day - sort of let down by how little people knew about who they voted for. It had a really nice waterfront, though.

That night we traveled down the river to Santarem, a city of around 200k overlooking the Amazon. We had the morning free to look around downtown Santarem. A really nice city. The colonial church overlooked a large plaza filled with these incredible trees. It was as if the roots had moved up the tree trunks and up the branches themselves.

Next we got on the boat to travel once more to Monte Alegre, where cave paintings point to human presence over 10k years ago. After taking an hour truck ride (yes, they had fastened seats to the beds of three trucks) through dirt roads (yes, the trees on the side of the road were stained by dust) our tour guide took out a measuring device that - surprise! - measures the radioactivity of the land around us. And guess what? It was ringing off the hook! Turns out there was a top-secret brazilian uranium mine nearby and the whole area was radioactive to a certain extent. Luckily it wasnt harmful where we were.

Eventually we got to the paintings themselves. They were spread out for miles over large plateaus overlooking the Amazon. Really incredible. Some of the caves themselves were spectacular. One, which had trees growing on top of it, had tree roots dropping over 20 meters through a cave shaft to finally root in the cave.

Who knew the Red Cross was an indigenous idea?

By the end of the day we were dirty and exhausted, so we went for a swim... with pink dolphins of course. Some of the kids got within 20 feet of one.
The next day we got back to Santarem to listen to a Catholic priest talk about his role in social justice movements in the region. Who knew soy production could be so bad? We were supposed to hear the other side of the argument from Cargill (yes, Cargill has gotten down here) but they cancelled on us at the last second. That afternoon we visited the Health and Happiness Project, which brings everything from health clinincs to wifi to rural communities by boat. Really interesting.

That evening we went back downtown. Two friends - John and Joe - and I met up with John's friends who live in the city. Turns out his friend actually works with turtle conservation for the government. Later that night we returned to the boat to get ready for the early morning trip outside the city. The project, Large Biosphere-Atmosphere Project, worked more with hard sciences to chart different long-term trends and patterns within the forest in relation to, well, the biosphere and atmosphere. The highlight of the trip was climbing the 70 meter tower (no more than 3-4 people at a time of course) to see above the forest canopy. It was really incredible, especially after I got over my fear of heights.(While waiting below for everyone else to see it I befriended a few critters too...)

The next day we visited a nearby community-led sustainable logging initiative. By taking careful measures and precautions before, during and after logging, the initiative hopes to make the extractive process sustainable within its area of usage for the long-term. I had never been shaken by any natural force as I was when this tree fell. Even if you had closed your eyes, the sound and vibration of the tree falling couldn't have been anything else. After watching to trees be felled, we headed back to Santarem, where we had the rest of the day free to explore.

The next morning we were up at 430am to catch the first flight to Belem, right in time for Cirio (by far the city's biggest holiday of the year - about 1.5 million people take to the streets every year to celebrate). Unfortunately, I was too afraid to take the camera out. Sorry folks! My host family spent most of the time at the family farm (where I rode a motorbike, sorta) , but I got to take part in one of the several processions, in which 100k's of people follow an image of the Virgin Mary through downtown for several hours. Really incredible that people could do it.