Tuesday, November 18, 2008

I shall start with this weekend

Yesterday, being Saturday and what we like to refer to as a weekend, a fellow volunteer and I decided to make the two and a half hour trek to town.
Rosaria da Limeira is the name of said town and at 13 kilometers distance it is the closest thing to us that even closely resembles civilization, however faintly.
I awoke that morning at 8:30, and upon looking out the window, found the day to be extremely fair, which, after an entire week of nothing but rain was quite encouraging. And, feeling not a little proud of myself for managing to get out of bed before 9, especially on a weekend, I started down the hill to the kitchen expecting to be one of the first people up (except, of course, for my 63 year old house mate who rises and falls with the sun).
I didn't even make it a quarter of the way down before running into my soon to be walking companion, who I will henceforth refer to as Evan, that being his name. Evan was presumably on his way up to my house to wake me, because upon meeting him he tuned around and accompanied me the rest of the way to the kitchen. He expressed a desire to leave for town as soon as possible, as there was no telling how long the nice weather was going to hold out. I agreed with this. Experience as well as common sense tells me that in the rain forest during rainy season it tends to rain, a lot, especially in the afternoon. I was also in a bit of a time crunch, as I had promised to go to a meeting of local farmers which started at 2 pm. I communicated this to Evan. "We can get a ride back, there will be plenty of time" was his matter of fact response and it was agreed upon to leave presently. As no one else in our little group seemed at all inlined to join in on the arduous trip, the two of us set out alone.
The sun was brilliant and the mountain roads steep, the combination of which was brutal. En rout, I tried to imagine that I was on a great journey for a noble cause when really I was only curious about life in my new village and desperate for a diet coke. But, even as sweat soaked through my shirt and the sun burnt my shoulders there was no way to overlook the absolutely breathtaking beauty of our surroundings (picture to follow).
After what felt like decades, but was really just under 3 hours, we turned a bend and saw in front of us collection of colorful cement buildings nestled between the hills. "There is is" Evan pointed out, in the same matter of fact tone I had become familiar with, as he seemed to rely on it for all necessary speech. "Praise be!!" I responded, in tone that was considerably more animated and, I felt, more appropriate to the occasion.
We quickened the pace in this final stretch and before long found ourselves weaving between the beat-up Volkswagens, scraggly dogs and busy pedestrians that lined the narrow roads to the soundtrack of a variety of local radio stations that blasted out of almost every window.
Coming to the main square at last, we rushed into the corner bar to rehydrate ourselves before getting on with the necessary purchases we had come so far to make. Mine, being just a diet coke, did not take long. So, I followed Evan around as he visited a few more stores and after that is was time to turn around and go back.
I may have been inclined to hang around a little longer in order to take in a bit of local culture, but, the farmers meeting called and we set off in search of a ride back.
All together an exhilarating start to the weekend.


robert said...

Kri! Woo!

Werd said...

Kri is living proof that the tubes are everywhere!

Also, judging by her speech patterns, she was transported to a Charlotte...no, Emily Bronte novel?

Also also, Kri always makes these posts about the beginning of a weekend, or beginning of a trip, and never finishes them. Finish, Kri!!

robert said...

from the wikipedia articule about Emily Bronte

"Emily Brontë is popularly regarded as the epitome of the talented writer who died after a short blaze of genius, more so than either of her sisters"

...i cant stop laughing

kritaliation said...

I prefer to think of the post as more PG wodehouse than a Bronte sister work.

KDHL said...


Loganberry Crumble said...

Monday and Sunday do not exist in Brazil.