Brazil

MY TRIP TO RIO DE JANEIRO

 

To my beloved FB friends. Before I begin my narrative of my March trip to Rio, I would like to add the following message for all the Brazilians mentioned in the story who do not speak nor read English. I thank my Brazilian friend Iara who translated the following message for Me:

 Está estória foi escrita com muito amor no coração para cada um de vocês que estão nela mencionados. Eu peguei emprestados das suas páginas no FB porque elas os complementam tão bem! Tenho certeza de que não vão se importar. Obrigado por terem feito o meu mês no Brasil tão fabuloso. Saibam que o meu encontro com vocês foi destinado por Deus, e eu vou levar vocês no meu coração para sempre!

To all those reading my story. It is long, but I tried to abridge a whole month of happenings into the fewest words possible. The photos that are included, and that I set up in an album on FB, should augment my narrative and make it more real.

HOW IT ALL STARTED

My Rio experience begin when I went to see the world famous healer and trance-medium, John of God, in Abadiana, Goias Brazil last year, and was disappointed by the abruptness and speed of my translators there when they presented my problem to the John of God Entities while he was in a trance state. I was stunned when it was translated so crudely to them, that I vowed I would learn Portuguese when I got home, and be my own translator when I go back to JOG, which I plan to do every year for retreat purposes.

When I got home, I started taking Portuguese classes at the United Nations language school and at another language school near my apartment. With that under my belt, after six months of classes, I called my friend Merces, who lives in Rio de Janeiro and owns an apartment in Copacabana, and asked her if I could come and stay with her for a month to immerse myself in the language. Merces, who is like a sister to me, was delighted to have me, and told me that she would get a tutor for me to come every day to teach me Portuguese.

She advised me to come March 1st because her kitchen and bathroom were being renovated and the job would be finished by then. She later forgot that she had told me to come March 1st and when the work men postponed the job until March, Merces thought that I had said I was coming in April, and by the time she realized her mistake I had already bought my air ticket. "Come anyway Betina" she told me, "after all you're family and we'll figure a way out of this problem."

OFF TO RIO

I flew out of JFK airport on Monday, March 3 at 10 PM in the evening and landed at Rio's Galeão International Airport at around 9 AM the next morning.

I wish that I had known better, but I paid three times as much for a taxi to Copacabana, where Merces lives, because I didn't know that if I just went outside to the curb, I could take a regular taxi that would have cost me only 54 Reis. I paid 155 Reis to a taxi company that was stationed in a booth right outside where the arriving passengers leave the security area. To those newcomers like me who were worried about getting a taxi into Rio, they seemed like God sent. So, as the old cliche goes, "Live and learn!"

Merces would have come for me at the airport, but I told her not to because it was the last day of carnival, and traffic would probably be horrendous. She had told me that her niece and she would be waiting for me at home.

MERCES

When I got to Merces' apartment in Copacabana, I got the surprise of my life. It was not only her niece, Elcirene who was staying with her, but her nephews and nieces and three of their friends who had surprised Merces by coming for carnival unannounced. With apprehension she was only expecting three of them, a nephew and two nieces, that she knew she could possibly accommodate for the four days of carnival, but, to her shock and surprise, eight came. Merces' nephews and nieces are always pulling stuff like that on her, and she takes it time and time again because she adores them. I would soon discover why she loves them so much.

When Merces gave me the news of the number who were staying there, my New York and Mexican on-hold personality came out in full force. I mentally screamed in Spanish, and in English, "Que cabrones! What have I gotten myself into!!!" The translation for that would be, "Holy Crap, what have I gotten myself into!" But, I caught myself and calmed down while Merces showed me where I would sleep.

Merces, unbelievably, gave me her bed, and her bedroom. I protested, and told her to let me sleep in the living room couch, but that was the only solution that she had to a very stressful situation that had befallen her thanks to the thoughtlessness of her nephews and nieces, who, by the way called Merces Tia Lala or Aunty Lala.

