Thoughts on Nostalgia

A lot has happened since I last posted here: I came home from Brazil, got engaged, went to Italy, got married, moved back to Utah. 2011 was a busy year. But I'm afraid this next blogpost will just be my boring thoughts on an NPR article I just read about nostalgia and its roots.

I know a sudden post about nostalgia is a leap from my last post about Brotas, Brazil, but let me tie it in with this link about "saudade." Iruã taught us this word, and I do think we need an English equivalent, although (no offense, T-rex) I don't think it should be nostalgretz.

ANYway, all I really wanted to say was that I liked this article, and it has some interesting analysis on the escapism of nostalgia, but I think it left out an important element of why we love looking at the past. One of the big draws of the past, I think, on either a personal or cultural level, is the lack of unknown about the future. (I know this probably isn't earth shattering, but I'm just vomiting my thoughts here.)

For example, the NPR article talks about why we love Mad Men and suggests that it's because we need to escape from the present, and the imperfect but beautiful world of the '60s is as good a place as any to escape to. I think, in addition to that, we like looking back at the crises of the '60s with the knowledge that we pulled through them and were fine. The Cold War and its threat of nuclear destruction was scary, but we pulled through. Kennedy was shot, but the nation was OK, and also he turned out to be kind of a scumbag anyway.

I think this is true on a personal level, too. You want to escape to your childhood not because it was perfect, but because you survived it, and the challenges from that era are things you've already been through.

Brotas

We took the bus on Friday morning and arrived around 4. Diane booked this package deal of hotel, rafting, canyoning, and zip lining, so we thought we wouldn't need to worry about any transportation once we got there. Brotas seemed pretty touristy on the websites. But when we got to the bus stop, there was nothing. No information at all, let alone in English. And it turns out our hotel was actually in a different city, 15 miles away. So we spent a few minutes wandering around looking lost--lost enough that finally this girl waved us over and asked where we were from. Her English was so good that I asked where she was from, too, and she said she was Brazilian but had just returned from a 2 year nannying stint in Atlanta (what are the odds?). She offered to direct us to our hotel, and when we showed her the map she told us how far it was, and then she offered to drive us. For once Diane was more hesitant than I, but we didn't have much choice. So Maria drove us all the way to the other city, gave us her number, and told us we could sleep at her house on Sunday night (the hotel was only for 2 nights, but no buses sleave on Sundays).

On Saturday we went rafting, which was really fun, although not very challenging. They put 7 people in each raft, plus a tour guide, and I'm pretty sure he did all the work from the back corner. But it was fun to learn commands for steering: "frente" (frenchay)=forward, "re"(hey)=back, "piso"(peeso)=get down in the boat and hold on. And our war cry, which I never said right, was "Nos capotas mais nao brakas!" or something like that, which means, we may roll, but we don't break!

After that we went canyoning, which again wasnt very challenging but was beautiful. You might know this, but it's essentially rapelling but with water. So we rapelled down sthree waterfalls, and hiked a little ways through the water. It was great except when the guide showed me a spider the size of my palm lurking on the rocks we were climbing over.

On Sunday we went on the "Voo de Tarzan" zipline. It's apparently the longest, or highest, or both, zipline in Brazil. I thought it'd be a rush of adrenaline, but again it was just beautiful, kind of slow-paced soaring over the jungle. After that we went on a short hike to another waterfall, which was in this secluded hollow and literally had rainbows and butterflies flitting around it. We went and stood under the waterfall and said, we have done everything we could do in a waterfall, short of actually jumping down one: we've been in the top of a waterfall, in the bottom of a waterfall, in the middle of a waterfall, rapelled down next to a waterfall, seen famous waterfalls, seen secret waterfalls, stood in waterfalls with our clothes on, stood in waterfalls with just our swimsuits on, seen another country from a waterfall, seen waterfalls legally, and seen waterfalls illegally. So we were pretty proud of ourselves.

After that we checked out of the hotel and went back to Brotas. We didn't want to impose on Maria longer than we had to, so we had a few hours to kill. We bought some souvenirs and then wandered around, looking for all the people in Brotas, since it was practically empty. And then, when we wandered along the river in the middle of town, we found them. They were all swimming in the river and fullfilling our Waterfall Destiny: jumping down a waterfall. There were all these guys doing crazy dives and flips from the top of a waterfall, and Diane and I thought, we have to try. So we changed into our swimmies and went down to the water. The current was relatively strong, but we made it to the rocks in the middle and climbed up. We stood at the top and contemplated for a long, long time, while the guys chattered at us and told us it was fun and safe. It was probably 10-12 feet high, so not too bad, but we were afraid of slipping and hitting some unknown rock. But we finally went, and I got the adrenaline rush I'd been missing for the whole trip. It was so, so fun and we went 2 more times before we changed and called Maria again.

That sums it up, except for Maria's absurdly kind hospitality.

Pantanal in Pictures

Pantanal, Friday

So, I need to catch up on last weeks marvelous trip to Pantanal. It was one of those trips that's hard to write about, because it was just so great. It made me so happy and sad at the same time, being with friends in a beautiful place and knowing how hard it would be to return. But for now, I'll just dwell on the happy. Also, I'm going to cheat and do bullet points.

