This is the Life

Despite what everybody else says, I find that the Brazilian side of Iguazu Falls is actually the more beautiful one...

So after the falls--the Brazilian side--I hopped a bus to Campo Grande, a city that serves as a major access point for the Pantanal--the world's largest wetlands area. The Pantanal is dotted by Fazendas, sort of like a Brazilian version of a ranch, which focus mostly on raising cattle. Though, as I came to find out, sometimes its more about simply keeping them alive versus making sure they're fat.

Within minutes of arriving in Campo Grande, I hopped on yet another bus to drive 2 more hours to get to the tradeoff point where you get into yet another vehicle--a 4x4--that tries to take you over the drenched dirt roads to the Fazenda. On a dry day, it would have probably only taken an hour to reach the final destinatio. But its the wet season--I hit it perfecly, but more on that later--and the ranches have been bringing in large cattle trucks which have severely damaged if not destroyed the roads, leaving them almost impassable to anyone without a tractor or 18 wheeler. Even then, nothing is for certain. Though, the fazendas that focus more on tourismare tring to make it so the cattle have to be taken out of the area before they are picked up by the trucks closer to pavement. Heavy lobbying efforts have occured in order to get the government to address the issue, but it has so far only resulted in a helicopter flyover by the regions Representative in Government... Now, I ask you, what can you tell about a dirt road from a helicopter? Enough ranting though...

So on the way in, you see capibara, caimans, hear stories of giant piranha, watch an 18 wheeler get stuck in the mud, then another, then your car gets stuck, then you spot an ostrich, or maybe the Blue Macaw. You get excited, that 20 or so hours of straight bus riding feels like maybe it is worth it. Then the rain comes. Of course, any time you go to the Pantanal during Summer you risk not seeing much as a result of torrential downpours and flooding. To make a long story short, I spent the next three days getting bit by mosquitos, trudging through armpit high water, riding down the river on a boat (pretty sweet), riding horses through the water, and pretty only saw a few birds. Despite the flooding and mosquitoes, it was a good opportunity to find some silence after a long time in Buenos Aires and really just continue my constant state of reflection without all the normal distractions. Plus, I saved some money too (because Rio is incredibly expensive).

On the last day, I rode out from the fazenda, and saw everything--including the elusive Anaconda--that I didn't see doing the walks, horse-rides, or boat rides...


Floooooooooooooooooooding...

After a night in Campo Grande, a 24 hour bus ride to Rio de Janeiro followed. I've become pretty accustomed to the long bus rides though, and passed out for the majority of the time. And, I have to admit, I was pretty stoked to get back to an urban center too, mostly because I HATE mosquitoes.


Not everything in Rio is Jesus's and sunshine...

Upon arriving in Rio, I hailed a cab to catch a ride to Copacabana. Immediately, the cab driver asks me, in English, where I'm from--I tell im Washington, he asks D.C., I explain north of California and next to Canada, he doesn't know what I'm talking about... you know, the standard exchange. But then he goes, "Holy shit man, did you just see that?" I told him no, and he says, "that was an army truck, I wonder if they were armed." I ask why, and he replies, "because they are headed to the favela we have to go through to get to your hostel." And goes on with, "Don't take one of those favela tours man, if the army comes in, or a shootout goes down, you're gonna die." I can't say I was planning on taking a favela tour anyway... but I can explain more of that in a second...

During the duration of my stay, everything was safe and secure. I do know, without actually knowing, that Rio is an incredibly dangerous for its citizens, particularly in the, at least many of the, favelas. Some drug lords work hard at keeping everyone as safe as possible, help improve schools, improve healthcare, and many other things. There are something like 485 favelas in the sprawling metropolis that is RDJ, which probably means that the odds aren't that great in terms of finding an oh-so-kind drug lord. Then again, I don't really know...

Anyway, I didn't take a tour, and instead visited the regular sites--Sugarloaf, Christo Redentor, Ipanema, Copacabana, Maracana Stadium, etc. I have heard from people that the favela tours are a great way to see into the lifestyle of the favelas, and that it can be a rewarding experience. I recognize that I'm different from others, but I kind of question how much you can actually see from just a day. Plus, I couldn't really get with any tour companies whose slogan is "Be a Local," nor do I ever feel it appropriate to run in somewhere, snap pictures of people in their home and then go off showing it around to my middle class family in the U.S. who hasn't ever had to deal with even the slightest reality of Brazilians living in favelas. I didn't go though, and therefore, I really can't say anything, and you don't have to take pictures either... It's still something to think about though.

I ran around the city on foot, in buses, and the occasional cab in order to see and experience all I wanted and could in the pricey city that is Rio--on par with London... Then, I spent my final days in South America on a beach watching time unfold and my skin darken. I thought a lot about what it will be like to go home, back to a reality of impending job searches and grad exams. Fortunately, I still have quite a while before I head back home.


And the sun sets on my time in South America...