They had brought thin mattresses, and the young women slept in the living room and the three young men in their group in Luiz's apartment, who is a friend of  Merces and mine, and who lives in her building on the ninth floor. We met Luiz many years ago when he was going to Columbia University in NYC studying for his doctorate in geology

It was a relief to Merces that the nephews and nieces, except for Elcirene, were out of the apartment all day participating in the Carnival festivities of different Rio de Janeiro neighborhoods. They would come back to the apartment around 2 AM, sleep until 8 AM, have breakfast that Merces had prepared for them, and then head out again to Rio neighborhoods where carnival floats would be displayed and samba music would be playing for everyone to enjoy and dance to. When I woke up the next morning around 10 AM, they were gone for the day.

CARNIVAL IN COPACABANA BEACH

The afternoon that I arrived, after I washed up and talked to Merces for a few hours, she, her niece and I went to Copacabana beach where the carnival was still going full blast. Brazilians celebrate carnival to the last second.

Merces has her apartment five blocks from the beach, and one could hear the lively samba beats and singing almost as soon as we left her place. What sensuous rhythms my body was capturing. I wanted to dance so badly, but was too shy. I was

waiting for Merces or her niece to start it off, but they didn't. They were either shy too ,or were just tired of carnival that had been going on for four days.

I was taken aback when I saw that there was a big screened TV on the beach walkway where people were watching the novela (soap opera). Brazilians are addicted to novelas. This seems to run in all social classes of Rio and small towns of Brazil. I'm not sure about the rest of Brazil.

The beach was teeming with people in all sorts of summer wear, especially bikinis. Bands of revelers could be heard all over the beach, and everybody seemed to be having a great time. I stopped by the sand sculpters to take a picture, and was then stopped by the artist telling me that I had to pay two Reis (one dollar) for the privilege of taking the

photo. I complied because that's how they made their living. Then the three of us bought a coconut with three straws and sat down on a rock bench to watch the parade of people and samba bands passing by. I was so happy, and couldn't believe that I had come in time to see the last hours of carnival.

I MEET THE NIECES AND NEPHEWS

When I finally did meet Merces' nieces and nephews, on Wednesday noon, I could not get over how charming they all were. I was struck by their fine manners, and good looks. Then I remembered that I was in the land where physical beauty reigns high.

People in Brazil, especially women, must try to always look their best, and are criticized and/or humiliated if they gain weight or let themselves get wrinkled.

One of the nieces, Rafaela, stressed how psychologically painful that can be. When she told me that a member of her family thought she was fat, I was shocked. She had the most perfect body and beautiful face, for a girl in her early twenties, that one can imagine, as you can see by her photo. Rafaela made me realize how damaging criticism like that can be to the self-esteem of Brazilian woman, young and old.

Brazil has the best plastic surgeons in the world, and almost everyone of my female Brazilian friends has had plastic surgery, and had their eye brows tattood. I must admit that they looked gorgeous and very natural. You will see the picture of my Rio friend, Esther, who will be 90 in May. She was an

actress in her day and had plastic surgery done by the iconic father of plastic surgery, Ivo Pitanguy, when she was a young woman, and the plastic surgery has lasted. She looks like Doris Day when she was in her 60's.

Regarding this theme about looks: I would like to add that when I took the plane out of NYC I was feeling exhausted and out of it physically and psychologically. The city had been slammed with almost weekly snow storms and below zero temperatures for months now, and New Yorkers mostly stayed home in their apartments due to the danger of going out on the icy streets. I had no energy to exercise in my apartment due to the lack of proper heating even there. I had gained weight when I got to Rio, felt exhausted, and had no desire to wear makeup there or anywhere else. I was so happy to be out of the cold, that I just wanted to bask in the heat of Rio. 

Merces was surprised at my change, but later told me that she didn't care what I looked like because of the love that she felt for me. In a sense I proved to myself that if one is loved, makeup doesn't matter. People will only see your heart.

All of Merces' nieces could have tried out for Miss Universe and won, and the young men would have charmed anybody with their prince-like demeanor and good looks. They were all so sweet and gentle too, and could carry on a conversation with intelligence and ease. I could now understand why Tia Lala was so crazy about them!

