So, the Onze de Maio (the boat we picked up in Manaus to carry us the 1000 miles down the Amazon to the Atlantic Ocean) was definitely sub-par compared to the other boat, AlmTE Alfredo Zanys, that took us from Porto Velho to Manaus.
Typical cargo/passenger boat on the Amazon.
On the upside, we met an awesome couple from San Fransisco. They kept us entertained and were great company for the four day journey. But before I get into that… first the horrors.
1) The whistle. Yes, the whistle. Morning, noon, and night, (I mean breakfast, lunch, and dinner) the staff wandered the boat with whistles letting everyone know it was time to come and eat. And by “morning” I mean 5:30 a.m.
2) The mess hall cum bunk area. Instead of a fixed area for dining 12 at a time like we had on the boat previous, this boat had tables seating 30 each that slid up the poles to store in the ceiling when it wasn ´t meal time. You don ´t learn this until after you ´ve strung your hammock and the boat has departed. So, the poor folks who had the misfortune of stringing in the table area had no choice but to get up at 5:30 every morning to tie their hammocks out of the way so the tables could be lowered. To top it off, the tables came to rest directly above their luggage, which meant they had no access to their bags during meal times, not to mention the dirty feet and lots of footprints once the tables were put away.
3) Loopy hammocks. There are four bars running parallel to one another from which to string your hammocks. To cram in as many people as possible, as folks arrived, the staff ran around laying the smack-down on anyone trying to skip more than a bar (and therefore avoid chronic spine curvature). If the ends of your hammock aren ´t far enough apart, (especially if you ´re 6 ´7″ Pat), there is absolutely no way to sleep comfortable. Luckily we pulled a fast one.
4) Fewer bathrooms. Our second boat had double the people and half the bathrooms. Not a good combination. One time I had to pee so bad, and the bathrooms were occupied for an hour straight. I honestly considered crawling up on the rail and peeing off the side of the boat.
5) Bathrooms for little people only. Poor Pat couldn ´t stand up straight, and I could barely turn around without scraping against the wall. A problem because of…
6) sub-par cleanliness. The bathrooms were a focal point of quickly accumulating ickiness.
7) Non-flushing toilets. They were designed to flush, but somehow the pV=nRT concept has escaped these people. So… the liquid waste would flush, but the solids stayed until the staff would pour giant buckets of river water into the bowl. Splashy splash. EWWWWW.
8) Busy bow areas – the previous boat had all the staircases between levels at the stern, but this one had them at the bow, ruining a great hang-out area.
9) Crowded upper deck. The lifeboats (hard plastic “rafts”) took up most of the railing space, and chairs lined the rest under a canopy with no head room even for us shorties.
10) Sub-par meals, and not all you can eat. More like all you can eat before your neighbor. And people weren ´t considerate of others down the line. At our last meal, the woman who got the meat dish first picked out every single vegetable for herself. She actually dug through until she had found and captured every last pototato and carrot. I wished I knew enough Portuguese to give her a piece of my mind.
11) Windy, windy, windy. It was much tougher to read and write in the wind of the open water on this boat. Boo.
Enough complaining. Despite all the dissappointments, we still had a ton of fun cruising down the river. Like I said, John and Rebecca were awesome, and between planning the rest of our trip, having great conversations, lounging in our hammocks, napping, and sharing some cerveja (beer) on the upper deck, we had an incredible experience.
Rebecca went to school at Humboldt (where Pat is going in the fall) for three years, so she was able to give us some good advice as well as hook us up with some people living in Humboldt County. Among the many insightful conversations we had, one of the best as far as journal topics are concerned, is safety. I realized, when were were stopped in a port of a fairly large city, I would actually be more afraid and more worried about my baggage in the U.S. than I am here. We decided that might have something to do with the U.S. being such a violence-prone culture.
