Monday, January 28, 2008
Falling in Love with Culture Shock, Brazil 2006.
Shock can be an incredibly positive experience. Sure, it runs the risk of hurting you mentally, if not physically, especially if the shock is completely unexpected, but it can also be a true awakening. Shock can be the moment that provides the jolt out of your rut, and open up a perspective not previously seen. When it comes to Culture Shock, with an open mind it helps you respect and appreciate new locales and people more, or at the very least provide you with a newfound appreciation for the way of life that you currently enjoy.
Case in point, it's mid morning in Brazil. Bleary eyed, I stumble off a Delta jet, on my own looking to find my way to Rio de Janeiro. In a country that I've never before seen, and with a language completely foreign to me, Culture Shock hit me hard, strong and in a way before that I've never felt. Riding through the giant metropolis that is so dangerous to the well off that the rich use helicopters instead of cars to avoid kidnapping, it was hard not to feel intimidated as the hundreds of thousands of tin shacks sprawl out to either side of me. In a city that looked both decayed and somewhat attractive in its seeming lawlessness, I sat in relative comfort on a motorcoach filled with mostly Brazilians traveling the same route. The disparity wasn't lost on me, and I felt more than my share of guilt as we sped down the road, with a backpack in the bowels of the bus worth more than a lot of the riders probably made in a week or more.
As I fought off sleep, to catch my first views of South America, I ended up wandering through a truck stop to grab some lunch. My complete inability to communicate at this point making even the simplest meal a chore to grab. Even "Thank You" seemed impossible to say, but slowly, over the bread and meat, I started to grab my bearings. I started to notice the differences and similarities. I started to find my rhythm on the road. I started to love the country I found thanks to a week's vacation and a sale on airfare. I felt hopelessly lost and at the same time endlessly grateful. There was so much to see, so much to learn, so much to do. And as I stuffed the last of the greasy sandwich in my mouth, I was ready to do that. Just as soon as I figured out how to find the restroom.
This post was inspired by a book review, I read at Knife Tricks this week.
Case in point, it's mid morning in Brazil. Bleary eyed, I stumble off a Delta jet, on my own looking to find my way to Rio de Janeiro. In a country that I've never before seen, and with a language completely foreign to me, Culture Shock hit me hard, strong and in a way before that I've never felt. Riding through the giant metropolis that is so dangerous to the well off that the rich use helicopters instead of cars to avoid kidnapping, it was hard not to feel intimidated as the hundreds of thousands of tin shacks sprawl out to either side of me. In a city that looked both decayed and somewhat attractive in its seeming lawlessness, I sat in relative comfort on a motorcoach filled with mostly Brazilians traveling the same route. The disparity wasn't lost on me, and I felt more than my share of guilt as we sped down the road, with a backpack in the bowels of the bus worth more than a lot of the riders probably made in a week or more.
As I fought off sleep, to catch my first views of South America, I ended up wandering through a truck stop to grab some lunch. My complete inability to communicate at this point making even the simplest meal a chore to grab. Even "Thank You" seemed impossible to say, but slowly, over the bread and meat, I started to grab my bearings. I started to notice the differences and similarities. I started to find my rhythm on the road. I started to love the country I found thanks to a week's vacation and a sale on airfare. I felt hopelessly lost and at the same time endlessly grateful. There was so much to see, so much to learn, so much to do. And as I stuffed the last of the greasy sandwich in my mouth, I was ready to do that. Just as soon as I figured out how to find the restroom.
This post was inspired by a book review, I read at Knife Tricks this week.
Labels: brazil, culture shock, travel
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Four Crazy Nights: Unexpected Overnight Accommodations
You might be the same way. Love traveling, hate spending money to make it happen. Over the last few years, I've found a lot of different places to catch some shut-eye. Some amazing, some just amazingly bad. Nonetheless, I wouldn't trade these experiences for anything. Except maybe the Larouche cult trying to convert me to their style of politics. But even that was kinda fun, in a Jim Jones without the Kool-Aid kind of way. Anyway, here are some of the crazier, not so savory spots I've slept over the past few years.