I had met two of them, Thaisa and Thiango

before in 2007 when I went to Brazil, and also met their mom, Abigail, and their charming dad, William, who is now in heaven. They were about 16 or 17 years old then, and now they were University graduates and had great professions. They were perfect examples of the beauty and poise of  today's Brazilian youth.

ELCIRENE

Elcirene I met at that time too when I went to Santa Margarida with Merces, a small village in the mountains of the state of Minas Gerais, where Merces' family lives.

There, the main attraction of the populace is to marry and rear a family, and at night watch novelas all night until bed time. There were no entertainment centers like cinemas or theaters of any sort when I was there, and Elcirene told me that the situation had not changed since I was there seven years ago.

I also could not understand the Portuguese of anyone there due to their accent and idiomatic expressions particular to that state of Minas Gerais. It would be like some tourists to the U.S. not understanding folks of a certain region of our country who speak with a southern accent.

When I first met Elcirene, I was struck by her delicate and ethereal beauty. She had the looks of an Ingrid Bergman, the actress who stole the hearts of Americans during the 1950's.

I told Merces that Elcirene could easily be hired as a model if she ever came to NYC. Now, seven years later, I was meeting her again in Rio, and this time I saw an added elegance to her more mature appearance.

An event happened that brought me closer to Elcirene in a "heart" way. She was in Rio not for the carnival, but to get a visa to go to Miami with her family, and had to go to the American Consulate to speak to a visa officer. Well, for some reason she was denied the visa, and was left devastated as anyone would be who already had bought the plane ticket thinking she would get the visa like the rest of her family had.

If I had known her better, and could speak a Portuguese that she could understand, I would have advised her to exaggerate the truth to the visa officer who interrogated  her with the usual questions regarding her employment, the number of children that she had, her bank resources, and her marital status.

Yes, I have discovered, through life's lessons, that you cannot be truthful with bureaucracy. She probably, in her innocent ignorance, told the visa officer that, no she did not have a steady job, was single with no children, and had hardly any money in the bank.

She was denied the visa because she didn't know how to lie, and had the profile of someone who would probably stay in the U.S. to get a job and make a better life for herself. But, staying in the U.S. was not her intention. She just wanted to see her sister, and fly for the first time in an airplane.

I felt so bad when I saw her in so much grief, after she got back from the consulate, that I decided to do something about it. The first thing I did was to give her one of the Alka Seltzers that I had brought with me to relieve her headache and nausea.

Her situation hurt me so much because she was so childlike, and gentle. Being the youngest of all her siblings, for some reason, she hadn't learned any of the sophistications and tricks of making it in this world like her older siblings had. I decided to invite her to all the fun events planned during my month's stay.

THE BIG CARNIVAL SHOW AT THE ARENA

The first event was inviting her to join Merces and me to a famous carnival event in Rio that I bought tickets to.

She was so happy when we three went to the show in this giant outside arena where all of the winning carnival floats, that had  been built in the favelas, would be paraded. They were the ones that were displayed during the neighborhood festivites that had won prizes for their splendor and beauty.

BTW, for those who are not familiar with the term Favela. It is an area of shanty abodes, usually up on a mountain surrounding the city of Rio, that is taken over by the poor who build their houses there overnight without permission. It is against the law in Brazil to tear down a Favela once houses are built.

The people who live there are the ones who invented the samba and the carnival in Rio. They practice all year in secret, devising the dances, the music and the floats to be displayed in the carnival neighborhood festivities, hoping to win the big prize of thousands of Brazilian Reis, and be selected to participate in the Champion parade of floats that we were attending.

It rained the night of the event, but nobody cared. The floats were spectacular, and all the thousands of Brazilians and

tourists present were dancing and singing the particular samba songs of that year's carnival. The rain stopped after an hour of pouring heavily, and we were all soaked to the bone. I was feeling all squishy, but felt good for being in such an exciting event with two dear people.

We left the event at 5 AM in a taxi. Rio looked so mystical and poetic at that time, especially when I saw the Christ, in all it's splendor, up on Corcovado Mountain, as our taxi sped by it on its way to Copacabana.

VALDENEER AND KAIQUE

I got another jolt from Merces when she told me that the two men, who would be there the next day to tear down the kitchen, would be housed in the bedroom where she and Elcirene were sleeping, and that she and her niece would be sleeping on the two couches in the living room.