Friday

• arrived in Miranda, Mato Grosso do Sul (yes, the region that's in Newsweek this week), and met Iruã's parents.
• dropped off our stuff at their house, went to a barbecue. It was fun to meet people and watch them cook mutton in a cauldron, but it was so hot I couldn't enjoy the food.

• learned about the Paraguayan war
• walked around town

• met Iruã's grandma
• went to Refugio dos Bugios, a protected area in Miranda with wild monkeys (!) and mini Capybaras

Aside from the heat, it was a great first day in Miranda!

Matthew Tribute

Because I miss the little buggy guy. I emailed him and complained about the dog eating my computer cord (did I write about that on here?) and here was his suggestion:

"sorry about the dog, but maybe you shouldnt kick him. if you were closer to the jungle, you might be able to feed him to something, like an eagle or an anaconda, but i guess that is too far away."

Yes, unfortunately the jungle is too far away to feed Suzie to an anaconda. But it's a good and matthewesque suggestion.

...and the next day

After writing Saturday's blog post, I fell asleep for an hour and a half and then got up for church. They made me the pianist for sacrament meeting, so not only did I have to go, I had to go early. I was terrified of falling asleep on the keyboard or something, but actually I didn't sleep even once in the three hours! How righteous am I? And the playing went OK, although someone chose "Let Us All Press On" for the last hymn, which is hard, even though I told them in my best Portuguese that I'm not very good.

After church we went to Iruã's vó's (grandma's) house. She made us feijoada, a traditional Brazilian dish with beans and pork:

They eat it with some sort of crushed cracker flower stuff (in the white dishes on the left). I'm glad I finally ate some--everyone's been talking about it since I got here. Plus, I met some of Iruã's family. His grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousin were there. His 9 year old cousin, João, takes English classes at CCBEU. His English was really good, and I was impressed that he stuck around and talked to us. Over the course of the day, João and I discussed comic books, favorite animals, favorite foods, soccer, and dogs.

I also, thank goodness, fell asleep after lunch and probably drooled all over the couch.

After my nap, we drove to Iruã's family's farm. It's a sugar cane farm, and his aunt and uncle have an "orchid house" there. It's really cool: they have a sort of open-sided tent with hanging baskets of orchids underneath.

The rest of the farm was beautiful, too. It's mango season, and there are mangoes littering the ground--so many that we were slipping on rotting mango corpses and feeding them to the pigs:

and the cow:

To get fresh mangoes for ourselves, we threw rotten mangoes at the tree.

Now, I love mangoes, but they're always kind of a pain to eat. Who knew you could peel them with your teeth?

We wandered around and enjoyed the view:

A Long Night (and day)

I think the best way to tell this story is backwards.

Not least because that's how I'm thinking right now. It's 5:30 am, and Diane and I just got back from a good 45 minutes of being completely and totally lost while trying to walk home. Luckily, the churches in Lins decorate with crazy neon crosses, so eventually we found our way back, just as the dawn was breaking.

Walk home from where? From our friend and co-worker's house. Remember when I made a big deal about riding in a Slug Bug for the first time? Well, big fat deal, August-Rachel: today I drove my first VW Bug. Diane and I went clubbing with two of our friends from work, both of whom drank. A lot. There was no way we could let them drive. Especially the one who drove to the club, whose Beetle needed to get home. Diane never learned stick shift, and so I--and this is one of the bravest things I have ever done, Follower--I, whose stick shift knowledge comes from a 30 minute lesson 6 years ago with Uncle Erik and an hour of driving Aurora's car 1 1/2 years ago--I drove us all home. Being re-coached by a wasted guy is not easy (although it's admittedly hilarious), and I stalled the poor love bug several times, ran countless "Pare" signs, and insisted on remaining in first gear for the majority of the journey. Sorry about that, passengers. When I finally got up the nerve to try for second, I stalled in the middle of the freeway. But I got it eventually. I also improved my starts and stops when I let people out to pee.

So, before we realized we were in a fix with the car situation, the club was really fun. It's almost as scary to dance with a drunk Brazilian as it is to drive his car, but I have to say, even the Brazilians who insist that they can't dance are actually good. It's just ingrained in the culture, I think. Sertanejo plays at every party and club, and everyone actually grabs a partner and dances. I love it. I also love when they play Maroon 5 and Diane and I know all the words and what they mean.

Before that, we had a really great time at Choppão, a bar, with a tableful of other English teachers. We discussed, among other things, various kinds of alcohol, jackets, and pick-up lines. I really like hanging out with the other teachers, and I hope we do it more often.

Wait! That's still not the beginning. Before Choppão, Diane and I went with Iruã from and to the Linense soccer game, which was so fun to see. I asked lots of dumb questions but enjoyed myself immensely, and Linense won 5x0. It poured on the way there, but luckily it stopped, and instead there was a beautiful double rainbow. The perfect, promising beginning.