A Very Special Day

September 13, 2005
Salvador da Bahia – At Last

We have arrived!! What more is there to say, but adrenaline and excitement fill me as I look out my porthole to the glare of the sun on the water, and the city, like a miniature New York skyline, draped over the tropical landscape.

Heather writes, “Wow! My first impression of Brazil as I awoke this morning was as if I were looking at the New York skyline from a distance. The sun was still rising, painting a backdrop of watercolors behind the black silhouette of the skyscrapers. What a site! Of course every city has a certain charm from a distance that is lost when you are only mere feet away. Yes, it has blackened buildings, and crumbling walls, but there are also little gems of colonial architecture spread throughout the city like the raisins in the cinnamon bread I eat for breakfast. Every once in a while something sweet and surprising bursts into view full of color and wonder. It is strange to compare the various places I have been, where most have nestled houses on the hills. It is different here, very green, and the houses are perched like regal thrones at the crest of the rising knolls.”

The blue envelope I placed on my nightstand last night greeted me this morning with warm wishes. From Mom and Dad, a “plan-ahead” that was probably the best idea for this trip – bringing cards from home with marked dates to open – was the cutest card I have ever seen. A clear, frosted bottle complete with impervious cork, and a scroll of parchment. It is now hanging on my wall by means of a magnet and I could not have wished for a more perfect card here below the equator. Perhaps I could find myself stranding on some small beach and send it home via Atlantic current, then again it is made of paper so I have some skepticism as to whether it would make it in one piece. Most likely it would be no more than fleshy pulp minced by the breakers of the open sea.

Heather writes, “I opened my second card of the voyage this morning and I think it is perhaps the cutest card I have ever seen and certainly very appropriate. The message in a bottle was so special and it made me feel as if perhaps it had floated on the tides all the way from mom and dad. It really does look like a glass bottle with a yellowed piece of parchment inside. Thanks for making me smile, and of course I will put the one-dollar to good use – postage is exactly one dollar or two and a half reals so you bought the postage for your postcard. Obrigado. That’s thank you, for the cute card and the email that we received this morning.”

Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:

We went up to the seventh deck to take some pictures this morning and could not help noticing the blue of the water, which incidentally was very calm, and the beautiful little harbor with various makes of boats, of course there were catamarans. We have dressed today in our lightest clothes, khaki shorts and white t-shirts in observance of Candomble rituals, which we will attend later this afternoon.

I was surprised to find one of the staff members dressed in complete highland garb playing a bagpipe on the seventh deck. I do not know if there is some ritual behind this, but it was extremely difficult not to cry. It was eerie and beautiful with the sun bleaching the deck in yellow light and diffused warmth. I have thought about today for several days now, knowing that it was the four-month anniversary of Nana’s passing and hearing those bagpipes, the Highland Cathedral, felt almost like homage to her and her memory. I felt as if she were standing right there with me and was glad of the small weight around my neck, and over my heart that is her soul and love.

Megan writes, “We took the opportunity to see the panorama of Brazil on the open deck. After several photos of the marina, skyline and us, of course, a bagpiper dressed in tartan garb began meandering about the forward deck to the rhythm of Scottish tunes. I had heard a bagpiper on our departure from Venezuela, but had not really thought anything of it at the time. It was such a surprise to see him performing, what I assume, to be a typical and daily ritual for our arrivals in port. I couldn’t help think as I stood there consuming the images of the Brazilian coast and talking with several faculty and adult passengers that today is four months since Nana passed away and like at her funeral, a bagpiper was playing Scottish hymns. Her urn around my neck, I couldn’t help but hold back tears. Needless to say, it is the perfect beginning for our stay here in Brazil.”

Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:

After breakfast, and chatting with Betty and Bob we went to the computer lab to print out a letter for Ashley. We hope to be able to purchase stamps, postcards, and some envelops nearby as we have quite a few Venezuelan postcards to send home.

On a side note, I have to make such observations as they come to me; Heather and I have been fortunate enough to have wonderful passengers aboard. It always seem, not matter what trip we are on, that adult passengers offer to take a photo of us together. Again, this is just a reflection, and I am thrilled to have such superb acquaintances and friends on board who help us in our duality capture these memories. Thanks to all of you who make us smile.

After going through immigrations this morning, which is quite more detailed than Venezuela, I am ready to relax a couple hours, perhaps work on my first paper, and then head out around one o’clock for a glimpse around the port terminal and then the Afro-Brazilian and Candomble festivities at two o’clock. The officials want to see everyone face-to-face and stamp each passport at that time so imagine about seven hundred students lined up for the process. It worked well and was quite expedient. Now I can disembark.

Heather writes, “We had immigrations this morning at around ten o’clock and went through the process like a breeze. The lines were quite long, but thanks to the organization of semester at sea it was a piece of cake. We now have an official stamp in our passports from Brazil, and as I look at it I wonder at the haphazardness with which the stamps are placed – usually in any open space and in no order with the visas and such.”