Again my, on-hold, New York and Mexican temperament came out, but I didn't cuss this time. I just mentally shouted to God, "Thy will be done Lord, but dang it! Dang it!" In tearing up the kitchen to build a new one, the private bathroom that was next to it, the one that I had been using, would also be torn down.

But again, there are no accidents in life, and I'm glad that I just let the happenings flow because, Valdeneer and Kaique turned out to be the most good-natured and gracious human beings that I have met in a long time. They were both construction people, living and working in the city of Sao Paulo, who had learned their trade by watching men build houses.

Valdeneer, of the most beautiful eyes, was really the boss and the one who knew the trade. Kaique was his charming nineteen year old helper who was learning the business.

They started working at 10 AM - due to building regulations - filling the apartment with noise and dust, and at 6 PM would stop, take a shower and we all would have supper together that Merces and Elcirene had prepared.

We soon became like a big happy family bantering back and forth during supper while watching and laughing at the novelas on TV.

What moved my heart is when Valdeneer asked me one night if all Americans were as gentle as Jack and I were. Jack, a lovable friend of mine from Sao Paulo who has since passed away,  had hired Valdeneer for work in his home.

Kaique stole my heart with his forever cheerful and mischievous ways, and with his unusual-for-his-age wisdom that came out in sudden spurts. When he would get serious, gems of wisdom would pour out of his mouth - wisdom that he learned from the grandfather who raised him in Bahia. I grew to like him a lot, and the feeling was mutual.

Both of them gently teased Merces, whom they were serious with during work hours, and playful during supper time.

Kaique taught me much about Brazilian music, and was always, eager to introduce me to the smooth and rythmic tunes that he carried with him in his I-Pod.

But they both seemed to be passionately infatuated with Elcirene who treated them like brothers. I honestly think that that's why it took them so long to finish the

kitchen. They were having so much fun, and were both so enchanted with the beauty and charms of lovely Elcirene, that they just didn't want it all to end.

When they both finally finished the work and left, I felt a lump in my throat and held back my tears. I will never forget them. They strengthened the love in my heart for humanity.

MARLENE

My long time friend Marlene, from Sao Paulo, paid me a short visit. I had not seen her since she went with me to John of God, the healer, four years ago.

 I had met her in NYC at a Brazilian embassy talk when I was just out of the convent and extremely shy. We immediately took to each other. She became my best friend and lectured me constantly on my poor self-image. She was like my mentor advising me to always consider myself as the best in anything that I did, such as in job interviews. She gave me the courage that I needed to survive in NYC, and I will always be grateful to her for that. I grieved for months when she left NYC to go back to Brazil.

I was so thrilled to see her that I dismissed my rule of only speaking in Portuguese while she was there. We had so much catching up to do with so little time. Because she was leaving the next day, we talked non-stop until Marlene got such a bad sore throat that she was ordered by Merces to stop talking and take a nap. For some funny reason my teeth started hurting from so much talking, and I too had to rest my mouth.

ZOO

The tutor that Merces got me was a lot of fun, and had a funny name - Zoo! She also had a great sense of humor that I found silly at times. She constantly tried to make me laugh with her jokes whose punch line I hardly ever grasped, but when I did finally get a joke I would laugh so hard, not at the punch line, but at the fact that, at long last, I finally understood a joke. It was a laughter of relief because I was beginning to feel so dumb!

I also had to get used to the "sotaque," or accent of the Cariocas of Rio, when she spoke. A Carioca is a person born and/or raised in Rio. They speak with a continuous shhh sound that I found hard to comprehend.

I understood better the Brazilians from Sao Paulo and the South of Brazil who had more of a Spanish accent and hardly any of the shhh sound when they spoke. For instance a Carioca would pronounce the word, delicious, as "goshtozo," while folks from Sao Paulo would enunciate it as "gostoso," whose intonation was more like Spanish that I could better pronounce and understand.

What I was speaking in Rio was  "Portunhol" which means Portuguese mixed with Español. It helped a lot because the Portuguese and the Spanish share so much vocabulary. I feel sorry for those who are trying to learn the language and only speak English.