1. The Tent - Munich, Germany
Is there anything better than a place to crash, hundreds of like minded travelers, and breakfast in the morning for eight dollars a night? If there is, I haven't found it yet. I spent three wonderful nights there in 2003, near the end of their season. The stay was pretty incredible. Meeting up with a lot of broke American backpackers, and a lot of Germans there for various reasons - including a few on business! The place sleeps about 300, all on the floor. They provide bedding, but bring your own sleeping bag. The bedding I got consisted of a foam pad, and four not-so-clean blankets. Including one with gum stuck to it. But when the beer is cheap, who cares where you sleep?
During my stay, I got attacked by Larouchites. Lyndon Larouche, political crackpot of the US, apparently has a political party in Germany and these people were staying there to campaign for their local slate of candidates in the Bavarian elections at the time. Larouchites from all over Europe came down to the Tent to headquarter a big weekend of campaigning. Problem was, none of them knew who the local candidates were. Their campaign consisted of protesting the US Presidency. Somehow this was going to get them votes, for local candidates.... in Germany. By the second night of inculcation, it got annoying, but the free beers I scored were pretty sweet - so I'd call it a wash.
This year the season opens June 15, and goes through early October. Rates for a spot on the floor of the big tent are Euro 7.50 a night. Click here to visit The Tent.
2. Amtrak
Need a cheap way to get across the country? And do you have a few days to kill? Than America's attempt at passenger train service is the right fit for you. Travel from Chicago to New York in a break-neck time of just 27 hours! That's only 15 hours longer than driving!
Seriously, though, when you catch sale fares, you can literally get from Chicago to New York for about 10 dollars sometimes. It's definitely an option for the budget conscious. Nights in the coach car, however, leave something to be desired. Seats are comfortable, but I always had the feeling I was one step away from being in a knife fight. Something there didn't feel entirely safe. And the feeling wasn't helped by when I woke up to find someone rifling through my bags directly over my head.
3. Botafogo Easy Hostel - Rio de Janiero, Brazil
There are few places I've found more relaxing than the Botafogo Easy Hostel. The name pretty much says it all. And it seems unique from other hostels in Latin America in that the vast majority of people there are actually from all over. So many of the travelers that were there said that in months, this was the first real international hostel they'd stayed at.
In some ways, the place felt like Cheers. There was a little bit of everything there. Cute Gay Brazilians, Drunk Canadians, Homeless French guys, Hot Belgian Women. Well, maybe not quite like Cheers - but close enough. It was a comfortable place to stay and there always seemed to be someone to talk to and pal around with. I don't think my visit to Rio would have been nearly as enjoyable anywhere else.
Check out cheap, comfortable digs here.
4. Den Roda Baten - Stockholm, Sweden
What better way to see the islands that make up Stockholm then by staying on a boat? Well it turns out, many. I was sick when I stayed there. Unfriendly staff. A Samoan guy picking pockets of the Japanese tourists in my room, bathroom sinks that didn't work and showers without hot water. All for 25 dollars a night! This makes my "Crazy Nights" list only because it was, without a doubt, the single worst hostel experience I've had. People find this place kind of hot and cold though. Some love it, some hate it... and some get bedbugs.
You might be the same way. Love traveling, hate spending money to make it happen. Over the last few years, I've found a lot of different places to catch some shut-eye. Some amazing, some just amazingly bad. Nonetheless, I wouldn't trade these experiences for anything. Except maybe the Larouche cult trying to convert me to their style of politics. But even that was kinda fun, in a Jim Jones without the Kool-Aid kind of way. Anyway, here are some of the crazier, not so savory spots I've slept over the past few years.
1. The Tent - Munich, Germany
Is there anything better than a place to crash, hundreds of like minded travelers, and breakfast in the morning for eight dollars a night? If there is, I haven't found it yet. I spent three wonderful nights there in 2003, near the end of their season. The stay was pretty incredible. Meeting up with a lot of broke American backpackers, and a lot of Germans there for various reasons - including a few on business! The place sleeps about 300, all on the floor. They provide bedding, but bring your own sleeping bag. The bedding I got consisted of a foam pad, and four not-so-clean blankets. Including one with gum stuck to it. But when the beer is cheap, who cares where you sleep?