Heather and I enjoyed lunch on the back deck with an adult passenger. We enjoyed the comfort of the outdoors and eating outside for the first time; Salvador feet away over the railing and students disembarking for their travels.

Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:

We had lunch after the diplomatic briefing and lounged around the ship for about an hour before our scheduled field program. Megan and I had lunch outside on the deck and it was a nice treat to sit in the sun, bask in the Brazilian rays, and relax. We looked out the window in our cabin to see several Brazilian women in traditional dress welcoming the students to Salvador. They were also distributing ribbons, which hopefully they will still be there when we disembark at one thirty. The ribbons have a special meaning as the wearer is supposed to make a wish. When the ribbon falls off and breaks free the wish comes true.

We left the ship around one thirty for our Afro-Brazilian Museum visit and Candomble House. After boarding the tour bus we made our way into the upper city and Pelourinho. The streets were very narrow and quite steep, barely able to squeeze two buses together. The Afro-Brazilian Museum was located in the center of Pelourinho around a beautiful little square bustling with vendors. I think what I like most about Brazil is how the old meets the new. It took me all day to think about what is so appealing about the city, and I think it would have to be that it feels very much like some tropical exotic place, overgrown with palms and vines and verdant foliage of the deepest greens, spanning stone buildings, creeping up walls and peeking through cobblestones. It was almost as if I had walked into some ancient civilization that was built over with colonial architecture and forgotten for another millennia.

The Afro-Brazilian Museum had such a surprising variety of African arts that I know Megan was totally immersed in her world. Among other things they had gelede masks, akua-ba figures (my personal favorite), Asante ceremonial staffs, Ibeji figures (another favorite), and gold weights. One of the many rooms was dedicated to the Candomble orishas, which have roots in the African Yoruba culture. Carybe, an artist, sculpted the many orishas in long wooden planks. The detail was absolutely incredible. Of course there was an Ibeji piece with the twin figures and I told Megan that we should get a picture of us with it. One of the adults on the trip, who happens to be the wife of one of our professors offered to take the photo, and before we knew it Megan and I were the main attraction. I think everybody in our group snapped a shot. I bet my cheeks turned bright red, but it was so much fun. I wondered when the twin thing would start to be played up in the ports and never expected or thought about it happening in Brazil. And that was certainly not the end.

Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:

After finally disembarking we headed with our tour group to the Afro-Brazilian museum. To my shock and utter excitement the first pieces visible were gelede masks from the Yoruba. I feel like I am back in Washington D.C. making my monthly visits to the National Museum of African Art. I have never seen so many intricate, beautiful, colorful, complex gelede masks. As this museum is relaxed and not the stuffy atmosphere of many American museums, most pieces were merely displayed, no glass Vitrine. In addition, photography was widely permitted. Yes Dad, I can now show you some of my favorite masks, although Chi-wara still remains my favorite. They had a couple other masks, including Bogo, as well as Asante gold weights, Fan linguist staffs, Kuba ndop, Asante Akua-ba, Yoruba Ibeji figures, and Kuba cut-pile raffia. Never have I felt so intimate and at ease with the art.

We were lectured on the Candomble beliefs and orishas to which most of the information I had previously learned. I felt like a private tour guide among the group. Candomble is largely based in Yoruba beliefs. Here in Brazil it is combined with the Angola-Congo, Ghana, and Caboclo cultures.

Perhaps the most wonderful part of the museum was the wooden panels covering the entire third room. Each was a carving of an orisha like Yemanja (yes I was incorrect as to the spelling in a previous blog), Ogun, Shango/Xango, Ibeji, and many many more. I loved the detailed of these pieces and took lots of pictures. The Ibeji panel was particularly fabulous and after an adult passenger inquired if we wanted our picture with the artwork, we found ourselves becoming part of the museum collection. No sooner had she snapped a photo than every other person on the tour visit began taking his or her own shots. I had no idea Ibeji was so largely recognized and celebrated outside Africa. If I really do write my undergraduate honors thesis on some element of these special figures, what wonderful material and insight I will be able to contribute from first hand experiences.

Heather writes, “After the museum we walked down, literally because you could have fallen down it was so steep, the cobbled road to the bus. I think I could have bought one of everything as we passed the shops. There were some really beautiful paintings of Pelourinho that I think would look absolutely wonderful in the new kitchen because they are so bright and animated. I hope that we see some at the craft market in a couple of days, though I know that other students have mentioned that they are everywhere.”

After leaving the museum we walked through Pelourinho, the many crafts and paintings reminding me of Caribbean markets we have visited. Some of the paintings were really beautiful and I might have a weak moment when I go to the Mercado Modelo in a couple days. The streets we steep and cobbled, actually quite bumpy, but with a special charm.

Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:

I did not get a ribbon today for my wrist but I know that I got something much better. Shortly after boarding the bus we arrived at the Candomble House, small brightly painted buildings spread out amongst leafy growth and towering trees. It is so green here. The ground was covered in sand and a small group of boys were playing soccer.

Megan writes, “We boarded the tour bus and headed to the Candomble house. Never would I have been prepared for this element of the visit. At first I was amazed at the community within the Candomble, boys playing soccer, women working on textiles, and the priestess welcoming us to her house. The grounds were covered in sand and scattered with colorful leaves from the fertile and lush tropical vegetation. Being able to the see the place they perform, the houses dedicated to orishas, and the school where the children go was the most personal experience I have had thus far. Two boys sang a song to Yemanja, their voices soft and childlike, chanting. We clapped and they anxiously waited for photos of them to be taken so they could look at themselves in the tiny screens.”

Finally, the highlight of the whole trip. Many of us bought beaded necklaces symbolic of our personal orisha, and of course Megan and I are the Ibeji or twin deities. It is actually ironic that the necklace I would have chosen is the one that represents the twins. One of the women at the Candomble House saw us and before we knew it there were exclamations of joy at our appearance. September, we were told by the tour guide, is the month of the twins in Candomble culture, especially the twenty-seventh of the month. The Candomble priestess began blessing the necklaces that we had bought and it felt so much like something you read about in books or see in movies.

Megan writes, “Before leaving this amazing experience we were able to purchase beaded necklaces and even though we have not had the opportunity to exchange currency, dollars were accepted. The strands of beads come in the colors attributed to the various orishas, green for Yemanja and so on. Ibeji happens to be multiple colors and I would have to assume, my best educated guess, that as Ibeji is not actually an orisha it receives all colors. Ibeji are actually spirits governed by Shango/Xango (multiple spellings here) and as such can either be advantageous or detrimental to a community. A village facing drought, high infant mortality, or some other disaster, would pay respect to Xango. Twins in the community are worshipped and given special priority to help as positive reinforcement. As spirits they can appeal to the orishas to aid the village.”

She sat on a stonewall, low to the ground with her feet in the sand. The priestess mashed green leaves from a nearby plant with water in a stone bowl and in went our necklaces. Then she stood, chanting in Yoruba, and raised the bowl to the right, then center, then left. Placing the slate colored stone bowl back on the sandy earth she pulled the necklaces from their greenish brew and held them up to the sky invoking the name of the Ibeji. Megan went first, bowing to the priestess who put the beads on her own head before placing them on Megan’s head to evoke the ashe, or power. Still chanting she lay the beads delicately around Megan’s neck and lowered her forehead to meet her own.

Megan writes, “One of the women pointed out to the high priestess that we were twins and she performed a special blessing on the necklaces. She performed this for several individuals, but ours was inherently, and uniquely exceptional. Mixing the beads in a bowl with plants and green liquid, and singing in the Yoruba tongue, she raised the chains to the sky and touched them to our forehead.”

Then it was my turn and I could not help but feel some special power in her words as I heard the word Ibeji. It felt so special and intimate in a way I don’t think I could ever truly describe. I think it is times like this that I truly am so grateful to be a twin and have the best sister that anyone could ever wish for. Once she finished the ritual with me she opened up her arms to both of us and lowered our heads. Many of the other students and adults received the blessing as well, but Megan and I were greeted with an additional ceremony. She put her left hand on my shoulder, her right on Megan’s and chanted to the orishas as all three of us stood in a small circle closed to outsiders. When I think about it now, I can’t help but feel as if we were given such a wonderful gift.

Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:

It was approaching dusk and in the light of the waning sun and kiss of darkness, we could see in the shadows many of the members of the community smiling, their eyes beaming. On a side note, the necklaces were of course covered in green plant juice and incidentally made quite a mural on our white Aruba t-shirts. We wore this top because it was the closest apparel we had, with khakis shorts, in following with the Candomble belief. On top of that, it had just come back from the cleaners. Ironically, I really don’t care. And yes, we did get the rest of our laundry back this morning.

Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:

Megan had asked Bob to take some pictures on our camera and he did such a great job getting some shots of the priestess conducting the ceremony. Mom and dad, I can’t wait to show you the pictures, and I have to say that this has been the best experience of the trip thus far. I think it will be hard to beat, but there are still so many ports left.

It is time for bed and tomorrow is another long day to Itaparica Island for the Traditional Ceramics directed practicum with our Anthropology professor. It should be a lot of fun. I haven’t said this in my journal yet, but I love you all and miss you.

One last thing, mom, we have a very special necklace for you. We could never forget you and had the priestess bless a necklace for our best friend.

Megan writes, “Today has been amazing and monumental. I have thought about Nana, wearing my urn under my t-shirt, and I have thought about home. The nights are cool and comfortable and I am ready for sleep.”