Zoo's way of teaching me was to take me, on the bus and/or subway, to a particular historical place in Rio and then would explain its history in Portuguese. I found that to be an excellent way of teaching and a lot of fun. I really got to know Rio in that way.

Zoo did give me some good gossip about the problems of the city. She told me that all Cariocas were trembling with fear because of the approaching World Cup. Why? Because Cariocas realized how disorganized they are. It just wasn't in their nature to be structured, and were afraid that the buses would take the world cup guests to the wrong stadiums, or worse, drop them off in a Favela where they might all get killed. I laughed out loud at these possibilities because they seemed so outrageous, but changed my mind when Zoo, inadvertently, did just that a few days later.

The favelas were all starting to revolt, and a police presence was in every one of them.

Zoo made a big boo boo on my last week in Rio, and took me to a favela that she thought was safe, and where she thought we could take a bus from there back to Copacabana.

We got into the Favela by taking a van, for two Reis, up the mountain to the end of the road, quite a long ride. Zoo got so nervous when she was told by a policeman there that the bus, because of the violence, had stopped going there long ago, and, as a result, we were stuck for about an hour and a half waiting for the van to take us back down. I didn't realize the danger we were in because Zoo was too nervous and embarrassed to tell me.

Thank God there were police present because of recent violence.

I was delighted to see that there was a school there for Favela children  who were coming out of school, and started talking to us. I found the children that we met to be absolutely adorable. We were invited to go visit a home by one of the them, but it was eight stories high (the stairs were outside the building structures without bannisters), and I just wasn't up to climbing dangerous stairs that high. The children ran up those stairs like they were nothing.

A gentleman who had a car, and looked trustworthy to Zoo, drove us back to Copacabana beach where Zoo and I had a coconut drink in one of the outside eateries to celebrate our not getting killed, and where we laughed our heads off at our dumb naivete.

I teased Zoo kindly by telling her that she was a typical, disorganized Carioca for not investigating beforehand if a city bus went up to that Favela. She agreed, but blamed her error on the bus changes being made by the city for the World Cup. In a sense that was true.

THE IGUAZO FALLS

On my second to last week there I was supposed to go to the Amazon jungle, but it was raining torrents there and planes were not landing. So I decided to go to the Iguazu Falls of Brazil and Argentina instead.

I invited Merces and Elcirene to go with me and they both joyfully accepted. This would be Elcirene's first airplane-ride experience, and I was just as excited as she was to see how she handled her first ever air adventure.

Merces finally saw that she would not be able to go because Valdeneer and Kaique were far from finished with the work in the kitchen. I chuckle now when I think of this because I am positive that they were taking their time due to wanting to be around Elcirene for as long as possible. Elcirene was not even aware of the passionate love directed at her by these two lovable guys.

On the plane ride to Iguazu, to be safe, I  had a plane vomit-bag on my lap just in case it had to be opened ASAP, but the plane ride didn't seem to faze Elcirene, who behaved like she flew in a plane every day. I found that to be so cute of her, and wondered if she was play-acting to impress me.

We landed in the city of Foz de Iguazu (The Fountain of Iguazu) and were picked up in a big blue van by the tourist company that would take us to the Iguazu Falls on Saturday and Sunday

We were taken to the Continental Hotel, a three star hotel that behaved more like a two star because none of their fun facilites; like their shops, exercise room, and lounges were open while we were there.

It was Friday afternoon when we got there and had plenty of time to eat at the hotel, and have long talks in our hotel room where I finally got to know Elcirene better.

I made her speak to me very "devagar," very slowly, and I finally understood what she was saying. I found her to be childlike and intelligent, with a good sense of humor spiced by an endearing humility that made her laugh at her own shortcomings.

She revealed how terribly depressed she felt at being stuck in a hometown that offered her no growth opportunities, either

psychologically or economically, and wished that she could turn a new leaf in her life by moving to a city in Brazil that offered her a better life. But, never having taken any risks like that in her life, she needed help from someone who could take her by the hand, and show her the ropes until she was able to "fly" on her own.