During my stay, I got attacked by Larouchites. Lyndon Larouche, political crackpot of the US, apparently has a political party in Germany and these people were staying there to campaign for their local slate of candidates in the Bavarian elections at the time. Larouchites from all over Europe came down to the Tent to headquarter a big weekend of campaigning. Problem was, none of them knew who the local candidates were. Their campaign consisted of protesting the US Presidency. Somehow this was going to get them votes, for local candidates.... in Germany. By the second night of inculcation, it got annoying, but the free beers I scored were pretty sweet - so I'd call it a wash.
This year the season opens June 15, and goes through early October. Rates for a spot on the floor of the big tent are Euro 7.50 a night. Click here to visit The Tent.
2. Amtrak
Need a cheap way to get across the country? And do you have a few days to kill? Than America's attempt at passenger train service is the right fit for you. Travel from Chicago to New York in a break-neck time of just 27 hours! That's only 15 hours longer than driving!
Seriously, though, when you catch sale fares, you can literally get from Chicago to New York for about 10 dollars sometimes. It's definitely an option for the budget conscious. Nights in the coach car, however, leave something to be desired. Seats are comfortable, but I always had the feeling I was one step away from being in a knife fight. Something there didn't feel entirely safe. And the feeling wasn't helped by when I woke up to find someone rifling through my bags directly over my head.
3. Botafogo Easy Hostel - Rio de Janiero, Brazil
There are few places I've found more relaxing than the Botafogo Easy Hostel. The name pretty much says it all. And it seems unique from other hostels in Latin America in that the vast majority of people there are actually from all over. So many of the travelers that were there said that in months, this was the first real international hostel they'd stayed at.
In some ways, the place felt like Cheers. There was a little bit of everything there. Cute Gay Brazilians, Drunk Canadians, Homeless French guys, Hot Belgian Women. Well, maybe not quite like Cheers - but close enough. It was a comfortable place to stay and there always seemed to be someone to talk to and pal around with. I don't think my visit to Rio would have been nearly as enjoyable anywhere else.
Check out cheap, comfortable digs here.
4. Den Roda Baten - Stockholm, Sweden
What better way to see the islands that make up Stockholm then by staying on a boat? Well it turns out, many. I was sick when I stayed there. Unfriendly staff. A Samoan guy picking pockets of the Japanese tourists in my room, bathroom sinks that didn't work and showers without hot water. All for 25 dollars a night! This makes my "Crazy Nights" list only because it was, without a doubt, the single worst hostel experience I've had. People find this place kind of hot and cold though. Some love it, some hate it... and some get bedbugs.
Labels: amtrak, brazil, germany, hostels, munich, rio de janeiro, stockholm, sweden, travel
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Flashback: Brazil, July 28 2006
The following is an excerpt from my private journal about my trip to Rio in July of 2006. This was the day that we made it to Corcovado, but what I noticed reading this over a second time was how much emphasis I placed personally on the people I was with. With one or two exceptions, I've never heard from any of these people again. At the time it felt like I'd made friends for life... but that's what happens when you travel.
Some days I feel like I've done nothing, today I
Hector works at Trader Joe's in LA and is a real nice guy, he's traveling for two weeks - doing a few days in Rio, Iguacu Falls and then Buenos Aires. Emerson works for the Brazilian government. He works with projects that the federal and state governments are doing in conjunction with international organizations. He grew up in Brasilia so this is part work, part fun for him.
We finally got rolling out of here at about 11:30. About two hours after the plan. One of the things about being in a hostel is that when you find people to gang around with, it can take a while to get us all ready to do the same thing. Once we finally got out and ready to go, we took a bus to Corcovado and instead of the tram, the five of us split with a private driver. He took us to a couple lookout spots on the way up. (Corcovado is in an urban forest - a remnant of the rain forest that was around Rio years ago and some of which is still there to the north and south of the city). The views were stunning, you could see everything and the planes which were landing in the local airport (jet planes, mind you) are just about at eye level. It's a little nuts. After we got to the base of Corcovado, you have two options. Stairs (which give you more opportunity to pay ridiculously expensive prices for crappy souvenirs) or the elevator. I was all about the stairs, all about the new, slightly more aerodynamic, slightly less sloth-filled and gluttonous me. About half way up the stairs, I changed my mind, but it was too late to stop. Before long, I was at the top, with the same view that Jesus has.
