Gravata and Hotel Fazenda

The photo we wanted to take of Serra das Russas but didn't get a chance. 

If there's ever a need to escape the relentless sound of crashing ocean waves, indignant drivers, and city noise, a drive into the interior will fill it. About a 1.5 hour drive west along Route 232 brings you into the quiet hilly stretch of Serra das Russas (the Russian Hills.) Farms and tiny city municipalities dot the verdant landscape, while roadside vendors linger on the 232 selling sacks of oranges, strawberries and other locally grown produce. A drive to the town of Gravatá generally means 2 things: you're either passing through to see Passion of the Christ at the Nova Jerusalem Theatre during Lent along with hundreds of thousands of people,  or-- you made a reservation at one of the "hotel fazendas" or farm/resort/hotel for the weekend. Either way, fresh air and cooler weather make a great combination for trying something new. 

It totally felt cliche and totally weird when we checked into the confines of our "all inclusive" resort, Portal de Gravatá: rolling manicured lawns, rows of loungers, pools, playgrounds, and eager, yellow shirted recreation staff who lined the day with activities. All weekend long the staff enthusiastically offered fishing, horseback riding, games, crafts, movies with popcorn, karaoke, even mechanical bull riding- a never ending summer camp. Meals (not drinks) were included in the price, so three times a day we marched into the great spread of cafeteria style Brazilian food: starch, meat, fruit. Repeat.

One really cool aspect about the resort is their sustainability program. Portal Fazenda uses low energy lighting, and they recycle- a big commitment considering everyone drinks bottled water and there's an ongoing love affair with soda drinking in Brazil. Gardeners save all the pruned foliage and leaves which are mixed with the ready supply of cow poo to make fertilizer. Although I didn't see any pigs, the recreation staff mentioned they take leftover fruit and veggies to feed them the scraps. 

Their garden was spectacular. It was here that I finally ate decent tomatoes, almost as good as the ones in Romania. At dinner time I hoarded the romaine lettuce and radicchio too, make-shifting the leaves as hamburger buns, since well... I had already eaten a baking-sheet pan's worth of toasted coconut bread for breakfast. 

After check-out we did attempt to drive around Gravatá proper to get a feel for the town but most shops and restaurants were closed, main church boarded off. Instead I spotted the brown signs indicating landmarks pointing up to visit "Alto do Cruzeiro," a lookout point with a statue of Christ and along with waterfall symbols. As we drove higher up, the neglected roads finally become impassible with piles of junk and detritus blocking the way. It seemed that Gravata had little on offer so we headed back to the highway. Turns out there's Gravatá- then there's tourist Gravatá. On the way out we found the cafes, craft stores, and furniture stores: all high quality products made locally. The tidy, cobbled street was short, but gave an inspiring indication that the town has a lot more on offer.

Would I come back for another round of Catskills lodge living circa 1963? Probably not. It was cute and tranquil but not my taste. But we definitely plan to revisit the towns and scenery off Route 232. The hills might only top off at 1,467 feet elevation, but views on offer remind me that Brazil is more than coconuts and beach. 

Most popular photo spot for all Portal Fazenda visitors:
the fake horse. 

Our excited rec guy and his flock.

The old man on the farm.

Fresh farm smell. 

Watering the horses.

The garden.

Ostrich or avestruz. Mean looking thing.

Chocolate milk as fresh as it gets.

Female hummingbird.

Male hummingbird.

Jardim Botanico de Recife

On July 31, 2015, Brazil's Ministry of Environment announced Recife's botanic gardens as one of the best 5 gardens in the country, and the only one located in northeast Brazil. After reading this, I felt sheepish that I hadn't bothered visit yet- a decision based on several opinions that the gardens were just sort of "meh." My pre-judged opinion changed the minute I was greeted at the gate: kind employees, free entry, and immediate access to an authentic, living rainforest. An ecosystem firmly established in the dark soil cleared the way for entirely different ecosystems up in the canopy with plants growing upon plants upon branches, with vines connecting one end to the other. 

Everywhere I looked there was something worth seeing: pinky-sized mini bee hives, ant farms, flowers, fungi. Agile Sagui monkeys jumped from tree to tree making faces for the cameras, fat lizards raced across the paths, and gasp-worthy spiders perched like sentries on their webs.  I'd hoped to see some wild life and felt satisfied about these discoveries. But then I gazed high into the trees and saw sloths! Up until now we'd only seen sloth-crossing signs while driving to random beaches out of the city, so seeing the real thing was very exciting. These small 3-toed fur balls sat dozing, gazing and munching on leaves. Better than that, some of them began to lithely climb down the vines, seeming to stare at Mark while he took their picture. 