She also wanted to meet a man who loved her unconditionally, and with whom she could fall in love. I advised her to try Rio where her aunt lived and where she had friends. Rio offered more possibilities, and had men of better economic means.

I later gave her the book that I had read twice, and found at a Copacabana book store translated into Portuguese, E-2 by Pam Grout. I was positive that this book could help her because it taught one, not how to face reality, but how to create it.

I really felt that Elcirene and I would become good friends. We had already formed a bond as "family" in Tia Lala's home. It was so endearing and funny the way she took over my face, without my permission, in Merces' apartment on my last week in Rio. She tried to make me look like a gorgeous Brazilian by cutting my shaggy hair, and plucking my eyebrows, and the little mustache that she said I was forming on the side of my lips. She also got ahold of Kaique and plucked  his eyebrows. She tried to trim his hair, but she couldn't catch him.

She would make an excellent beautician as it seemed to be in her nature to try to make people look "pretty." Kaique certainly did after she was finished with his eyebrows.

THE BRAZILIAN IGUAZU FALLS

We were picked up in the hotel lobby, on Saturday, March 22, by Claudio, our tour guide, for our trip to the Brazilian Iguazu Falls.

When we got in that tour van we had no idea of the magnificence that was awaiting us in a few hours when we would arrive at the Brazilian falls.

Some of you have already seen the  videos of the Falls that Kaique sent, by mistake, to my FB page that were supposed to go to Elcirene's page. the videos are exciting, but do not do justice to the incredibly thunderous splendor, and beauty of the Iguazu Falls.

Claudio, our guide warned us that we would get wet while walking through the falls' trails whether we liked it or not, but we could buy inexpensive see-through rain coats that would protect our pocket books and clothes. Elcirene bought a rain coat, but I decided go with the drench instead.

We started walking a trail that was somewhat slippery and insecure. I had brought my cane to sustain me in climbing some steep stairs of the trail, and to keep me from falling. Elcirene, not being aware of what was appropriate wear to places like these, was wearing dressy sandals that later started to hurt her feet. I felt this was my fault as I should have told her that the Falls required sturdy foot wear, like tennis shoes, that most people were wearing.

From the very start the Falls were stunning and the thunderous water ran for miles. The more we got into them, the more my

senses were stimulated. Finally, after more than an hour of walking, we came to the part of the Falls where we were actually almost touching them and getting completely drenched.

I just stood there transfixed by their thunder and might, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a strange thought came into my mind. It hit me that this would be a marvelous place to commit suicide if one wanted to go in a dramatic and colorful way. Your body would never be found, and you could avoid funeral expenses.

I think I was psychically picking up something in the air because Ramon, our Sunday guide, told me that it had happened numerous times in those parts of the falls, but it was mostly Argentinians who decide to end it all.

MY ENDORPHIN OUTBURST

The energy emitted in that part of the falls stimulated the endorphins (the happy chemicals) in my brain so much that I just couldn't hold it in any longer and let out a shout of "Oh my God!" so loud that, thank God, nobody heard me because of the thunderous sound of the Falls.

It was my good luck that Elcirene had my I-phone camera while taking pictures, and captured my shout at the moment that it took place.

The emotional release was so intense, that all bodily pain from the heavy walking went away, and I felt like I was completely renewed, body, mind and soul. This incredibly wonderful feeling lasted for the rest of the day.

We all left the Brazilian falls exhausted, but ecstatic with the energy and beauty experienced there.

Our last stop was a bird sanctuary where we experienced a spectacular Macaw parrot fight of about ten Macaws trying to take over one branch of a tree that left us cracking-up with laughter at the sight of it all. It reminded me of the ridiculous fights of our world leaders with each other.

A BOLT OUT OF THE BLUE

After the Bird Sanctuary, while our group was getting into the van to be taken back to our hotels, Claudio came up to me holding my passport and asked me in amazement if I was an American citizen because, if I was, I had to have a visa to cross the border tomorrow, Sunday, into Argentina to visit that side of the Falls. I did not have a visa because the travel agency in Rio had not told me that I needed one, and I was furious! Elcirene, being Brazilian, did not need a visa.

