Babies everywhere

As most of you probably know, I’m not a kid person (unless we are talking about goats). I prefer that they stay put far far away but for some reason, they have been showing up everywhere this week: in the form of pregnant mothers, tyrant toddlers, and screeching babies. In fact, I think I was assaulted by a two year old. I was waiting at the house of one of my contacts when a suspicious looking child approached me with his metal toy truck. Something about him, I knew he was trouble. He started ramming his truck into my legs over and over again as I leered at him and his mother beseeched him to behave. Then he threw his truck down, wheels facing up, and pretended to light it on fire, simulating the accompanying explosions. I was wondering how he could act out match-lighting so well. That’s when his mother explained to me that one day he had gotten a hold of the matches and threw a lit match at his father, which caused his shirt to catch on fire. Maybe it’s just me, but that’s a clear sign that you have a veritable Damian on your hands. I tried ignoring him until he crawled over to me and lifted up my skirt! His mother did her normal “Stop that, hun!” and he did his normal ignoring of everything she said. By this time I was giving him the evil eye so he decided to sit next to me and ask what all the objects in my hair were. Then he asked if they were edible, obviously not interested in an answer as he stuck one of them, dreadlock and all, in his mouth. As I deterred him from eating my hair (that’s what my cat always would tried to do and it really would creep me out), he then turned to my arm and tried to take a bite out of it, telling me afterwards that it was very “gostoso.” That’s Portuguese for “pleasing” or “good-tasting.” I try to block out the images of the little cannibal. It’s a miracle I managed to escape from there in one piece and I can say that I will NEVER be going back.

Meanwhile, bathrooms are still not being built as I’m having a materials crisis. I have one week to construct ten dry latrines. Not to add even more pressure but I was informed today that the national news station wants to do a report on my town and their work with cisterns and latrines. Why I was chosen, I’m still not sure but I have a whole project to turn around in a matter of a couple of days. Somehow, getting things done with an ever-lingering language barrier, an “it will get done tomorrow” work ethic, and weather patterns that do a good job of holding up my material trucks, makes the task that much more…infuri—interesting. So I’m just chill’n, knee deep in latrine stuff…literally…with only a prayer to save me. Of course there is solace…I can’t get fired because I’m not getting paid! But the fact that I have no idea what I’m doing since construction was never a subject of mine in college and that miscommunication seems to be the word of the week, I’m humbled into a state of incompetence. Not used to that. I guess it builds character.

And of course, it wouldn’t be a Maya blog without an animal excerpt. There’s so many that I always have to choose. I was a couple feet from the biggest snake I’ve ever seen close up. It was at least 2 meters long and had the diameter of my fist. Its jet blackened body slithered across my path, taking the time to acknowledge me, and disappeared into the brush. With all the stories of poisonous snakes killing farmers, I’d prefer not to run into my little reptilian friend again. I like the ones that have legs, hence my dream of being the proud parent of an iguana someday. Meanwhile, across town, I ran into a frog that was walking on its hind legs. I was headed down the road at night, about to pick up a rock to scare away the dog that was barking and running towards me when I noticed that my rock started moving. I shined the flashlight to witness a frog get up from its sitting position and stand on its back legs. Then, for reasons I will never know, it started walking—not hopping. Is that normal? Do I just not know anything about frogs? Why was it walking? And why have I never seen one walking during the day. They are all over the place. When I got back to where I was staying, I was greeted by the latest member of the family, a wild baby bunny that had fallen into the cistern hole. The host sister kept chasing after it with a knife, threatening to make stew. While she claims she was kidding, I’ll be interested in knowing this rabbit’s whereabouts in about a year. I picked it up and after it had sufficiently peed on me, it calmed down. I put him (or her—no one has been able to tell the sex of the creature) on my shoulder and witnessed him climb up my head with the help of my dreadlocks. He perched himself on top of my head and contented himself to stay there for 30 minutes as I watched one of these horrible soap operas with the rest of the family. I will hopefully be able to put up pics next week (along with some of the random dance shots I found).

Speaking of soap operas, I thought American television was bad but Brazilian TV is abominable. The acting is awful, the humor borders on stupidity, and if I thought American shows were racially biased, Brazilian shows take the taco. As I have been stressing in my blog, Brazil is the most impressive country in the world in terms of racial make-up, but as I have also been hinting at, it has a long way to go in racial equality, and this ineptitude manifests itself in many ways. One of the most visual manifestations is the use of the media. While the country is a hodgepodge of ethnic groups, their equivalent of Hollywood does an excellent job of whitewashing their characters and relegating most of their black and Native American (when they are represented) characters to maids and porters. While I’m in the Northeast with its beautiful shades, Brazilian TV practically feigns the same tired monotony for which American TV has been criticized. It’s amazing how class dictates experience and perception. However, as I endure the same problems that shape America, I realize that these aren’t isolated incidents because the same scenario repeats itself across the globe. If not because of race or economic status, than because of religion or caste, often so intertwined that one fails to name the culprit. But I will leave these ramblings to another time.

However, don’t confuse this quick look into the underbelly of society, albeit a superficial one when you consider the greater problems that face Brasil, with a reason to not love this country. I’m still having an amazing time, even if I’m working on the most challenging project of my life.

Stay tuned for more crazy and not so crazy stories!