My kids enjoyed the wild life, but what they really loved was the sensory garden, where they could touch different textures of clay, sand, and soil that perpetuates life in the forest. They could smell various herbs and listen to the sound of water falling.  Basically: they played with rocks and dirt, and got completely filthy. But everyone was very happy. My advice: go. The Jardim Botanico de Recife is very much worth peeling yourself away from the beach and coconut water for a true rainforest experience only 30 minutes away.

Peeking through the canopy.

Greenish tint comes from
algae growing in the fur.

Smiley

 Fruit from the Coité Tree meaning "true gourd."
The fruit is used as an instrument in Afro-Brazilian music.
Also a great waterproof container.

Sensory garden where every kid fought
the urge to throw these rocks into the air.

Pond reflection.

Cais do Sertao Museum

Opened April 2014, close to Marco Zero

Imagine a museum that highlights austere living in the backwoods: sunken cracked earth, thorny shrubs, cactus, blistering sun; where the land aches from cattle ranches, cotton farming and chronic drought and the citizens cultivate images of cowboys, leather makers, and lovers of forro music. Sound a little underwhelming? Surprisingly, quite the opposite. The museum, named Cais do Sertão, translates to "Edge of the Backwoods" is one of Recife's proud achievements. Interactive, modern and incredibly artistic, the museum does a fabulous job showing the coastal inhabitants the powerful and beautiful lure of the Brazilian northeast interior.

After paying the entry fee I was sternly lectured about the museum's strict anti-photography rule while they locked up my bag. Directly, the guide shepherded me into a floor-to-ceiling semi-circle theater for a 6 minute video showcasing daily life of the sertão's inhabitants. I felt ensconced in heat, and in the beauty of daily ritual. I felt a little boredom as the day stretched into night perfectly illustrating the slower pace of life. 

Thirst
http://sgrpublicidade.blogspot.com.br/

Beyond the video was the museum space with an running stream full of swimming fish dividing the floor. One side was heavy with historical music movements, particularly Baião, a style that later grew into forró and coco music. This music is a mix of country, polka, mariachi and blues- heavy on the accordion with catchy syncopated rhythms. It highlights homesickness, passion, or jealousy. Instruments, costumes, photos and plenty of listening stations- interestingly ones that played when a listener placed their elbows into some grooves on the display and covering the ears with their hands. 

Luiz Gonzaga, a cactus and a sunset
http://blogs.diariodonordeste.com.br/

The other side contained quite literally a mashup of interactive displays: video art on the statement of guns and violence; quiz games on the harrowing drought problem; touch screens with art; tools and personal belongings. At the far end was a seemingly random ice cave for visitors to walk through, giving the sensation of being watched from all angles. 

Up the stairs to the loft, I wandered through the Baião library and stared at records made by Luiz Gonzaga. The museum attendant in this section told me many students access their book collection for research on Baião music. Admittedly, the collection contained only about 50 books, but they were placed in a comfortable space with couches, conducive to group work and discussion. I cruised by a collection of instruments along with a music teacher ready and waiting with drums, guitars, accordions, cymbals. Perhaps the most interesting exhibit was the recording rooms perfect for karaoke. Forró karaoke- very adorable if not a little weird for those unfamiliar with it.

www.portodorecife.pe.gov.br

There's plenty to read for those who want it, plenty to listen, plenty to watch, plenty to play. The staff were all young, hip and fresh- eager to talk. The value of respecting and remembering this culture was clearly at the top of the list, and everyone at the museum did a great job showing it. I'd say of all the 54 museums Recife has on offer, Cais do Sertão is easily my favorite. 

Brazilian Father's Day

Brazilians know how to celebrate holidays. All the pomp and circumstance comes wrapped in revelry and layered with homages to all things sacred, particularly when it comes to families. So when Brazilian Father's Day rolled around, I had already spent several days mentally prepping Mark with his fatherly duties for the kid's school's Saturday morning presentations. He arrived early with Margo and walked into a gymnasium slathered in manly decorations of soccer balls, kites, and primary colors. Music blared through the speakers in between unintelligible speeches and directions for the kids and fathers to follow as they filed into their assigned spots. First task was to complete an art project together. The second task involved hundreds of men hoisting their children over their heads in a version of Simon Says: carry them like a baby, carry them like an airplane,  carry them on your back while your shirt clings to you and sweat runs into your shoes. Lastly, smile for the hundreds of moms holding their iPhones giddy to catch the memory forever. 

