So today Eliseu and I had a great day together for my 23rd. I got up late, got a quick lunch, went over to hang out at the hostel, and then we got picked up by a guy in a Range Rover who took us to Sao Conrado. We saw a guy with a bike get arrested and taken away in a police car on the way, in Copa. Speaking of the Police they are playing at Maracana Stadium tonight with an expected 80,000 people to turn out. Everyone's been asking me if I was going to go; no offense Sting but you guys are so...last decade. They're staying at Copa Palace which has some crazy security right now, obviously. It's 230am, yes sir, so they've finished already. Here they are.
So then. We got to Sao Conrado and met the flight instructor, who soon took us in his SUV up up up into the gorgeous forest, Floresta da Tijuca, up and up and up on bumpy windy roads, until we got to the jumping spot. We got in line behind the other paragliders, and the instructor got me in my gear, showed me how to jump, and we practiced take-off. I'd like to point out he didn't figure out I was American until half-way through the training!! But then, we noticed no one was taking off, because we were literally sitting in a huge cloud. So, we waited. We watched the monkeys. We waited some more. Listened to some funny stories from the instructor guys. Waited and waited. And so it seemed we weren't going to be able to go today, because of this freakin cloud. By the way, the air up there is so clean and fresh and oxygeny it is so delicious so I didn't mind except the anticipation was killing me a little.
But suddenly--after literally about an hour of waiting--someone yelled "I can see the beach!" and all the instructors scattered and everyone started hooking up to the gliders and suddenly my heart started to explode because I realized oh ok this is going to happen. The instructor hooked me in and we were first in line literally about 60 seconds after the scattering. He told me just to run and not stop even when we hit the air and not to grab the poles. And so we did. I got a little tangled in the cables because we'd taken off so hastily and scraped the hell out of my arm, but other than that it was a completely religious experience. I think the whole flight lasted probably less than 15 minutes but it felt like 2 seconds because it was so incredible. I was worried we wouldn't be able to see anything, but after about a second of breaking through the cloud, all of the sudden, we were flying above Rio.
Flying.
Over the forests and the ocean and the ugly condos and the biggest favela in Latin America and the cars and the traffic and the violence and life as we know it. It was all there below, and all you could hear was the wind.
I was a bit of a picture fiend even though the instructor was taking pictures from a camera attached to one side of the glider, which is why I want to do it again so I can just fly. It's so exciting the first time you feel compelled to capture it somehow.
The instructor and I chatted a bit--he does up to 9 flights a day! He seems pretty thrilled by this, and apparently is a champion hang glider. He was great and made everything easier and smoother.
So I was in heaven flying over the turquoise ocean, watching the setting sun illuminate the city with this amazing, indescribable golden light, and then all the sudden we were going ridiculously fast over the sand and with a tiny swoosh, we landed. I was so sad.
Afterwards, the instructor gave me a DVD from video he had filmed of before, during and after the flight and a CD of the pictures he took. Will get them up somehow tomorrow. He was trying hard to impress Eliseu, who is now supervisor of the whole hostel and is responsible for getting these guys business. So that was cool. Then we got our ride home (another perk of the experience) and then went to our favorite churrascaria, Estrela do Sul, where we stuffed ourselves full of meat and salad bar goodness and I downed an entire baby-sized bottle of wine (you know the "half" ones) and it was just a glorious 23rd birthday. By then though I was kind of really drunk and so we came home and watched a movie and ate cake. We partied all night last night and Eli worked all day, and I was practically falling asleep so we decided not to go out. Though next weekend we definitely have to go back to Mangueira so I can record it!!
Anyway. Here are two pictures from the day. The rest you can see in my new album.
Pre flight
Rio from above: Rocinha, the Lagoon, Sugarloaf, and Serra (mountains)
Today I got to thinking about past birthdays (and much to my horror could NOT for the life of me remember what I did for it freshman year of college). I thought about how last year I spent my birthday in my college's main theater, dancing in the Nutcracker, and how the year before I spent it with all my gringo and Dominican friends at our favorite club in Santo Domingo. And then the year before that is classified. But anyway.
I realized two things. The first thing is that I have reached a point where I am becoming a Carioca -- as much as a gringa can. I've mostly conquered the language, I get around the city with ease, I'm comfortable, I'm mostly used to things as they are, and I've just adapted to the way of life here. I may not be completely 100% satisfied with everything but I have certainly reached that point of adaptation, which is usually the point when I have to leave to go home. But I'm still here.
The second thing is that living abroad is a give and take experience. Though you change, inevitably, because the place and the people and the experiences leave an indelible imprint on your being, you also change things around you, if you're lucky. You too, leave a little bit of yourself in a place, be it making a good friend or doing a community service project or teaching or whatever it may be. You always leave a part of yourself in a place, and usually a little bit of your heart, as cliche as that may sound. Last night dancing at the Latin club I realized that no matter where I go and no matter what places I discover the DR will always have a huge place in my soul. And the music, for that matter, since I don't get that big a kick out of dancing to regular samba. And I miss Spanish, I really do, and last night I was chatting with an Argentine and a Spaniard and it was really good to a) practice and b) assure myself I haven't completely forgotten how to speak without completely mixing Portuguese in. I think that I've made an imprint here so far, but I'm not sure exactly what imprint Brazil has had on me, quite yet.
Good morning.
Happy, happy belated birthday. Sounds like you had a wonderful, beautiful day. And we all thought of you and wished you the best and many more to come.
Miss you lots,
Lenore
Posted by: lenore glickhouse | December 10, 2007 at 09:56 AM
As to living in Brazil, the key is to take the language skill acquired and the cross-cultural understandings and leverage them into something that feels right to you.
If you were here, you would have the usual frenzy up to Dec. 25th, primary articles that really no longer report very much new, and someone knocking over the Walgreen's on a quiet Saturday afternoon in lower Tarrytown. My guess is that the robber was so brazen he'll never be found. It appears a robbery was the last thing anyone expected there. In my mind, I wondered why no one had thought of it sooner. Next time you go there for essentials, keep your hands out and look innocent. Paronoia tends to take a grip after such events.
Posted by: david | December 10, 2007 at 03:10 PM