We hopped in a taxi, not expecting anything amiss. We had a pleasant ride on the way from the airport, trying to find a hostel. It's lovely, many people have no reason or obligation to talk to you, but taxi drivers... they are an awesome opportunity to practice language skills, and a chance to learn details about the city, so at first I asked him leading questions, and eventually he started to point things out as they came. That was the first half... It got more stressful when we actually tried to get a hostel. I had the name of a great hostel, but we hadn't reserved it yet through a failure of communication between my dad and I. We went in, very expectantly. We came out defeatedly. From thne on came a wild goose chase trying to find lodging that fit all of our rigourous requirements.
My parents and I both wanted something cheapish, and they were at first looking at hotels, but after the second one was over 250$ a night, they soon dropped that idea. They also wanted a private room which exists in some hostels, but is much more rare. I was soon tasked with explaining these stipulations to the soon very confused taxi driver. "so... you want a hotel room, but in a hostel???" was his basic question. It was a valid question, as we began searching for hostels high and low in the area for the next half hour. I finally went for my backup, another hostel in a different region of Rio, so we started to drive there. By this point, the taxi driver was so exasperated, so done with us, that he even offered a place at his daughters house, something which was a mix of really nice and a little creepy. (Given that I have found myself overprotective of my parents, I opted against it.)
We checked it out, and lo and behold it had a private room, so the hostel in Botafogo was soon our new home.
My feet were a bit swollen from mosquito bites, almost crippling me to the point that I could only walk with pain. It was the first real time I had experienced that, so we went to the nearby health point, and they provided us with some anti inflammatory and anti allergy medication. It made walking an action of the past, and instead I was forced to limp around.
I would call my parents a little bit eccentric at times. Based on our next choice of activity, that felt well deserved. We decided to go visit the local graveyard of all places. We were in there nary a second, when I noticed a mosquito with white legs. For all you who haven't been there, specifically the anopheles mosquito with white legs is the one that carries dengue fever, which believe me, you do not want to have. As soon as I saw this, I ran to the local pharmacy and veritably slathered myself with bug repellant.
\
The next day we actually had a lot of fun. We went to the world famous botanical gardens, and it was definitely different from the majority of botanical gardens I had been to. It was more of a forest than a garden per se, but it was certainly pretty. There were also several different environments in the same park with forests transforming into mountains into streams into lakes.
We spent a few hours walking around the botanical gardens, but strangely, the unofficial exhibit outside was a bit more exciting to me. We had noticed on the way the huge array of graffiti on the walls nearby. It was amazing. It stretched for approximately a mile, and it was solid graffiti. One canvas stepped into another. The texture of the wall was rich, with layers of paint over chipped layers of paint. Some of the pieces were decent, some of them were good, and some were the type where I was willing to step in the middle of a busy street and take pictures of. It was probably the most impressive display of graffiti I had ever seen.
***** warning, graphic verbal imagery ahead, proceed at your own risk*****
I slowly did not feel so great. That night, I started to feel a pretty severe headache that night, but didn't make too much of it. Popped some ibuprofen, and figured it would go away. It didn't. Slowly, gradually and insidiously, the illness/headache/ whatever it was, got worse. I began to feel warmer and colder in waves, and I was like, "That's probably not a good sign." Then, it was the next day, and we had the great idea of going to museums.
I tried coconut water to fix my problems, as many of my friends assured me that this was a great hangover cure. It sadly did not suffice. We went into the history of Brazil museum, and for me, since I love history, this was awesome. I got to see the different trends in history from the different piles of waste that revealed clues about their culture to the cannibal tribes of northern brazil. I was far more familiar with the later colonial area, but it was great to learn about both. However, something was slightly affecting my visit. I thought at first it was an itch in my eye, but it started to soon feel much more like a radiating headache. I quickly realized that it was a pain behind my eyes, and I soon realized what I probably had. All semester, we had been warned about dengue fever, and the symptom of pain behind the eyes was almost singular to dengue fever.
I got steadily worse, bedridden for several days. The worst thing, or maybe one of the worse things was that I was so out of it that I could not even focus enough to watch tv. Acai, probably the greatest thing in creation, is a shake packed with super blueberry like things and a mixture of honey, ice and guarana. However, even this and the chicken soup my parents prepared wasn't enough.