Claudio was stunned, and maybe even embarrassed because, all during the trip, he thought I was from Latin America since we spoke to each other in Spanish. He had angrily put down the U.S., to our tour group, on our way to the Falls. He had told us that the U.S. had asked the Brazilian government, after the World Trade Center attacks, to permit U.S. intelligence to monitor the activities of the Muslim community that lived near the Falls. The Brazilian government refused to allow this.

I had noticed his extreme U.S. resentment, but didn't say anything because I figured he would eventually find out that I was an American by my passport that he kept all during our stops. I figured that it would be a great lesson to him, in the way he conducted his tours, not to go around insulting Americans nor other nationalities.

Claudio's attitude towards me changed when I told him that, yes, I was an American, and that I was furious, not at his company, but at the travel agency in Rio that had sold me the Sunday trip to the Argentinian Falls. They should have known that I needed a visa for Argentina, and I would have had time to go to the Argentinian consulate in Rio to get one.

Claudio, now that he knew the truth about me, almost seemed happy at my dilemma. I was glad when a female guide, who was accompanying him, told me that I didn't have to miss the excursion into the Argentinian Falls tomorrow.

She advised me to go quickly, as soon as we arrived at our hotel, into the hotel's computer and enter the Argentinian consulate's website where, for a cost of $175, and a $30 emergency transaction fee, I would be immediately given a visa that would permit me to enter Argentina for ten years.

I was feeling really down and angry when I walked into the hotel lobby cussing up a storm in Spanish. Elcirene, to calm me down, in a humorous way, added a few expletives of her own in Portuguese. Amazed, I seriously looked at her and, finally, burst out laughing. I didn't think she had it in her.

I told Elcirene that she might have to take the tour by herself the next day. She replied that no way would she go without me.

I was fortunate that the hotel manager gave me a computer-savvy employee to help me get the visa. I did cringe when I realized that the trip the next day would cost me an extra 195 American dollars that included the $30 emergency fee.

I almost didn't go because of that added expense, but realized that I didn't want Elcirene to miss that experience by staying all day with me in the hotel. I too was eager to see the other side of the Falls that we had heard were even more spectacular. Besides, I had planned to travel to Buenos Aires some day soon to see that charming city of the tango, and with the visa that I would acquire, I had ten years to do so.

THE ARGENTINIAN FALLS

When we crossed the border into Argentina, I was so relieved that my visa had been accepted, and felt a joy when I started to hear Spanish being spoken by all those in charge of that side of the Falls. My mouth and head had recently been feeling swollen from all my efforts to speak and understand Portuguese.

The Argentinian Falls were, to me, just as impressive as the Brazilian, but in other ways. They had their own particular beauty and majesty.

One thing that I highly regret is that I missed the last part of the tour-walk escorted by our most handsome and charming guide, Ramon, because I was just too pooped after the tremendous amount of walking that it took to get to the Fall trails and eventually the Falls.

The last tour-walk took place after a big lunch at a restaurant in the park that offered a delicious Argentinian churrasco buffet. I realized that I should have gone on that tour after Elcirene told me how magical and exciting it all was.

For this last walk they would actually be climbing steep and endless stairs amidst a jungle background filled with monkeys, and thundering waterfalls.

I waited for our group at the pleasant rest and eating area of the park, and when Ramon came to get me to join our group again, and showed me stunning photos of their experience, I was even more frustrated at myself for what I missed. But, when I heard Elcirene tell me about it with such glee, and saw the radiance on her face, I felt overjoyed! I realized that she would carry the memory of that tour forever in her heart, and had the photos to share with her family and friends.

A BONDING

A spiritual and beautiful event happened between Elcirene and me when we got back to our hotel room from the Argentine Falls. As we were both sitting on the edge of our beds talking about our Iguazu experiences, and me eating a delicious piece of chocolate cake that I had stolen from the dining room during breakfast that morning, tears suddenly started flowing down Elcirene's cheeks. I asked her in my poor Portuguese why she was crying, and, I'm not exactly sure what she answered, but I did understand the words "grateful to you Betina!" Then I captured the following words, "you have been a blessing sent by God to illuminate my life!" because she spoke them so "devagar" (slowly), that I understood her perfectly.