Corcovado is the name of the mountain that Christ the Redeemer sits on. It was named it for the shape of the mountain, described as a hunch back. Atop the mountain is the statue, the largest art deco sculpture in the world. It really is a wonder and was built in 1931. One thing you notice from being that high is the smog. Rio is a city of ten million people who are letting a lot of crap in the air and the haze was so bad that the entire north end of the city was barely visible from the top of Corcovado. The south side was somewhat prettier. The water over the ocean helped to clear some of it off.
Rio never has many smog free days, but that's because its tropical, literally. It lies just north of the Tropic of Capricorn which means even winter days like today see highs in the mid 90's, like today. But I'm used to the heat now and it doesn't bother me much at all. But without cooler winters, the air is always hazy. Seems the colder the weather, the less crap you actually see in the air.
Our driver was very nice and on the way down offered to drive us through the Favela that he lives in. It's a pretty safe favela, or slum, but safe is a relative term. We didn't get out of the car, we didn't go there at night and I didn't dare pull out the camera. I just didn't want to lose it. The Favelas by and large in Rio (at least as the story goes) are kind of self-policed. Violently. And crime to people outside of the Favelas is just accepted as so. The biggest, baddest one of them all is Rocinha, which we did NOT go through. A couple of people in our hostel tried to go themselves, without a tour. They lasted two minutes there and came back to the hostel, not just lighter their wallets but their shoes and socks too.
Rio is not the safest place on earth, but usually you're OK as long as you're careful and not stupid. Walking into a favela unaccompanied is stupid.
After Corcovado, it was a quick ride back to the hostel for a couple minutes and then off to Ipanema for another afternoon at the beach. I tried to swim. The surf is high on Ipanema - and I found myself being turned literally underwater as the 7 foot waves knocked me around like a rag doll. It was both exhilarating and scary. Complete lack of control and you just pray to be alright in the end (but still a lot of fun) It's sort of like a bus ride in Rio.
Afterwords we saw the bar that Antonio Carlos Jobim and Stan Getz wrote The Girl from Ipanema. The bar is still open, now renamed The Girl from Ipanema Bar. We didn't get anything, but the bar across the street was having a Bossa Nova show today. I was all about the show and Emerson and I went after we hung out for live Samba music from two local Rio guitarists. Great music from two guys whose name I cant remember [ feel like I've done a lot. Our gang about Rio is facing some changes in staffing. Gone is Evelyn. Olivia did her own thing today - mostly the beach. Maria and Matthew and I were joined with two new people. Hector, from LA, and Emerson, from Brasilia, the country's capital.It was Antonio Carlos & Jocafi]. But it was wonderful and a great end to another day in Rio. I can't believe I really only have two days left on my vacation. Gotta make the most of it.
The following is an excerpt from my private journal about my trip to Rio in July of 2006. This was the day that we made it to Corcovado, but what I noticed reading this over a second time was how much emphasis I placed personally on the people I was with. With one or two exceptions, I've never heard from any of these people again. At the time it felt like I'd made friends for life... but that's what happens when you travel.
Some days I feel like I've done nothing, today I
Hector works at Trader Joe's in LA and is a real nice guy, he's traveling for two weeks - doing a few days in Rio, Iguacu Falls and then Buenos Aires. Emerson works for the Brazilian government. He works with projects that the federal and state governments are doing in conjunction with international organizations. He grew up in Brasilia so this is part work, part fun for him.
We finally got rolling out of here at about 11:30. About two hours after the plan. One of the things about being in a hostel is that when you find people to gang around with, it can take a while to get us all ready to do the same thing. Once we finally got out and ready to go, we took a bus to Corcovado and instead of the tram, the five of us split with a private driver. He took us to a couple lookout spots on the way up. (Corcovado is in an urban forest - a remnant of the rain forest that was around Rio years ago and some of which is still there to the north and south of the city). The views were stunning, you could see everything and the planes which were landing in the local airport (jet planes, mind you) are just about at eye level. It's a little nuts. After we got to the base of Corcovado, you have two options. Stairs (which give you more opportunity to pay ridiculously expensive prices for crappy souvenirs) or the elevator. I was all about the stairs, all about the new, slightly more aerodynamic, slightly less sloth-filled and gluttonous me. About half way up the stairs, I changed my mind, but it was too late to stop. Before long, I was at the top, with the same view that Jesus has.
