Praia de Calhetas

For my kids' winter break I got it into my head that I would pick a new beach to visit per week. Today's choice was Praia de Calhetas, a teeny beach one hour south of the city. The reviews on Trip Advisor rave about its quaintness and beauty. They are right on both accounts: the boat scattered cove and beach is only about 100 yards long and is surrounded by thick tropical forest. I also read that the drive "might be tricky" which of course was a complete understatement. The pavement turned to cobble; the cobble turned to a mess of dried splattered cement, rocks and mud- all on a steep grade with roosters and dogs running around. 

I figured the drive would be worth it all to escape the massive rains and floods Recife's dealt with these past few days. For the most part it was- even when a storm rolled in with rain so heavy, our exit became impassable with muddy water runoff overflowing the stairs.  Of course Deets and Margo delighted in the rain, climbing rocks and hiding under tables while I tried not to have visions of our car falling through the earth above us.  In the end, we fought waves, ate piping hot fries,  and checked another beach off the list. I only have 1,000 more to go.

View from the top of Praia de Calhetas. 

Playing King of the Insanely Prickly Rocks game.

View end to end.

The entire path was drowning  in fast flowing water up to the tree trunks.
Until it wasn't-  like it never even happened.

Festa Junina

Festa Junina in Caruaru. Credits: Camocim VIP News.

Perhaps less well-known than Carnaval, but definitely just as important, northeastern Brazil's Festa Junina marks a day (more like weeks) of parties integrating traditions from Brazil, Europe, and Africa involving a mash-up of saints- Johnny, Petey, Paulie and Tony. It's also a day of honoring the end of the rainy season and the sanctity of marriage. Throw in a little bit of country square dancing called quadrila, costumes, and a whole mess of music, food and drink, and you've got the makings of bewildering yet meaningful traditions. Recife alone will host 200 parties, shows and concerts around the city wheras 2 hours inland the city of Caruaru, the capital of Forro, hosts the biggest Festa Junina party in the world.

I say bewildering because every single decoration and costume blasts with color and design. Multicolored flags and plastic lanterns cover the ceilings. There are so many pictures of saints and icons that it gives an Orthodox church a run for its money. Ladies sport loud dresses all pinned with ribbons, pom-poms or miniature dolls. Even the mock bride, who represents matrimony and re-birth wears a white dress with neon pieces of flair. Men might wear plaid button downs with tattered pants and straw hats. Others might wear gaucho costumes or bandit outfits from the sertão or backwoods of NE Brazil. Those without naturally large freckles, gap teeth or pencil thin mustaches- are drawn on. 

Mercado Sao Jose- HQ for... everything. 

A whole ton of lace and polyester. 

Decorative lanterns. 

The music and dance, called Forró is just as colorful, sounding like a mix of salsa, country, polka, mariachi and blues. It's heavy on the accordion, acoustic guitar and triangle with catchy syncopated rhythms and tells stories of homesickness, love (lost or found), passion, or jealousy.

Then there's the food. I have never seen so many things made out of corn before: bread, cake, porridge; popcorn, couscous, and cookies. Only Brazilians call them broa, bolo de milho, canjica; pipoca, cuzcous, and aberém. Corn on the cob, meat on a stick, soups in a pumpkin. At Festa Junina, you go big or go home- eating is mandatory fun. It was here where I discovered my daughter's love of farofa covered steak (toasted cassava root)  and Deets enjoying corn flower based cookies.  

Of course, the kid's school spent a large amount of energy organizing and executing their own Festa Junina. Normally my son keeps a low profile and doesn't like mass group performances. Believe it or not, he embraced the loud music and cheering fans as his class took the floor to dance. He's also repeatedly asked to wear a mustache. Margo wanted to sleep in her dress and asks me every day to wear batom- Portuguese for lipstick. I think Brazilian indoctrination is working. For me too because I am just starting to understand the love and respect this country has for the classics. On the surface these celebrations seem over the top, but Brazil has a unique way of embracing its heritage- and I certainly could use more of that. 

 

Boys getting ready for their guitar solos.

Buying in Bulk at Ceasa

Did I ever tell you about my neighbor who brought me 40 star fruits and 20 pounds of caja? Or the time she handed over about 50 bananas and 16 mangoes? Well today she took me to the same market she bought them from: Ceasa.  While many tourists and locals delight in the brightly painted walls of Mercado Sao Jose or Boa Viagem, with piles of beautiful foods, crafts and art, the market of Ceasa looks more like the ugly step sister. Its worn and rusty warehouses stand covered with ripped canvases flapping in thew wind;  gritty trucks and matching drivers roll over potholed asphalt and mud to unload thousands of pallets daily. It's definitely big and definitely ugly, but functions surprisingly well as headquarters for food sale and distribution coming into the state of Pernambuco. 

Perhaps what is most interesting is that many warehouses contain several companies selling a single product. We visited the orange warehouse, the pineapple warehouse, the onion warehouse... bananas, potatoes, and coconuts.  It was a lesson in bulk buying, something I feel I should excel at as a card carrying member to Costco. I thought was I able to keep up with my neighbor as I bought 4 pineapples for 5 about $1.50 (USD).  She deftly purchased 50 pineapples for $10.  She picked up 200 oranges for $7.60 and a whole smear of other things at jaw dropping prices. Then she introduced me to one of her cousins who owns a banana company and I ended up with 10 bunches. Along with four packs of grapes and 5 mangoes. It was delightful and a little bit of crazy. I was getting all sorts of revved up to buy! buy! buy! Then I realized I'd be the one washing all the stuff once I got home- maybe I didn't really need 75 pounds of potatoes.

This stall cleverly named "Swimming in Oranges"

Fresh coconut.

Bushels of green stuff..

Banana warehouse.

33 pounds of margarine for $21

Potato warehouse

Pineapple warehouse. 

Fitting it all into the Fiat.

Now deciding where to put it.