I personally value my sleep quite highly, so when it was 3 am and I still couldn't sleep, I was troubled. I was more troubled when I felt the incoming symptoms of nausea. By the next night, when I couldn't hold down water, gatorade (which smells particularly gross) and anything else, I knew I had a problem. Wrapped in my blanket and lugging along a tray, I slumped over to my parents bedroom and knocked on their door. Obviously taken aback at being woken up at like 3 am, they concluded that I deserved to be in the hospital, so off I went.
I haven't felt that childlike, that vulnerable, in a long time. I was literally curled up on my mothers lap for the hour or two we waited in the waiting room.
Eventually I was called in and we had an iv inserted into me to get some liquids flowing. I got medications for the various treatments, and after a couple more unpleasant days of resting (when I should have been exploring Rio), I was essentially better.
***grossness done, you can resume reading if you skipped ahead***
Some funny stories from my parents while I was bedridden. One of the better ones was while they tried to switch lodgings. The cultural interpretation for motel is very different in Brazil as compared to the US, and they didn't really know the difference (or speak good portuguese for that matter). They were trying to ask the prices at one place, and they got the sense that the people did not want them to stay there for some reason. My parents were a bit befuddled at that, because after all, who doesn't want patrons. The staff tried to say that generally the clientele were a bit different, but my parents still did not understand. They asked how much the rooms were per week, and the motel instead said that it was an hourly rate. You see, motels in Brazil are entirely devoted to sex, and an elderly couple, (especially an American one that didn't speak good portuguese) was likely at a state of confusion. I laughed at them when they came back.
Another one was when they were trying to go to yet another museum, but they were told that nope, that was a bad area to go to. When they asked why, the staff replied that there was a riot scheduled for that area later during the day.
We toured the big statue thing on the final day in Rio, and even though it was foggy, it was still pretty awesome. My biggest impression from it was that the statue was HUGE. There was a mini church inside of it. It felt touristy with every one craning to get that fb profile picture, but then again, when in Rio.... you kinda gotta visit the statue that is virtually synonymous with Rio de Janiero. After dinner, we went walking along the famous beach of Ipanema, which was full of people working out.
And with just one day in Salvador after that (which we spent on the beach), and a night where we satisfied our urges for gluttony at a churrascaria (the all you can eat meat places), my trip was done. Feels weird to be actually done after so long in motion, speaking portuguese and everything, but the dengue really helped me to want to go back home.
And to the reader. Sorry for the late last post, I was engrossed in research and real life concerns. Thanks for sticking with me, through both the high and the low. If you ever want any advice on the places that I traveled feel free to email me at jasperwerby@gmail.com
So in the end, I did make it back after all.
My parents and I both wanted something cheapish, and they were at first looking at hotels, but after the second one was over 250$ a night, they soon dropped that idea. They also wanted a private room which exists in some hostels, but is much more rare. I was soon tasked with explaining these stipulations to the soon very confused taxi driver. "so... you want a hotel room, but in a hostel???" was his basic question. It was a valid question, as we began searching for hostels high and low in the area for the next half hour. I finally went for my backup, another hostel in a different region of Rio, so we started to drive there. By this point, the taxi driver was so exasperated, so done with us, that he even offered a place at his daughters house, something which was a mix of really nice and a little creepy. (Given that I have found myself overprotective of my parents, I opted against it.)
We checked it out, and lo and behold it had a private room, so the hostel in Botafogo was soon our new home.
My feet were a bit swollen from mosquito bites, almost crippling me to the point that I could only walk with pain. It was the first real time I had experienced that, so we went to the nearby health point, and they provided us with some anti inflammatory and anti allergy medication. It made walking an action of the past, and instead I was forced to limp around.
I would call my parents a little bit eccentric at times. Based on our next choice of activity, that felt well deserved. We decided to go visit the local graveyard of all places. We were in there nary a second, when I noticed a mosquito with white legs. For all you who haven't been there, specifically the anopheles mosquito with white legs is the one that carries dengue fever, which believe me, you do not want to have. As soon as I saw this, I ran to the local pharmacy and veritably slathered myself with bug repellant.
\
Apparently, someone wanted to drink with another person beyond the grave
The next day we actually had a lot of fun. We went to the world famous botanical gardens, and it was definitely different from the majority of botanical gardens I had been to. It was more of a forest than a garden per se, but it was certainly pretty. There were also several different environments in the same park with forests transforming into mountains into streams into lakes.