Touched by what she said, I went over to the edge of her bed where she was sitting, and held her. I tried to say in Portuguese, "It's okay to cry. Crying is good for the soul," but the language failed me. All that came out was exactly the opposite, "Don't cry child, don't cry!" "Chore nao filha - Chore nao!"

I felt so frustrated at not being able to tell her exactly what I wanted to say, that I turned to God, and mentally asked him to bless His child, Elcirene, and to put in my mouth, in her language, the words that He wanted me to say to her - to inspire me on how to comfort her. I wished that she understood Spanish.

I knew in those moments that there are no accidents in life, and that God had put Elcirene on my life-path for a very special reason.  I felt so much love for her at that moment, and realized how fortunate I was to have met her, my new-found friend, at a stage in my life where I found it so exhausting to make new friends. But she was such a gentle creature, and so easy to love, that I felt a lovely glow in my heart.

After that I went back to finishing the chocolate cake that I was snacking on, and Elcirene, after washing her face, came back to continue our conversation. But, deep in my heart, I knew that a special door had been opened, and that I had been given by the Universe, once again, the gift of a friend. 
 

THE CEMETERY

On my final day in Rio, since my plane was leaving at night, Merces asked me what I wanted to see before I left. Both she and Elcirene were taken aback when I told them that I wanted to see an old cemetery. She didn't know that I loved to visit cemeteries of cities that I traveled to, especially old ones like Rio. In shock she took me, by taxi, to the cemetery of Sao Joao Batista located in the district of Botafogo.

No visitor had ever asked Merces to see a cemetery before, but she knew that I had always been eccentric, ever since she met me, and loved me more because of it. Elcirene didn't know what to make of it, and looked spooked out in the taxi on the way to the cemetery. But she soon would change her mind.

We all were amazed at the beautiful but ostentatious sculptures honoring the dead that we saw in the aisles of tombs at the Sao Joao Batista cemetery. It was genuinely a fascinating

place to visit almost like the iconic Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris that is the resting place of so many world-famous individuals.

  

I found it so interesting that a favela was located on top of the mountain facing the cemetery. The sight left me pondering of those favela residents up there who could never afford to be

buried here, but then, in a higher reality, it hit me that they might be souls of great 'light' who had chosen to be born poor for some reason that only those in higher spiritual dimensions could understand.

 We found the burial site of Alberto Santos Dumont who is considered the inventor of the airplane, even before the Wright Brothers flew their contraption at Kitty Hawk.

Antonio Carlos Jobim, who wrote The Girl From Ipanema, and Carmen Miranda were also interred there as well as many other famous Brazilian singers, and ten Brazilian presidents. 

Before we left the cemetery, Merces saw the Corcovado Christ way out there on the horizon. Its sight was almost mystical, and  felt like it was blessing, not only the dead interred there, but all the Cariocas going about their activities in the magical "cidade maravilosa" of Rio de Janeiro.

Tourists don't know about the cemetery of Sao Joao Batista, and they should.

MY FAREWELL

I wanted to cry when I hugged Merces and Elcirene good bye at the airport. I knew that I would see Merces again, but was not sure of Elcirene. She would soon be going back to her village, and I prayed that she would have the courage to let go of her 'situation' there, and venture to new beginnings soon before she lost her courage. I noticed that when she came back to Rio from the Iguazu Falls, her personality and facial semblance had changed. She was more playful and her face glowed with happiness. The sadness was gone.

  

FINAL WORDS

In closing I want to say "obrigada"and a special thank you to my beloved friend and "sister," Merces, who so generously let me stay a month in her love-filled, dusty apartment. Obrigada too for  bestowing me her bed and bedroom while she slept on a couch in her living room, and who, to my absolute delight, fed me "sorvete" (icecream) almost every night.

Obrigada Merces for all the years of friendship that we've shared together. What a blessing you are to anyone who has you as a friend.

And lastly, Obrigada to my Creator for putting all of those beautiful souls on my life's path who, through their caring hearts, showed me the power of God's love in my life.