Random tidbits that I am too tired to organize:
1) Long ago, the Amazon was an ancient inland sea covering almost half of South America. Once it became the Amazon river, it flowed to the Pacific until the Andes rose up however-many thousands of years ago. Then the water broke through the other side and started its present-day flow to the Atlantic. The river is HUGE at some points (feels like you ´re boating across an enormous lake) and so narrow at other places that you can see tiny fruits hanging from trees on shore.
2) When we stopped in Santarem (the 1/2 way port) I bought a coconut that I opened by pounding on the dock (a trick I learned in Bolivia) only to be told by standers-by that it was rotten. Damn the luck. I learned to always have them opened at the market.
3) The red sand and cliffs of the Amazon are one of the most striking parts of the area.
4) Noctural spiders… who knew? Each night I ´d go to bed dubiously eyeing my several eight-legged bunkmates only to find them gone in the morning.
5) Skimpy skimpy skimpy… I suppose because of the heat (although it gets this hot in the U.S., too) people dress like women at the Sturgis Rally year round. It ´s just a bit surprising, that ´s all. I ´m used to conservative tank tops instead of small bits of cloth.
6) Beef by the side, not the pound. Meat from animals is not packaged before shipping here. At one port, we watched them haul on a minimum of seven freshly quartered animals (some beef, the other too small to be beef) and stick it in the boat ´s fridge. Just strange to see things at the beginning instead of the end (supermarket).
7) Insects of death – a giant flying ant/wasp and a flying beetle as big as a half-dollar were the entemological highlights of the trip.
8) Forest dwellers hitching a ride… they ´d paddle out in their canoes and as the boat zoomed by, they ´d use a three to five foot metal rod to snag one of the tires cum bumper blocks on the side of the boat. Incredible!
9) seven-year-old Tiger Woods look-alike obsessed with Pat… This kid had a killer smile and couldn ´t quit grinning every time we caught his eye. His dad told Pat at one of our last meals that he wanted to get a picture of the two of them together. Cute!
When we got to Belem, we said our goodbyes to John and Rebecca, checked into the cheapest hotel in the book, and beelined for the laundromat where the dryers are gas powered and so hot that our clothes came out smelling like burnt synthetic (my underware). Oh well! Belem is a beautiful city, and we found a delicious Italian place where we shared a plate of pesto pasta. Mmmmmm!
After laundry, Pat and I split up so I could take care of my post office chores (I promised my former co-workers I ´d send a letter). The post office is SO different here. They don ´t sell envelopes, rubber cement is the seal of choice, and apparently people don ´t send much mail. I was sent into a room with a bank of chairs facing two desks at the head of the room. It was entirely empty save for one man behind a desk who swathed my envelope in $7.50 worth of stamps and sent me on my way.
I met up with Pat, and we saw the city sights… old forts, old buildings, and a very new port station… clean and air-conditioned… full of tons of expensive restaurants. We indulged in the local flavors of ice cream (açai… a berry from the Amazon, and tapioca… quite good) before finding a really friendly internet cafe. They didn ´t charge Pat for his hour of internet time because his computer quit and wouldn ´t start again. A rare thing to do here!
After a dinner full of the typical problems (just because it ´s on the menu, don ´t expect them to actually serve it!) we headed for another internet session before returning to our hotel only to find our bed infested with ants. The night attendant said he couldn ´t get us a new room until the morning, so we packed up and slipped out to a place that cost twice as much but offered four times the comfort.
The next morning, I asked the woman at the front desk to call the bus station and find out departure times for our next destination (Fortaleza), but she refused to call. She was certain they left at 7:00 a.m. (too late for that one!) and 8:00 p.m. Just to be sure, we went to our favorite internet cafe, and they found out for us that one of the only busses had left 15 minutes ago. We decided to head to the station ourselves. We approached a ticket counter with our destination advertised. I couldn ´t understand the attendent ´s response about when the next departure was, so I finally asked him to write it down. Agora. (Now.) Oh! We bought tickets and ran through the terminal, down the stairs, through security, and jumped on the bus just in time. Phew!
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