We spent a few hours walking around the botanical gardens, but strangely, the unofficial exhibit outside was a bit more exciting to me. We had noticed on the way the huge array of graffiti on the walls nearby. It was amazing. It stretched for approximately a mile, and it was solid graffiti. One canvas stepped into another. The texture of the wall was rich, with layers of paint over chipped layers of paint. Some of the pieces were decent, some of them were good, and some were the type where I was willing to step in the middle of a busy street and take pictures of. It was probably the most impressive display of graffiti I had ever seen.
meta grafitti, graffiti of someone doing graffiti
***** warning, graphic verbal imagery ahead, proceed at your own risk*****
I slowly did not feel so great. That night, I started to feel a pretty severe headache that night, but didn't make too much of it. Popped some ibuprofen, and figured it would go away. It didn't. Slowly, gradually and insidiously, the illness/headache/ whatever it was, got worse. I began to feel warmer and colder in waves, and I was like, "That's probably not a good sign." Then, it was the next day, and we had the great idea of going to museums.
I tried coconut water to fix my problems, as many of my friends assured me that this was a great hangover cure. It sadly did not suffice. We went into the history of Brazil museum, and for me, since I love history, this was awesome. I got to see the different trends in history from the different piles of waste that revealed clues about their culture to the cannibal tribes of northern brazil. I was far more familiar with the later colonial area, but it was great to learn about both. However, something was slightly affecting my visit. I thought at first it was an itch in my eye, but it started to soon feel much more like a radiating headache. I quickly realized that it was a pain behind my eyes, and I soon realized what I probably had. All semester, we had been warned about dengue fever, and the symptom of pain behind the eyes was almost singular to dengue fever.
I got steadily worse, bedridden for several days. The worst thing, or maybe one of the worse things was that I was so out of it that I could not even focus enough to watch tv. Acai, probably the greatest thing in creation, is a shake packed with super blueberry like things and a mixture of honey, ice and guarana. However, even this and the chicken soup my parents prepared wasn't enough.
I personally value my sleep quite highly, so when it was 3 am and I still couldn't sleep, I was troubled. I was more troubled when I felt the incoming symptoms of nausea. By the next night, when I couldn't hold down water, gatorade (which smells particularly gross) and anything else, I knew I had a problem. Wrapped in my blanket and lugging along a tray, I slumped over to my parents bedroom and knocked on their door. Obviously taken aback at being woken up at like 3 am, they concluded that I deserved to be in the hospital, so off I went.
I haven't felt that childlike, that vulnerable, in a long time. I was literally curled up on my mothers lap for the hour or two we waited in the waiting room.
As my dad helpfully pointed out, it meant that I had yet another perspective on the Brazilian healthcare system
Eventually I was called in and we had an iv inserted into me to get some liquids flowing. I got medications for the various treatments, and after a couple more unpleasant days of resting (when I should have been exploring Rio), I was essentially better.
***grossness done, you can resume reading if you skipped ahead***
Some funny stories from my parents while I was bedridden. One of the better ones was while they tried to switch lodgings. The cultural interpretation for motel is very different in Brazil as compared to the US, and they didn't really know the difference (or speak good portuguese for that matter). They were trying to ask the prices at one place, and they got the sense that the people did not want them to stay there for some reason. My parents were a bit befuddled at that, because after all, who doesn't want patrons. The staff tried to say that generally the clientele were a bit different, but my parents still did not understand. They asked how much the rooms were per week, and the motel instead said that it was an hourly rate. You see, motels in Brazil are entirely devoted to sex, and an elderly couple, (especially an American one that didn't speak good portuguese) was likely at a state of confusion. I laughed at them when they came back.
Another one was when they were trying to go to yet another museum, but they were told that nope, that was a bad area to go to. When they asked why, the staff replied that there was a riot scheduled for that area later during the day.
We toured the big statue thing on the final day in Rio, and even though it was foggy, it was still pretty awesome. My biggest impression from it was that the statue was HUGE. There was a mini church inside of it. It felt touristy with every one craning to get that fb profile picture, but then again, when in Rio.... you kinda gotta visit the statue that is virtually synonymous with Rio de Janiero. After dinner, we went walking along the famous beach of Ipanema, which was full of people working out.
And with just one day in Salvador after that (which we spent on the beach), and a night where we satisfied our urges for gluttony at a churrascaria (the all you can eat meat places), my trip was done. Feels weird to be actually done after so long in motion, speaking portuguese and everything, but the dengue really helped me to want to go back home.
And to the reader. Sorry for the late last post, I was engrossed in research and real life concerns. Thanks for sticking with me, through both the high and the low. If you ever want any advice on the places that I traveled feel free to email me at jasperwerby@gmail.com
So in the end, I did make it back after all.
