Like most cities we have visited, we furtively arrived to Salvador by night, greeted by more rain clouds. As we got off the bus a strange feeling of finality and nostalgia come over us. This was it, our last stop. Still wet from the torrential downpour that hit us on the way to the bus station the night before, we collected our things and set out to find housing and a place to meet up with Derek. Unfortunately the rain persisted and our clothes stayed wet until the following day.
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| Acarajé da Dinha. Acarajé served by Bahian women. |
That first day Justin and I were left to our own devices. Although three weeks in a county is hardly enough to learn any language, we found that we were more or less able to get by, at least together. We made arrangements to stay at a hostel in the Barra district, one of the nicer parts of town that lay just a few blocks from the beach. Having picked a location we notified Derek, who would arrive the following day. Though slightly marred by the shadow of ominous rain clouds brooding high above we spent the day getting to know Brazil's once majestic capital, trying to tap into the spirit of the place by aimlessly wandering its streets. We ate breakfast at a statue of christ we found overlooking the bay, visited a lighthouse that was constructed in the 1500's and sought out the most "local" places to eat. One little hole in the wall, Acarajé da Dinha, came highly recommended by everyone we talked to and is known for serving the best Acarajé in all of Salvador. A typical dish of the Bahia, Acarajé is a delicious blend of African and American spices that is added to shrimp and a deep fried bean-bun. It has also become somewhat of an icon of Salvador's African heritage, almost always served by black women dressed in traditional clothing. We ate acarajé nearly every meal, until I got food poisoning, once again.
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| The main altar of the Igreja de Sao Francisco |
The next morning Derek met up with as our hostel. We were glad to see him again, and even more elated that no one would have to be traveling alone. Having lived in Salvador previously, he played tour guide for the rest of the day. Our first stop was the Pelorinho district, home to one of the most famed churches in the Americas. The Igreja de Sao Francisco, built in the 17th century, stands as a symbol of the pomp and grandeur of the Roman Catholic Church in the colonial era. We were amazed at what we saw. Nearly every inch of the whole cathedral is plated with 24k gold. After a while we ran out of adjectives to describe the scene and just settled on 'crazy.' I found myself slightly pensive once again, putting myself in the shoes of a typical citizen of Salvador when the church was in its prime. I wondered what the Indians, whose homelands had been stripped from them by foreign invaders, thought of this strange new religion that professed piety yet built idols of gold. Or if the Africans slaves, who had only known abject poverty, resented the gaudy amount of wealth poured into a sanctuary they would likely never see.
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| Justin marvels at the intricate gold molding of the cathedral's walls |
We finished off the day taking in more sights, breathing in more ocean air and sweating through our last pair of clean clothes as we trudged through dreadful humidity. That evening we saw another samba band but wisely decided that we would hold off on dancing this time around.
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| The beach on our last day. |
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| Clara and her family |
Our last full day in Salvador was relaxing. All of us were tired from traveling and in many ways ready to go home. We killed most of the day at a beach just dear downtown. For lunch we met up with a friend of my sister, Clara Balthazar, and her family for lunch. Like nearly everyone we have met, they were terrific and opened up their doors for us whole-heartedly. We ate our last home cooked meal of the trip with Clara and her family. Since she had gone to high school for a year in the US we were eager to hear how she thought the United States compared to Brazil and discussed at length her experience in Ohio. No doubt, she found the little Ohio suburb I call home to be very different from her urban lifestyle in tropical Brazil. She said that she found the US to be very organized and efficient. However, she expressed frustration that sometimes it was 'too organized' and even restrictive. She also missed how affectionate people were in her home country, where people greet one another with kisses. We identified with what she said, but perhaps from the other end of the spectrum. We sure felt awkward every time a stranger came up to kiss our cheek!
We spent our last evening in Brazil at the lighthouse once again, watching the sun set both on the day and our trip. Tomorrow we fly home!
-Porter
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| We enjoyed catching a street football game on our way home on night. |
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| Salvador's famous city elevator. |
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| Cool art behind a fruit stand. |
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| The presence of Catholicism is everywhere. Brazil is home to more Catholics than any other nation in the world. |
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| The sun setting over the Bay of Todos os Santos |
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| We caught a 'cool' jazz show our last night in town. There are even hipsters in Brazil... |
The next morning Derek met up with as our hostel. We were glad to see him again, and even more elated that no one would have to be traveling alone. Having lived in Salvador previously, he played tour guide for the rest of the day. Our first stop was the Pelorinho district, home to one of the most famed churches in the Americas. The Igreja de Sao Francisco, built in the 17th century, stands as a symbol of the pomp and grandeur of the Roman Catholic Church in the colonial era. We were amazed at what we saw. Nearly every inch of the whole cathedral is plated with 24k gold. After a while we ran out of adjectives to describe the scene and just settled on 'crazy.' I found myself slightly pensive once again, putting myself in the shoes of a typical citizen of Salvador when the church was in its prime. I wondered what the Indians, whose homelands had been stripped from them by foreign invaders, thought of this strange new religion that professed piety yet built idols of gold. Or if the Africans slaves, who had only known abject poverty, resented the gaudy amount of wealth poured into a sanctuary they would likely never see.
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