We woke up late, enjoyed Carnaval, went to bed early, repeated, jumped off a tall waterfall, made friends, watched Rafa run Anaconda, drove, dropped Jesse and Rafa at the bus station, drove, continued driving, and eventually went kayaking.
With our single CD continuing on repeat anytime the car was on, there are a few lines that are sticking with me, which is surprising, considering how often and how much important information slips through my fragile memory.
Another piece of gold from our single mix CD: "More than a hustla, I'm the definition of it, master chef, Lord of the kitchen cupboard, more than a street legend, homey it's Hova."
Hova: short for Jehovah, Jay-Z, or any other non-deity you can imagine rhyming these lines with the lyrical swagger that possibly only self-proclaiming saviors possess.
So you're here to save the world? What do you say to something like that?
Maybe you don't subscribe to something holy like that mentioned above and find more in exploration and the cyclical nature of things, to be as vague as possible.
I like what T.S. Eliot had to say:“We shall not cease from exploration/and the end of all our exploring/ will be to arrive where we started/and know the place for the first time.”
So there we were, driving across the plains of central Brazil, feeling a bit less like explorers of the wild than soy fanatics on tour when we stopped at a small towns prefetura to ask for directions. They turned us towards a few waterfalls and even provided locals to call to help us find our way.
Soy lovers rejoice, but bring a local to lead you through the maze. This could have been the fourth time at this spot, but may as well have been the first as far as we could tell.
Ben, two steps from the driver's seat, measures the falls.
I don't use 'missed' lightly either.
Sometimes sun, warm water, and a light breeze can make you do silly things.
Ben, excited after the prefect line and to hear the cheers from downstream.
The impoverished, impishly cute children are just out of frame.
The beautiful Cachoeira Abobada.
Finding the falls way too tall to paddle, but wanting to milk as much as possible after a short hike I tried swimming all the way out to it. About halfway there I heard yelling and looked at the beach to see the local guides frantically waving me back.
Safe back on the beach after being warned of the 6 meter sucari, or anaconda, in the pool.
Hm, I think we've been here before...