Thirty minutes later Mark got to do it all over again when I arrived with Deets. Several hundred more men filed in with their children to do some art and dance like monkeys. Only this time the kids and dads were assigned group work: build something out of trash. In general it was a great process for creativity if not for two dads who took over like Sith Lords who singlehandedly built a trash robot. No one seemed inclined to add Deets' contribution: an empty plastic bottle wrapped in tissue paper and glue. But he didn't care, he was stoked to have his dad right by his side amongst the throngs of warm bodies. Once the two dads built the robot, they unsuccessfully tried to name the robot Dilma as a sour humored jab to insult the country's president.  Not needing to be part of political mirth, Mark succeeded in naming robot something innocuous. Each class then paraded around the sweltering gym, forced to smile and pose for the cameras before I finally managed to make eye contact with him and sneak out with two exultant and proud children. 

Being a good sport. 

As for the American Father Day version, we spent the actual Father's Day celebrating all things sacred to Mark: eating homemade toast, watching soccer on TV and... happy hour at the gas station. Just the way he likes it.  

Brazil and Birthdays

Things you may see at a birthday party in Brazil: 

Cake presentation with party favors filled with candy. 

More party favors filled with candy. 

Fully casted "live" show. And then some more candy.

Cameo theme with party favors (filled with candy) at a video-arcade. 

Unlimited games and rides. 

Vibrant Transformer displays. And candy. 

Bumblebee cameo, fog machine, and dancing. 

An unbreakable pinata.

Homemade cake with peelable cake topper
that won't actually peel off.

Star Wars sugar cookies.
And candy... collected from past parties.

Swim noodle light sabers, Star Wars crafts, and capes.

Fancy parties or not, the effect is the same: elated children, molding international friendships, and creating memories. 

Marcos Pontes and Space Tavel

Astronaut turned life coach/
motivational speaker/
engineering consultant

After dragging my kids around a few too many beaches in the pouring rain, I decided to spice up the kid's "winter break" in Recife by taking them to a mall. Sort of. Specifically, a mall that advertised a month long "Children in Space" exhibit in honor of Marcos Pontes, Brazil's first (and currently only) astronaut who blasted into space back in 2006, spending a week at the International Space Station with the Russians. The exhibit's claim to fame promised a strict thirty minutes of unfettered space learning; with blue suits, hair nets and shoe covers. We watched a 6 minute video, walked around a few model planets, and stared at tiny models encased in glass. Well, I did all these things while the kids staggered under their ill-fitting, giant space helmets, totally distracted. 

I felt their space experience lacked any sense of awe and wonder but chocked it up to the stale circulated mall air. But then they lead the kids to a looming space capsule lined with 3 inch foam and spray painted stars for a galactic dance party. The kids went absolutely insane, dancing and body slamming in the black light. They refused to leave that sweaty fun pit for thirty more minutes, but to the space employee's delight who put the songs on repeat. In the end I managed to peel off their uniforms but immediate freedom allowed them to run back into the dance party. I'd say this made up for Schlink rainy day death marches in the sand. 

Margonaut

A slightly underwhelmed astro-tot
before the foam pit throw down.

Praia do Paraiso

I love when TDYers come visit. These "temporary duty" officers often arrive with fresh perspectives and want to travel as much as possible since they are usually only posted for a few weeks or months to help with staffing coverage. So when my unwieldy children started to suffer from rainy season cabin fever, I called up a TDYer here from Sao Paolo, Brazil and set off on another dirt road to check out the smallest beach in Pernambuco: Praia do Paraiso. Indeed the tiny praia stretched a mere 70 meters wide filled with grainy sand and high sea-weed content, but of course the kids relished hunting for treasure in the pouring rain. We hung around just long enough for me to slip on the rocks and smash my phone to pieces- which went completely unnoticed by a fisherman, clad only in a winter hat and Speedo mending his net. I lay there, spread out like a starfish dazed but the impact and ocean drenching my hindside. So we hiked back to the car which I had parked at the top of the hill due to massive worm-hole openings in the road.  At least it warranted spectacular views of Pernambuco's famous outlying reefs, and I enjoyed good company with a new friend; without her I would have been a total weeny. 

View from the top.

Where we decided to hike instead of drive.  

 

Beached seaweed

Deets hunting for dinosaur bones