Corcovado is the name of the mountain that Christ the Redeemer sits on. It was named it for the shape of the mountain, described as a hunch back. Atop the mountain is the statue, the largest art deco sculpture in the world. It really is a wonder and was built in 1931. One thing you notice from being that high is the smog. Rio is a city of ten million people who are letting a lot of crap in the air and the haze was so bad that the entire north end of the city was barely visible from the top of Corcovado. The south side was somewhat prettier. The water over the ocean helped to clear some of it off.
Rio never has many smog free days, but that's because its tropical, literally. It lies just north of the Tropic of Capricorn which means even winter days like today see highs in the mid 90's, like today. But I'm used to the heat now and it doesn't bother me much at all. But without cooler winters, the air is always hazy. Seems the colder the weather, the less crap you actually see in the air.
Our driver was very nice and on the way down offered to drive us through the Favela that he lives in. It's a pretty safe favela, or slum, but safe is a relative term. We didn't get out of the car, we didn't go there at night and I didn't dare pull out the camera. I just didn't want to lose it. The Favelas by and large in Rio (at least as the story goes) are kind of self-policed. Violently. And crime to people outside of the Favelas is just accepted as so. The biggest, baddest one of them all is Rocinha, which we did NOT go through. A couple of people in our hostel tried to go themselves, without a tour. They lasted two minutes there and came back to the hostel, not just lighter their wallets but their shoes and socks too.
Rio is not the safest place on earth, but usually you're OK as long as you're careful and not stupid. Walking into a favela unaccompanied is stupid.
After Corcovado, it was a quick ride back to the hostel for a couple minutes and then off to Ipanema for another afternoon at the beach. I tried to swim. The surf is high on Ipanema - and I found myself being turned literally underwater as the 7 foot waves knocked me around like a rag doll. It was both exhilarating and scary. Complete lack of control and you just pray to be alright in the end (but still a lot of fun) It's sort of like a bus ride in Rio.
Afterwords we saw the bar that Antonio Carlos Jobim and Stan Getz wrote The Girl from Ipanema. The bar is still open, now renamed The Girl from Ipanema Bar. We didn't get anything, but the bar across the street was having a Bossa Nova show today. I was all about the show and Emerson and I went after we hung out for live Samba music from two local Rio guitarists. Great music from two guys whose name I cant remember [ feel like I've done a lot. Our gang about Rio is facing some changes in staffing. Gone is Evelyn. Olivia did her own thing today - mostly the beach. Maria and Matthew and I were joined with two new people. Hector, from LA, and Emerson, from Brasilia, the country's capital.It was Antonio Carlos & Jocafi]. But it was wonderful and a great end to another day in Rio. I can't believe I really only have two days left on my vacation. Gotta make the most of it.
Labels: antonio carlos and jocafi, bossa nova, brazil, corcovado, flashback, friends, rio, travel
Monday, May 14, 2007
Picture of the Week: Rio de Janeiro
"Quiet nights of quiet stars, quiet chords from my guitar
Floating in the silence that surrounds us
Quiet thoughts and quiet dreams, quiet walks by quiet streams, and a window
looking on the mountains and the sea.
How lovely! this is where i want to be.
Here, with you so close to me, untill the final flicker of lifes ember.
I who was lost and lonely, believing life was only
A bitter tragic joke, have found with you
The meaning of existence oh, my love. "
-Tom Jobim "Corcovado"
July 2006 - Standing behind Corcovado. Rio de Janiero, Brazil
I never understood how imposing this 100 foot soapstone statue really is until I got to Brazil. You look up and you see Jesus. No matter where you go in the city. No matter where you go.
"Quiet nights of quiet stars, quiet chords from my guitar
Floating in the silence that surrounds us
Quiet thoughts and quiet dreams, quiet walks by quiet streams, and a window
looking on the mountains and the sea.
How lovely! this is where i want to be.
Here, with you so close to me, untill the final flicker of lifes ember.
I who was lost and lonely, believing life was only
A bitter tragic joke, have found with you
The meaning of existence oh, my love. "
-Tom Jobim "Corcovado"
July 2006 - Standing behind Corcovado. Rio de Janiero, Brazil
I never understood how imposing this 100 foot soapstone statue really is until I got to Brazil. You look up and you see Jesus. No matter where you go in the city. No matter where you go.
Labels: brazil, music, photo of the week, travel
