Tale of Two Walks..... or "Monday"

First of all, thank you everyone who commented so favorably on my previous post.  Obviously they won’t all be florid prose like that, but I’m glad I got to share a little of what it feels like to be here.

Today, I will tell you a tale of two walks to the bank, both alike in destination and participants. The 9am hour saw myself and Cindy the Roommate, poised with walking sandals and tiny purses geared up for an expedition to find the bank. I had previously stumbled upon it earlier in the week. With my superior map knowledge and navigation skills we tried a new route and only took one wrong turn, which was quickly righted. I was quite relieved that we turned up where I thought we should and not somewhere that was, well, not on my map.  I got to show Cindy the Avenue Gertulio Vargas. We both agreed we like this street. Lots of restaurants and hotels. My internet café is on that road.  Wide sidewalks. A tree-lined median. Lots of people. It was comforting to be walking such a pleasant road and knowing it was so close. 

After thirty sweaty minutes, we arrived at our destination: the HSBC bank, resident of ATMs  that speak English and keeper and dispenser of cash.  However, due to large corporations, particularly large banks being the worst ever, Cindy’s efforts to access said cash were thwarted.  There was nothing to do but head back home.  We took our time and noticed several lovely shops and restaurants to potentially try in the future. We treated ourselves to lunch at our favorite bakery and then headed home. For the past couple days, I’ve been fighting off a tropical cold of sorts so I headed for a much needed Benadryl and siesta (the locals call it sesta) and Cindy went to fight with her bank via skype.

Cindy was victorious, so it seemed, and after a few hours rest to let the heat of the day pass, we ventured out again.  My theory is this: God in his infinite wisdom, knowing our efforts to become as much like Brazilians as we can, felt we had not quite sweated enough nor gotten enough sun this morning. I mean, the afternoon heat is a whole new heat to experience from the morning heat! How could I possibly, with good conscience, declare myself to be living in the Amazon if I did not experience the changing heat with the changing light?! Unconscionable!

This trip did reveal a previously hidden treasure: The Super Market!!! We found it!!  Not at all far from our apartment; such an easy walk! We took note and vowed to stop on our way back. “Tonight!!!” we announced to Avenue Joaquim Nabuco with fists held high, “We shall not dine on your Brazilian brand of Ramen Noodles!! We shall eat real food! We swear to you on the melodramatic acting of every epic adventure movie we have ever seen….. THERE WILL BE FRUIT!!”  Okay… maybe we high-fived and kept moving, but still. It was awesome. 

Again, some thirty shoulder-sun-burning minutes later, we arrived at the HSBC, who had once appeared like a gleaming bastion of all things good and right in the world, now had the tarnish of Chase Bank Customer Service. And again… we were denied.

Torn between quiet racking sobs and Do The Right Thing type violence, we settled for defeatism and cold water at the Hotel Brasil.  There we gathered our emotional fortitude while watching Cheaper by the Dozen in Portuguese.  I had forgotten Ashton Kutcher was in that.

Brazil is not a third world country. It has one of the fastest growing economies in the world.  And Manaus, I have been told by my new friends and neighbors, is the 4^th richest city in Brazil. There are huge corporations who have their South American headquarters and factories here.  But it does have third world tendencies.  It’s hot, the cars drive crazy, its dirty, eggs are cheap, soap is ridiculously expensive (what’s up with that??).  And you cannot drink the water, or even brush your teeth with it. Also it means that, more than I think Europe or Canada, everything is an adventure. Going to the bank is an adventure, the supermarket is an adventure, finding a poisonous snail on the outside wall of your building when you come home is an adventure.  Brushing your teeth when you run out of bottled water… well that’s ill-advised.  My point is -  life is an adventure. I’m more aware of it now because everything is different and bizarre and wonderful and awful.  But, I hope I don’t lose that perspective when I get used to this South American life.  

P.S. Cindy once again battled with the Mighty Chase Customer Service, and in the morning, once again gets to trek the expedition to the ATMs. If you, kind reader, are a praying person, send up one or two tonight for Cindy. God is the God who provides. We would love it if He would provide through the selected ATM tomorrow.